Fade To Gray (Triad Series Book 1) Page 18

  "Which is why we let Ryder handle our computer forensics." Gideon smiled at his friend. Declan was definitely not a sit on the sidelines kind of guy. He much preferred to be in the center of the action—whatever the hell that might be.

  "Speaking of which, where is he? I’d have thought he’d want to be a part of this?" Declan glanced over his shoulder at the office door.

  Gideon smothered a niggle of worry. "I left him in my office with Emily. He said he needed to run something by her." And, despite the fact that he trusted Ryder, he still wasn’t happy with the idea. "I’m sure he’ll be along shortly."

  Declan nodded and turned back to the screen. Harrison had enlarged the shot so that only the section containing the shadowy arm was visible. The grainy surface was even more unrecognizable at this magnification, but already Gideon could see the image beginning to clear as the machine ran its program, filling in the missing pixels.

  "Definitely looking more like an arm," Declan said to no one in particular.

  Gideon could see the beginning of a palm and the contours of a wrist. The computer whirred and the pictured became sharper. "Definitely a man’s arm, I’d say."

  "Yeah," Harrison agreed. "And it looks like he’s reaching out to hold the door. Which means that he was helping Irwin."

  "Although it doesn’t prove he wasn’t just a bystander who happened to be there when Irwin was taking Emily upstairs," Declan said, his eyes on the image.

  "Except that it was the service elevator. Which means a normal guest wouldn’t be back there."

  "Maybe an employee?" Harrison suggested as the image grew stronger still, the distinct lines of the tattoo coming into focus now.

  "Possibly," Gideon admitted. "But according to my sources the police interviewed everyone on duty and nothing suspicious came to light."

  "Could be our man’s just a good liar. But even so, this ought to go a long way toward cutting through the bullshit." The computer had stopped, the image now crystal clear. The tat was of a dragon, its spiny tail curling up toward the man’s elbow, wings spread, a spray of fire washing down close to the palm.

  "Too bad it isn’t in color," Declan said.

  "I’ve got another program that can simulate that."

  "Of course you do," Declan responded, with a twist of a smile.

  "Doesn’t matter. I don’t think we need it. I’m thinking this is clear enough to identify even without knowing the colors. Declan, you can take a printed copy and run it by the folks at the hotel."

  Harrison hit a button and behind him the printer started.

  "Of course we can’t tip our hand as to how we got the information or even why we want it. But then again you’re an expert at flying under the radar."

  "Hey, we’ve all got our hidden talents." Declan grabbed the paper off the printer and headed for the door. "Might as well get on this sooner rather than later."

  Gideon watched him go then turned back to Harrison, who was still staring at the picture, zooming it in and out slowly. "What are you seeing?"

  "I’m not sure," Harrison said. "Look here, just behind the hand. In the reflection of the metal door frame."

  Gideon moved closer, narrowing his eyes to improve his focus. Something captured the light and seemed to glitter. "What the hell is it?"

  "I don’t know. But it’s not coming from the guy with the tat. Or from Emily or Irwin. The angle is wrong." He adjusted the image again, this time moving up to focus on the shimmery reflection. He started the program running again as he enlarged the frame. Slowly the image cleared a little, although it was still blurring—a function no doubt of the metal door frame and the reflection.

  "Looks like something. And maybe an arm or part of a hand? But it’s hard to tell." Harrison pointed just below the shimmer.

  "You think there was someone else there?"

  "Honestly, I don’t know. I can run the software again. Try to make it clearer. But I need to do it on my equipment. Nothing against Ryder’s set-up, but mine is better." Harrison looked up with an apologetic shrug.

  "Doesn’t matter to me whose equipment you use. I just want answers."

  "Well, if you’ll let me take the footage with me, I’ll see what I can do. But unfortunately it’ll take a little time. And I’ll go ahead and add color to the security footage. It can’t hurt."

  "Just work as quickly as you can." Something about this whole thing felt off, and Gideon couldn’t help but think that every second they delayed increased the threat to Emily.

