“Are you aware that Landon White is missing? He didn't come home from work last night and Rebecca's becoming concerned.”
I let my lips twitch into a smug smile that I don't feel. Landon is goddamn dead, and I'll never know why he went to the cops in the first place, why he turned his back on his brothers.
“Landon's thirty-two years old and two hundred and sixty pounds of muscle, Mr. Gregson.”
“It's Gilman,” Brent corrects, but I already know that.
“Look, he was at work yesterday, and I'm sure he'll be there again today. What else do you want me to tell you?”
Brent opens his mouth to say something and then thinks better of it. Yes, technically Landon's been missing for almost two weeks, but the Wolves found him last week and took care of things. Of course, according to his time card and his wife, he's been seen every day up until today. Brent though, he seems to know something more, like maybe how Landon's been unreachable for quite some time.
“Look, do you have a card or something? I'll give you a call if I think there's a reason to get the feds involved in a grown man's personal business.” Brent wrinkles up his eyebrows, like he knows I'm insulting him but isn't quite sure how to respond.
I snap my fingers and hold out my palm, waiting for him to drop a business card in my waiting hand.
I'm going to need that card to keep an eye on this man. I knew Landon was snitching on the club, but I didn't know who exactly it was that he was talking to.
Now I do.
Lucky me.
“Brent!” I say, standing up from my desk with a radiant smile and a tick of nervous energy in my belly. I feel like I'm straddling two worlds, the one I've always known and one I never wanted to know. That's ridiculous. You had a one-night stand with an MC president. Big deal. Every girl has an experimental phase. Maybe you're just going through yours a little late? I make a vow to get this job done and get the hell out of there before Royal McBride tries to drag me in any further. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I'd stop by and see if you were free for lunch?” Brent asks, smiling widely at me. He weaves between the other desks in the room and pauses next to mine as we exchange a friendly hug and step back, looking each other over. “You said the new office was nice, but you didn't say how packed it was in here,” he remarks, looking around at the overflowing desks, the people chugging away at computers, chatting on phones, rushing from here to there.
“It's an upgrade from that place on Trinity Street to be sure,” I say, reaching up and tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. A stray strand? I lift my hands to my bun and find that it's come … undone.
Uh oh.
Feels like an omen to me.
I clear my throat and gather my hair back up, putting my favorite black clip back in place.
“But the city's growing faster than we ever could've imagined, and we've had to hire on a whole new staff.” I glance around the room, at the intricate moldings on the wall, the ornately carved pieces of wood that are original to the house. Once upon a time, this place was a flawless Victorian, gazing out at the sea with pride and grandeur. Now, it's a busy office with the shutters pulled and an ugly blue carpet spread out over the original hardwood floors. “It can get kind of crazy in here.” Brent keeps smiling at me, but his gaze is traveling over me again, taking me in from head to toe like Royal did that first day at the compound. Somehow though, I … liked it when Royal looked at me like this. Brent … it doesn't feel right. “Let me grab my purse and we'll do lunch.”
I brush the feeling away and clamp down on the strange guilty feeling in my gut.
I've started this plan in motion, so I'm going to see it through. What other choice do I have? If I quit now, my dad will probably fire me.
And if I tell Royal?
He'd probably kill me.
After my lunch date with Brent, I make up an excuse and flee the office as fast as my heels can carry me.
“I haven't seen him in almost a week. Of course, interviewing those freaks didn't help. They all claim to have seen him yesterday, but that's bullshit. I know it is. They probably figured out he was talking to me.”
I swallow hard and unlock the doors to my car, climbing in and heading straight home. I need a warm bubble bath and a bowl of pasta. That's it. I just need a break, a moment to think things through and get my head together. I can't do that in the office with my dad breathing down my neck and my sister casting me suspicious glances every couple of minutes. She hasn't outright asked if I slept with Royal, but she will, eventually.
I can't deal with that right now.
“I don't know why I'm even bothering. They probably killed him and dumped his body in the ocean.” Brent clenches his fork in his hand, knuckles white with the strain. “Who am I kidding? I'll never see that man again—dead or alive.”