Ryder shuts the front door then turns back to me. “Well, you must get it from somewhere.” I pick up the decorative pillow beside me and throw it at him, and of course, he catches it easily. “And she must have a violent side, too.” He smirks.
“Well-deserved violence.” I smile back, grabbing another pillow and making myself comfortable again.
He chuckles before his expression and voice become serious. “Is your mother handling this news all right?”
“Of course she is,” I reply. “You’re like a mom’s dream come true.”
“Yeah, right.” Alex barks a loud laugh, taking a seat in the chair next to me and placing her laptop on her knees.
“The laughing really isn’t necessary,” Ryder says with a glare, and then glances at me with a smile and winks again.
As he heads off to the kitchen, I glance back at Alex. This visit is a surprise and sets off all my alarms. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, Alex, but I can only assume you have something for me.”
Her eyes stay fixated on the screen and her fingers fly across the keyboard. “You’re right, I do.”
I pause, hearing some clanging going on in the kitchen, and wait for Alex to continue. She doesn’t, but then I spot Ryder returning from the kitchen with a coffee cup in his hand. “So…does anyone want to let me in on the secret?” I inquire.
Ryder drops down next to me. “She’s got some news for us.” He takes a sip from his mug.
“Good or bad?” I ask, not sure I even should.
“Well…” Alex drawls, finally looking away from her monitor to me. “I’m not sure any news involving your current situation could be classified as good or bad. It’s more like, not terrible news”—she pauses and shrugs—“and then some terrible news.”
I glance sideways at Ryder. “Is she always so brutally honest?”
“Yes.” He smiles, revealing his dimple. “But you’ll come to appreciate that about her, believe me.”
I find that hard to believe, I want to say. Instead I give a tight smile.
Though as I settle against the couch, getting a little more comfortable next to Ryder, I realize that surrounded by all this corruption and blackmailing, a little honesty does go a long away. “All right,” I say, ready for the truth bombs awaiting me. “Lay it all on me.”
“Okay, so first,” Alex says to Ryder, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, “you were right. We’re dealing with Congressman Westhaven.”
Ryder drapes an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers sliding across my nape. “How sure are you?”
I shiver at his delicate touch and force myself to focus, as Alex replies, “Very sure.” She spins her laptop around, showing us a picture of the congressman from the side. “Do you see this mole right here by his ear?”
As Ryder leans forward, so do I and ask, “What mole?”
She clicks a few buttons until the photo is enlarged and points at the screen, just below the congressman’s ear. “See it now?”
I squint my eyes. “Oh, yeah, now I do.”
After another click of a button, a screenshot from the video pops up on her monitor. “The guy on the left has the same mole.”
I examine both the photo and the screenshot, finding that she’s right. Okay, I’m beginning to see why Ryder depends so much on her. I guess that makes me feel a lot more confident that we can actually stop the video from getting out there. “How did you even see that?” I ask her.
“It’s what I do.” She shrugs, as if this is everyday business for her, and spins her laptop back around and begins working again.
My cheeks flush a little, because I don’t recognize the congressman and he’s been physical with me…more than once. Truth be told, I kept thinking once I saw him I would recognize him, but the man is a total stranger to me. Hell, even if he wore the mask, I’m not sure I’d recognize him, because I never really focused on them that night. I focused on what I needed.
Ryder taps his fingers against my neck, returning me to the present. I glance at him, and obviously he’s reading my mind, as he gives me a soft, reassuring smile before he focuses on Alex. “Have you got anything on the other guy?”
“Nothing as of yet,” Alex explains, typing away on her laptop. “Except for that half-moon scar on his hand, he doesn’t really have any distinguishing features.”
“And you’ve got nothing on the scar?” he presses.
She shakes her head. “I’ve scoured thousands of photos of people in politics, but I haven’t got a hit yet. It’s hard because in most photographs you don’t see hands in great detail.”