  "Understood." Harrison closed the image and pulled the flash drive with the security footage from Ryder’s computer.

  "Hey, did I just hear you disparaging my computer system?" Ryder asked as he walked into his office.

  "Not really," Harrison said with another grin. "Just clarifying that mine’s better."

  "Only because you have direct access to John Brighton’s best stuff," Ryder groused. Jonathan Brighton was the head of a tech company called Phoenix. His programs, designed specifically for law enforcement at all levels, were the best of the best. Harrison had started his career working for Brighton.

  "Nothing wrong with capitalizing on old friendships," Harrison said, his meaning cutting two ways.

  "Point taken." It was Ryder’s turn to grin as he crossed the room to stand beside them.

  Gideon frowned, the skin on his neck prickling when he realized that Ryder was alone. "Where’s Emily?"

  His friend’s smile died as he shifted on his feet, a sure sign that he was uncomfortable. "She left."

  "Alone?" He tried but couldn’t keep a spark of anger from his voice. "I told her to wait for me."

  "I think she needed some time on her own." Ryder lifted his gaze to meet Gideon’s, his eyes full of apology. "I had someone follow her."

  "I didn’t think she was that upset," Gideon said, more to himself than to Ryder. Harrison pretended to be engrossed in the computer screen.

  "Look, Gideon, I know you’re going to be really pissed. But you have to know that I only want what’s best for you. I did what I thought was right..." He trailed off, looking guilty as hell.

  Gideon felt a cold wash of sweat. "Ryder, what the fuck did you do?"

  His so-called friend lifted his hands in supplication. "I gave Emily the papers that proved her father set you up."

  *****

  "SO DO YOU THINK they’re legit?" Emily asked, stopping her pacing to turn and look at Jules.

  It had been several hours since Ryder had given her the envelope. She’d taken an Uber from the Triad offices back to Sutton Place, and then holed up in a coffee shop to study the papers Ryder had given her. And then, anger threatening to overwhelm her, she’d stormed up to her father’s apartment to confront him, but of course he hadn’t been there. Finally, unable to sit still, she’d packed her things and grabbed Bailey, thinking to head back to the relative safety of her brownstone, but being alone wasn’t going to help her deal with any of this, and so she’d wound up at Jules’ apartment instead. Misery needing company and all that.

  "Sit down." Jules’ smile took the sting from her words. "It’s hard to concentrate with you moving around like that."

  "I know, I’m sorry." She dropped down into an overstuffed armchair, fighting for a breath. "It’s just that everything is suddenly so screwed up." She ran a hand through her hair and grimaced. "I mean, everything was already messed up—what with Tom’s death and then Jack’s. And the possibility that somehow I’m at the center of it all. But honestly, this feels even more insidious. I mean, we’re talking about my dad. What kind of father manipulates his daughter like that?"

  "Yours." Jules’ tone was matter of fact, but her eyes were full of pity. "Sorry, that was hitting below the belt. But you know that your father plays for keeps."

  Emily’s throat tightened, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "Yeah, I do. I just didn’t know that he’d been playing me. I thought he was on my side."

  "He is—in his own twisted way. The truth is he never believed Gideon S
loan was good enough for you. And so I can’t say that it surprises me that he decided to do something about it."

  "But to frame Gideon, and then to make me believe it was true?"

  "Would you have walked away from Gideon if nothing had happened?"

  "No, but…"

  "That’s the thing with your father. He doesn’t care who gets hurt. He only cares about the end result. Which makes something like this—" She waved at the papers, her laugh sounding surprisingly bitter, "—standard operating procedure for Blake. Take a failing enterprise and twist it into a win anyway."

  "So you believe these are the real thing. The record of what truly happened." A part of her wanted them to be true. To exonerate Gideon. But another part, the part that loved her father, didn’t want to believe that he could have betrayed her so completely.

