Sins, Lies & Spies (Black Brothers #2)(50)

“The alarm and his security cameras have been disabled,” Jack said, his eyes still glued to his phone.

Quick, rapid pants of air escaped from Trinity’s mouth.

I slid my hand inside the holster strapped around my waist and pulled out a gun. “Here he comes.”

Lang cracked open the glass door, his gaze sweeping over the three of us, and then landing on my gun. Sighing, he opened it wider. “You don’t need that. I’m not armed.”

I cocked one eyebrow but otherwise ignored his comment. I wasn’t taking any chances. We backed Lang into the corner, and in my experience, people never responded well when they didn’t have options.

I waved my gun at Lang. “Jack, pat him down.”

Lang rolled his eyes and propped his hands behind his head. “At least ask the girl to do it. It’ll be more enjoyable that way. I saw the way she kissed you in my study at the fundraiser last month. Did you bring her along as entertainment?”

My jaw flexed and my hand tightened around the gun, but I ignored the taunt.

Trinity didn’t. She laughed. “I don’t think you’d enjoy my type of entertainment. I hear your tastes are a little younger, much more helpless, and of the male variety.”

Jack chuckled as his hands moved systematically up and down each of Lang’s jean-clad legs. Then he came to his feet, patting the palms of his hands over the front and back of Lang’s light gray cashmere sweater.

Lang’s mouth snapped closed, his eyes narrowing and the vein on the side of his neck throbbing. “That’s all a bunch of bullshit.”

“Save it for someone who wants to listen to your lies. I’m not interested,” I said.

“He’s not armed.” Jack yanked Lang’s hands from the back of his head and clasped them in one hand behind Lang’s back. He grabbed a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and secured them around Lang’s wrists.

Lang spun around. “What the hell is this about?”

“We’re not taking any chances.” I handed Trinity the car keys. “Jones, you’re driving.”

“Where are we going?” Lang asked, the corners of his eyes wrinkling.

“We’re taking a little drive.” Jack ripped his gun from his holster and pressed it to the back of Lang’s head. “Now, walk.”

Lang jerked his head from side to side, his eyes wide with panic. “You’re f*cking crazy. I agreed to talk to you from the comfort of my house. I didn’t agree to be carted around in the back of your car like a f*cking criminal. I’m an elected official. You need to treat me with respect.”

“Are you done with your tantrum?” I drawled, sounding bored.

“No. I changed my mind. I’m not doing this.” He pulled his arms a few inches away from his lower back, and the metal of the handcuffs rattled. “Take these things off.”

I sighed wearily. “Do you want to go over your options again? Because I assure you what’s happening now is preferable to having the details of your secret life splashed all over the Internet by noon tomorrow.” I shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even be behind bars by Friday. People don’t like child predators.”

Lang’s nostrils flared. “Fine,” he spat out bitterly. “Let’s get this over with.”

The four of us circled the side of the brick house, clinging to the shadows as much as possible. When we reached our white van, Trinity climbed into the driver’s seat.

Jack opened the back door, shoved Lang inside, and jumped in behind him.

My hand curled around the open doorframe. “Stick to the plan. Drive to Alexandria and back and don’t go more than three miles over the speed limit.”

With shaking hands, Trinity shoved the keys into the ignition. “Got it.”

“And don’t stop no matter what you hear.”

She smirked and turned up the radio. “Don’t worry about me. Now get back there so we can get this over with and get to bed.”

“Yes, Jones. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re bossy?”

She shoved me playfully in the chest. “Too many times to count.”

By the time I joined Jack and Lang, Jack had removed one of Lang’s handcuffs and secured it around a metal bar on the far wall of the van. On the outside, it looked like a typical van used by a plumber or an HVAC company, but Jack and I had reconfigured the inside for interrogation and surveillance. A gray leather bench stretched along one side of the van, wrapping around the back, and computer equipment spanned the length of the other side. A metal partition separated the rear from the driver’s compartment.

Settling into the open spot next to Jack, I leaned forward and flipped on a switch and pressed a few buttons to start recording our conversation. The administration and the justice department wanted this blackmail scheme to disappear without the public knowing about it. Officially, they claimed they didn’t want to shake the public’s belief in the integrity of Congress and the sanctity of members’ votes during an election year. I didn’t buy it. In my opinion, they wanted to bury this scandal because it crossed party lines. For them, it was a political class problem, not a party problem. Without fail, political insiders will bend over backward to defend the status quo by protecting those at the top and their agendas, which meant this problem had to disappear without a trace.