Welcome, cool air hit him square in the face as he stepped inside the dark building. He disabled the security system before he took a step forward, and then, not bothering to turn on the lights, he headed down the hallway toward his office.
Waiting had been aggravating, but he couldn’t listen to the playback of Faith’s conversation until he was damn sure no one was around, and he wouldn’t risk discovery. He walked to his desk and inserted the key into the lock he’d changed so only he’d have access.
He sat down and pulled out the small digital recording device. He skipped through several routine phone calls before he finally came to the one he wanted. As Faith’s mother’s voice aired through the recording, he leaned forward, intent on deciphering every sound, every word.
When he got to the part where Faith asked her mother, “Who was that?” he stopped and backtracked to listen again. On the third attempt he could make out the male voice in the background and the threat he’d issued. Samuels. It had to be.
He listened on and flinched at the raw emotion in Faith’s voice, her low sobs as they filtered into the quiet night air around him. He now knew without a doubt that there was no way Faith was a willing participant in any plan Celia Martin and Samuels had hatched.
It was telling how relieved he was, but it also made him uneasy that he was deceiving an innocent woman. She was being used by her mother, and she was being used by him.
Fuck.
He stuffed the recorder into his desk and locked it. Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished wooden surface. He ran both hands through his hair and closed his eyes in frustration.
Was her mother on her way here? Would she exploit the fact that Pop had paid her off in the past? And would she even bother involving Faith, or would she use Pop’s desire to protect Faith against him?
Hell of a mess. So many lives involved. And justice was at the heart of the whole cluster fuck. Alex was dead. His killer had to pay.
The end justified the means. If Alex’s killer was put away, all of this would be worth it. Even Faith’s anger.
If he was truly convinced of this, why then did guilt weigh so heavy on him? Why did he picture Faith’s sweet smile, remember the feel of her skin against his, her lips on his? And why did he want more?
It was stupid and foolhardy to initiate any sort of romantic entanglement with her. He snorted. Romantic? Who said anything about romantic? Last he checked, wanting to fuck a woman’s brains out wasn’t construed as romance.
He had a lot of thinking to do. He needed to call Mick so together they could come up with the best plan of action. Gray still wasn’t convinced that he and Mick were handling this just right, but with Billings brushing them off and not devoting the resources necessary to bring Alex’s killer to justice, Gray didn’t see that they had a lot of choice in the matter.
He shoved back from his desk, stood, then headed for the door. As he passed Faith’s office, he halted and backtracked. He may as well make sure the tap was still securely in place in case the mother called again.
Moving swiftly, he walked around her desk in the darkness and turned on the small desk light so he could see. He examined her phone and made sure everything was to his satisfaction. Then he made sure everything on her desk was as he’d found it. His gaze flickered across her open day planner as he reached for the button on the light.
His hand stilled, and he pulled it away as he read the entry circled in red. The House. 11:00 P.M. Friday night. It was written on today’s date, and below was an address in north Houston.
The name was familiar to him, and he searched his memory for why. He could swear it was the name of the kink club Micah had gone on about one day over lunch. But why on earth would Faith be making plans to visit if they were one and the same?
He opened her drawer and yanked out a pen and a piece of paper from a notepad. He scribbled the address down then closed the drawer again. After turning the light off, he hurried back to his own office where he turned his computer on.
He drummed his fingers impatiently as he waited for it to boot. As soon as the screen lit up with his desktop icons, he clicked on the browser and went to a search engine page.
There, he typed in the name and address he’d lifted from Faith’s planner and waited for the results. When he clicked on the first link, he bit out a curse. Faith’s house and Micah’s were one and the same. Somehow Gray knew that Faith wasn’t a regular member, because surely that wouldn’t have escaped Micah’s notice.
What the fuck was she doing making an appointment at a freaking kink club? Did she not have a clue what went on there? Hell, he’d never set foot in the place, but the things Micah had talked about were more than enough to paint a vivid picture in Gray’s mind of what happened behind those big wrought-iron gates.