  "It’s hard to say definitively at this point," Jules said with a shrug, "but from what I’ve seen so far, these documents certainly can’t be discounted. I mean, there’s corroborating evidence here from different sources that all seem to point to your father’s guilt in not only buying terrorist crude oil, but setting Gideon up to take the fall." She looked up with a frown. "And there is separate evidence that supports the supposition that Gideon couldn’t possibly have done what he was accused of doing. That alone would have gotten the charges dropped."

  "But my father’s paperwork looked official as well."

  "I wouldn’t put it past Blake to doctor evidence or even create it. You know how ruthless he can be. Especially if he believes his lies were protecting you." There was a sharpness in Jules’ retort that cut at Emily. Jules hadn’t known her own dad, and because of that she judged all fathers rather harshly. Not that Emily was excusing her own. If he’d done what Ryder seemed to believe he had…

  "Honestly, right now, on top of everything else that’s happening, this just feels like more than I can handle."

  "I know." The pity was back, reflected in Jules’ eyes. Emily’s stomach threatened revolt and Bailey whined in response. "But you’ve never been one to turn tail and run."

  "No. I just believe whatever lies somebody tries to feed me. Tom Irwin. My father. Even Gideon."

  "I’ve always said that men are pigs."

  Jules’ disgust with men was an ongoing disagreement, but for once Emily didn’t feel inclined to argue. Pushing to her feet, she walked across to the drinks table while Jules went back to reading. With a sigh, she poured herself a generous glass of bourbon. Which of course immediately made her think of Gideon and a long-ago weekend in Long Island. But then it seemed everything these days reminded her of Gideon. She’d have thought ten years would have erased her memories, but then again, she’d kept his picture on her phone, front and center, to remind herself of what? How he’d betrayed her? Wouldn’t it be ironic as hell if it turned out that she’d been the one to betray him?

  She drained the glass and filled it up again, then crossed back to sit in the chair.

  Jules set the papers down again, reaching for her own drink. "If I remember correctly, Gideon was released with very little fanfare. I mean, one day conviction looked like a sure shot and the next the whole case had been dismissed. This kind of evidence would certainly explain that."

  "I honestly believed my dad dropped the case," Emily said, her first instinct still to protect her father.

  "Seriously?" Jules tilted her head, the diamonds in her bracelet catching the light as she sipped from her glass. "Does that line up with anything you know about your father?"

  Emily released a breath. "No. But it’s what he told me and I believed he was telling me the truth."

  "Suddenly, out of the goodness of his heart, he just offered to let Gideon go?"

  Emily flinched, the memory not sitting well. "No. I asked him to do it. Begged him actually. He agreed but with a condition."

  "Why doesn’t that surprise me?" Jules raised an eyebrow. "So what did he want?"

  "I had to promise never to see Gideon again. But under the circumstances, it wasn’t that difficult to agree. I mean, no matter how hurt I was—how angry—I couldn’t stand the idea of Gideon rotting away in jail. And it wasn’t as if we were together anymore anyway. Honestly, I thought Daddy was being kind."

  "Your father has never been kind, Emily. Not one single day in his life. Every move he makes is calculated to the highest degree."

  "You make it sound so sordid."

  "Isn’t it?" She quirked a brow, her expression mirroring the disgust Emily felt deep inside.

  "I just don’t understand why Gideon wouldn’t have wanted to tell me he was innocent. No matter what he felt about me at that point, surely he’d have wanted to clear his name?"

  "Not if he believed you were part of it somehow. Who’s to say that Blake didn’t play Gideon the same way he played you? Still, if he really loved you, he should have at least given you a chance to explain."

  "The way I did him?" Emily fought to control a bitter laugh. "God, this is such a mess. I don’t know who to trust. I mean, if those papers are right, my father is a monster. But if they’re not…then what kind of game is Ryder playing? Is it some weird kind of payback?"

  "I wish I had definitive answers. All I can do is give my opinion and it seems like these are legit." She laid the papers on the coffee table.

  "Which means that everything I thought was true is quite possibly a lie. Not that it changes anything for us. I mean, either way, no matter who was truly at fault—Gideon or, through my father, me—the real truth is that at the first sign of trouble we both ran for the hills. What does that say for our grand passion?"

