Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(91)

“Do you want me to continue, or do you want to argue semantics?” I defer, hoping he’ll let that tiny detail go.

“Where did you get it from?” Noah asks, and I breathe a cautious sigh of relief.

“A generic email account sent from an IP address located at a New York public library. I can get my PI to turn over to you the details of it, as I’m sure your reach is much farther than ours was.”

Noah and Abel exchange a glance and look back down at the log. “I don’t understand—”

I cut Noah’s words off when I slide across the table a different version of the same call log. This time it’s covered with my notes.

I find immense pleasure in watching their eyes widen as it dawns on them just what this is . . . and intense satisfaction knowing I’ll be the one who put Carter Preston in his rightful place: behind bars.

“So this is—how did—I don’t have . . .”

I step around the side of the table. “I researched when the vote was. I noticed all these calls going back and forth took place in the weeks leading up to it followed by a flurry the day of.”

“Okay . . . ,” Noah says.

“That number right there is the CEO of Alpha Pharm.” I point to one and then to the second. “His private encrypted cell phone, actually. He might have used the services of a rival escort service before. I made a couple of calls, had to make a few promises, but this here is his number. There’s proof in that stack over there”—I point to a pile of papers—“that ties this cell phone number to his credit card.”

“That’s fine and all, but none of these are Carter Preston’s number,” Abel says, pointing to the other cell numbers on the sheet.

“Yes, actually, they are. At least they’re the one he uses from his burner phones to call and schedule dates with a certain escort service.” I meet both of their eyes. “I can trace these numbers to calls placed on my cell phones. Ones you probably recorded him using since you were tracking our calls. And if that’s not good enough, I have a few voice mails with his voice on two of those numbers.”

“Son of a bitch,” Noah mutters.

“A goddamn burner,” Abel says.

“It’s smart. He’s a senator who doesn’t want escorts or . . . I guess bribes able to be connected to his name.”

Noah runs his finger under every call as if he’s remembering some invisible timeline to compare them against.

“Where did you get this?” Abel demands. “How did someone know to email it to you?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. That’s the only question I can’t answer. Maybe because my PI was asking questions about him? I don’t know.”

“Almost too convenient,” Noah says to Abel with a snort.

“That’s what I thought . . . but it is Washington, and I’m sure Carter has burned a lot of bridges. Another woman scorned, perhaps? The ex-wife of Alpha Pharm’s CEO? Maybe it’s her way of getting back at her husband? Or maybe even someone who works at the cell phone company whose family member will be affected by the veto of this bill? I don’t have answers for you. I just know I’ve had this, and it took me some time to connect the dots.”

“This is enough to nail him right now. There are still a lot of questions that need to be answered, but we finally have something connecting the two men. We pull up a warrant, we—”

Noah holds his hand up to stop Abel and slides a look my way as if to say, Not in front of the non–special agent people. “We need to get our ducks in a row first. He’s slipped through our fingers before,” he says, his words surprising me. “I don’t want to let it happen again.”

“It seems to me you won’t need me to confront him,” I say, more than relieved at the thought.

Noah looks at Abel and heads toward the front door, his cell already in his hand. “I’ll find a judge who’ll sign this warrant and—” The front door shuts behind him, and I am left to look at Abel with raised eyebrows.

“We’ll leave the confrontation on the table. We need to see what happens first. Judges are fickle creatures sometimes.”

So are agents, it seems.

I nod, all the while biting my tongue to keep from pointing out that Ryker’s phone numbers can’t be found anywhere on that month-long call log. It’s nowhere.

But I don’t.

And just as if fate is giving me a different way to prove his innocence and eradicate all doubt I should feel guilty for even thinking, I point to the stack of papers. “Let me see those again.”

The smirk on Abel’s face says so much more than any words can. He’s a hunter, and his prey is so close within reach he can smell him.

But I’m about to remove one less person for him to go after.

I thumb through the papers again. I look past the sticker shock of the cover sheets that show the return address, my name, the balance due . . . and look at the pages after. The payments applied. The interest charged.

“There,” I all but shout when I see the date of the balance payoff.

“What?” He fights the smile on his lips, his tone feigning innocence.

“You knew all along, didn’t you? You knew these balances were settled before you guys even approached me. That Ryker didn’t pay me off to keep me quiet.” I sit down in the chair. “Son of a bitch!”