Legacy (Sociopath Series Book 2)(35)

“Do you see where they’ve sent it?” I roll the screen up to show him. “This…this is bad.” And if Harvey’s already panicking, it’s very bad.

“Forward it. Sir. And if you don’t mind me offering advice, get Carson on the phone before you do anything else.” He leaps up, wiping his hands on his pants. “It’ll take more than this to paint you as a serial killer.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” A lie. It confirms exactly what’s Leo’s been saying, and there’s no avoiding it changes things. And the truth about Rachel…f*ck. Shit. “The thing is, we buried Rachel’s suicide with the GNS twink scandal. This is going to dig it all up big time. Might as well have her corpse parading around on a f*cking carnival float.” I won’t survive that. Lore Corp won’t. If there wasn’t a shred of truth to this, it wouldn’t matter; the beast in me can smell the news potential for miles, and soon, the vultures will circle.

The room blurs and pixelates. Swivels and swirls.

“I’m going straight to forensics. Do nothing without Carson,” Harvey barks, and then hurries out of the room.

Do nothing? Since when do I take orders from anybody? And why they f*ck can’t I move to try Leo again?

My cell bleats to life in my hand, sending shudders of cool shock up my arm. It takes three blinks for me to read the caller’s name: Posner.

Posner? Did anyone not get this crap?

“Yes?” I say raggedly into the receiver. “What?”

“You’ve seen the email,” comes his too-quiet voice.

“What email?”

“You know the one, Aeron.”

“The one about the candy floss and rainbows, or whatever you were f*cking talking about?”

“Actually, I haven’t had the pleasure of this particular cupcake until now,” he bites back. “This is a whole new heap of fairy dust.”

“Did your whole department get this?” I scratch at my bare wrists. They’re numb.

“It was sent to my superior, who sent it to me. She knows about our little fling.” Posner clears his throat; it’s impossible to tell how sarcastic he’s being, and I hate it.

“I take it she doesn’t know that you send me dirty photos.”

“Don’t be a sick f*ck right now. Don’t. That doesn’t help anything. And no, she doesn’t know.” He exhales heavily. “I hope. You have any idea what the hell this email is about?”

“No.” I’m trying not to talk too quickly, but God, it’s hard. The minute my control slips, all my impulses froth to the surface and I end up saying things I shouldn’t. “Isn’t that your area? You were the one who said I should stay away—”

“I meant it. And then this shit gets coughed out of the ether. Is there any truth to this? What have we got on our hands here?”

He might as well have shook his finger at me and bleated, Lucy, you got some ‘splainin’ to do! This is the thing about useful people, grasshoppers; they’re always looking to move up the food chain, and the minute you stop being helpful to them, you turn into a threat. Best hope your damage control skills are up to scratch because in this scenario, normal tactics won’t cover it. Hunt or be hunted. Fuck or be f*cked.

“Rachel was never even my girlfriend. We fooled around a little in high school, that’s all. I had no idea…I mean, it makes me sick.” I pause for breath. Let that be evidence of my disgust, and not my panic. “She was Leo’s girlfriend for a long time. Leo…Leo will be heartbroken.” I’m doing my best here, but chances are, I just played right into his grubby little hands. He’s feeling something out, testing a theory, and I don’t even have the headspace to contemplate it. Bile heats the back of my throat.

“This has gone to all major news outlets, Aeron. Jesus, it’s gone to the White House—not that I can see they’ll do anything, but that’s not the point.”

“Nowhere with any credibility is going to publish this,” I say, though I’m not sure I believe it myself.

“Yeah, but give it an hour, and it’ll be all over those dirty gossip websites people actually read. Then my office gets the pleasure of a zillion phone calls from Cindy and Bob Dumbass about how one time, you looked at their goldfish funny, and they know it isn’t much but they just couldn’t live with themselves if they didn’t share.” He groans. “Our only hope is that it might force the FBI to come out and say they have the bastard’s ID anyways.”

“Wait—what?” I sit straight up. The iPad clatters to the floor beside me. “They have an ID on Blood Honey? You’re serious?”

“I don’t have details, but they’ve got something. There’s even an e-fit from the Perkins motel staff, though they won’t release it to the public—they actually want to catch him. Of course they don’t want him to know what they have.”

“Have you seen the e-fit?”

“No.” A pause. “And don’t you dare go releasing this info, or so help me—”

“I appear to have more pressing concerns.”

“You think?”

“I need to call off,” I manage. “Need to push through the world’s fastest gag order.”