  "That it was no better or worse than anyone else’s. The reality is most relationships can’t stand that kind of stress. In all truth, they can’t stand any stress. I should know that more than anyone."

  "You said the other night that you were seeing someone. That maybe this time—"

  "Wishful thinking." Jules shrugged with a wave of her hand. "Turns out he wasn’t any different from the rest."

  Jules had had her fair share of failed relationships. Mostly men who hadn’t been worthy of her in the first place. Guys who weren’t ready for Jules’ strength and intelligence.

  Not that Emily had fared any better.

  "So what do I do now?" Emily swallowed the last of her drink and set it on the table.

  "I wish I knew what to tell you. Both of them lied to you. One of them admittedly by omission, but I’m not sure that isn’t worse. And to make it even more stressful, you’re sitting on a powder keg of lies right here in the present. So not only is your past with Gideon and your relationship with your father blown to hell, there’s also the fact that both of them are up to their necks in this business with Tom Irwin."

  "But they’re only trying to protect me. I mean, the man drugged me and took me to his hotel room."

  "Where he was murdered and you covered up your involvement."

  Emily frowned at her friend, a shiver working its way down her spine.

  "Look," Jules said, "I know that none of this was your fault. But in today’s nanobyte world, it’s easy for the truth to get lost. And face it, Emily, there’s nothing our society likes better than to see a princess brought to her knees."

  "I’m not a princess," Emily argued, lifting her hands in protest.

  "Maybe not in your mind, but as far as the rest of the world is concerned you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. And—given today’s political climate—most of them would like nothing better than to see you take a fall."

  "You almost sound like you’re on their side."

  "Oh, God, no. Of course I don’t feel that way. But I’ve been on the outside looking in my whole life. And what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t call it the way I see it? I wish I could wave a magic wand and make everything turn out sunshine and roses. But you know as well as I do that’s not the way the game is played. And as much as I hate to say it, whatever game Gideon and your father are playing—I’m not convinced that either of them has
your best interest at heart."

  CHAPTER 19

  A COLD WIND BLEW fallen leaves across the street into a tiny whirlwind, the movement echoing Gideon’s scattered thoughts. He’d been sitting on the stoop of Emily’s brownstone long enough that the blue-haired lady next door—a Mrs. McNamara—had come out to see what he was up to—twice. The first time she’d pretended to sweep, eyeing him when she’d thought he wasn’t watching. The second she’d actually asked him what he thought he was doing.

  If everything weren’t so damned fucked up, he’d probably have laughed. Instead he’d told the woman he was waiting for Em. That she was expecting him. Which was about as far from the truth as possible. He’d tried calling, and emailing, and texting. All with no response. If she’d gone straight to her father there was every possibility that the son of a bitch would twist everything around again. Somehow find a way to make all of this his fault.

  But then, maybe it was. If he hadn’t been so damn proud he’d have told her the truth all those years ago, made her see that it was her father…and destroyed her life in the process. God, it had been an untenable choice then and it still was now. A part of him wanted to kill Ryder. In fact, if Harrison hadn’t stopped him, he probably would have taken a swing at him. Not that it would have changed anything. The real truth was that another part of him was grateful that the truth was out.

  There was no telling how Em would react. She might hate him. Hell, she might continue to believe her father. But at least this way, she had both sides of the story. She could make a choice.

  The idea that she might be confronting her father on her own scared the shit out of him. He’d driven by there, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to go in. He blew out a breath and shifted, pulling his jacket closer around him. The sun had set, the shadows flickering as the streetlamps came on. The traffic was minimal. He’d even managed to find a parking place out front. Which for Manhattan was grounds for celebration.

  Except that he had nothing to be happy about. The investigation into Irwin’s death seemed to have ground to a screeching halt. In his gut he knew that there was more than Blake Masterson was admitting. But he still found it hard to believe that the man would do anything to put his daughter at risk. Which left them a big fat nowhere.