The Revenge (The Insiders Trilogy #3)(85)

“How were they going to get Quinn acquitted?”

“They’d need to blame someone else.”

Someone else.

I had a feeling who that was, and I wasn’t liking it.

“They killed the Arcane team. Every last one of them. Drew Bonham was killed a month ago. That guard, also dead. Only two people remain alive that were at Bailey’s kidnapping: Quinn and”—another beat of hesitation—“Bailey.”

I sucked in some air because fuck him.

Fuuuck him.

I was getting what he was saying. I was seeing it all now.

“They took Chrissy to set Bailey up. It was always planned for Chrissy to come back and reunite with her family, but she was supposed to be brainwashed. I got her out, but I’ll be honest, I don’t know if it was in time. She started saying to me the shit they wanted her to recite to the public, and that was that her daughter had made it all up. Everything. She was never kidnapped by Quinn. She never saw her mother get murdered. Chrissy Hayes is alive, and she was supposed to say instead that the two kidnapping attempts took a toll on her daughter. Bailey was mentally unstable, had hallucinated the whole thing.”

The facts were all swimming in my head, getting muddied around. “But there were too many other factors that still would’ve helped Bailey’s statement.”

“Court of law, it wouldn’t have mattered. If they had a mom who said, instead, that her daughter attacked her, stuffed her in a car, and had her taken away by strangers, and she waltzed into a court to testify to that, that’s all they would’ve needed. Quinn would get off. Her charges would be dropped and there’d be no hold for why she couldn’t still see her kids, and that means, she’d still have an opening to get back in with Peter.”

“But why?”

I was ignoring the bullshit about setting Bailey up and focusing on the endgame.

Chase shook his head. “It’s simple. Money.”

Jesus.

All the pieces. My grandfather had thought of it all.

But there was one more piece missing.

“Who’s the other inside person?” I asked.

Chase gave me a hard look. “The next person who I’m fairly certain is about to be called as a character witness for Quinn, who’s supposed to also collaborate against Bailey’s case, saying she saw Peter’s estranged daughter doing weird shit, maybe even attacking her personally.”

If they had been successful in turning Chrissy, then added a second witness to testify to the same argument, it would work. Quinn would walk free. Bailey would be implicated, at least in public opinion, because those transcripts would get out. Press was there. Quinn’s lawyers would throw a press party.

“Who is it?”

“Quinn’s sister. Payton.”





FIFTY-FIVE

Bailey


“All rise.”

We rose as the judge came in, then sat when we were allowed. I didn’t understand why today was the day Chrissy insisted we come to Quinn’s trial. I’d not been allowed in the other days, and most of it had been kept hush-hush. They talked about it on the local news every day, but that’d been the extent of my knowledge. But today, for some reason, was the day Chrissy was adamant we attend. She put everything in motion, arguing with the lawyers until finally it was allowed. On any other day, yes. I would’ve loved to go. I would’ve been curious about what was being said, what was happening. But today? Peter was arrested the day before, and not for something he did but for something I did.

That was more important.

Chrissy was arguing with our lawyer for us to come here, and right behind her, I was arguing with him about why he wasn’t doing more to get Peter released from custody.

Apparently, the whole thing took time. Those were his words.

But we were here, in court, definitely not sitting behind Quinn’s side.

Since I was here and thinking on all of this, I gave my mother a side-eye, because when had she decided to take up the torch for anything? I mean, post her not-murder/kidnapping? Because she hadn’t been like this since Kash brought her back home. She’d been traumatized and quiet. Now I saw it in the way she was sitting firm and upright. I saw it in how her eyes were fierce and focused. Her mouth was set and determined.

Her chin was tight.

Her focus was entirely on someone else.

I followed her gaze, until it landed on Payton Callas.

That made me pause, too, because why? Why would Chrissy suddenly care about Seraphina and Cyclone’s aunt so much? As far as I knew, there’d been no interaction between them at the house. If Chrissy came into a room, Payton left. Whatever the case, I had a feeling the whole building could burn down around Chrissy and Payton and still my mother’s attention wouldn’t waver from Quinn’s sister.

Weird.

Eerie, too.

The first witness was called.

“The defense calls Payton Callas to the stand, Your Honor.”

“Motherfucker,” Matt hissed next to me. He shot me a look. “We let her go. She met Quinn and we didn’t say a word.”

Matt leaned forward next to me, his elbows on his knees.

Quinn’s team, not the prosecution, had called Payton. What was happening?

She walked up, and I hadn’t noted what she was wearing earlier. I hadn’t cared. But I sure cared now. A trench pencil skirt. The colors were dark orange. Her blouse was the same color, with a black blazer over the top. Her hair was up in a bun, set behind her head. Her makeup was on, but muted. She had the natural look going on. She was demure.