‘Is he all right?’ Lisette asked, then winced when Scarlett hesitated to answer. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss, Detective. I didn’t know.’
‘No,’ Scarlett said quickly, understanding the woman’s confusion. ‘He lived. The surgeons here are very good. He just . . . Phin’s a vet, and it happened after he came home. We were relieved that he was finally safe, and then he got shot in a bar fight.’ She shrugged a shoulder. ‘We haven’t seen him for a long time, so I’m not sure how to answer your question. I hope he’s okay. But we’ve drifted off topic.’
It had not been unintentional. Nothing she’d shared was a secret. Hell, the Ledger had probably carried the story of Phin’s debacle, which had started with an argument over a woman. Naturally. Phin had always had a temper, even before the war. The Ledger probably had several articles on him. She’d shared Phin’s past with Lisette in hopes of creating a bond with the woman who had the most to lose – her brother was not safe until his attacker was behind bars.
Neither was Marcus. So Lisette Cauldwell isn’t the only one with a lot to lose. Scarlett couldn’t let herself think about what might have happened had Marcus arrived at his apartment first. He’d be the one in surgery right now.
She took the empty seat between Marcus and Diesel, the giant who’d been first to share the blame. The man’s shoulders took up his space and half of hers, but she didn’t budge, forcing him to scoot his chair over a few inches. This caused a ripple effect as everyone moved their chairs, because Stone was on Diesel’s right and his shoulders were nearly as wide. She waited until all the chairs had stopped moving and everyone settled.
‘I assume this involves the Ledger in some way,’ she began. From her jacket pocket she pulled the list Marcus had printed up earlier that day. It seemed like a year ago. ‘These are the threats I know about.’ She looked up at Marcus. ‘I also assume this is a . . . truncated list. If you’d sent me the real one, I would have had it minutes after you sent the video files. Yes?’
He nodded, his face flushed with color, making him look like a naughty boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘I thought it would be for the best. I guess I thought wrong.’
‘You didn’t know,’ she murmured. ‘I thought Tala was the target too, so let’s get past that and figure out who shot your friend.’ She put the list on the table, then looked at each person for a few seconds, meeting their eyes before moving to the next. ‘What are you doing that makes people want to kill you?’
‘We want immunity,’ Stone said quietly. ‘Especially for Gayle.’
‘She only types memos,’ Scarlett said dryly. ‘And in case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t Mirandized any of you. Should I be doing so?’
‘No.’ Marcus drew a breath. ‘We target abusers and get them out of their homes. However we have to.’
She blinked slowly, digesting this. She hadn’t known exactly what to expect, but hearing this was no shock. She’d told Marcus that he was built to protect, and she’d meant it. She’d figured it had something to do with helping people in distress because he’d reached out to Tala so readily and so naturally. Like it was something he did all the time. That they’d gone to such trouble to cover their tracks was a little more worrying. ‘Do you break the law?’
Diesel’s massive shoulders shrugged nonchalantly. ‘A little hacking. And sometimes we might . . . suggest they should leave town.’
Scarlett’s lips twitched. ‘If I opened my door and saw you standing there, Mr Kennedy, you wouldn’t have to suggest anything. I’d start running before you opened your mouth.’
Diesel grinned happily. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. How do you choose these abusers?’ More furtive glances around the table made her huff in annoyance. ‘For God’s sake, people, spit it out. I don’t have all night. And neither does your friend in there. I can’t justify a uniformed guard forever, you know.’
‘We get referrals, mostly,’ Marcus said. ‘Some come from people who aren’t authorized to share the information. To give their names could jeopardize their jobs, which would mean a lot of needy people wouldn’t be helped.’
‘So, Social Services,’ she said. ‘I can understand that. Must be frustrating to see bad people get away with hurting women and kids.’
‘You see that every day,’ Cal said softly. It was the first time he’d spoken since they’d entered the room.
‘Yes,’ Scarlett said. ‘Every goddamn day. There have been many times I’ve been tempted to suggest someone leave town.’
‘Have you ever done it?’ Stone asked, a gleam in his eye.
Ever the reporter, she thought, raising her eyebrows at him. ‘Tempted, Stone. That’s all I said. For the record.’ She eyed the rest of the group. ‘So you get referrals. I assume these are referrals about abusers who are too slick to get caught by Children’s Services or who have frightened their victims into silence. What do you next? Dig until you find proof of their abuse?’
‘Something like that,’ Marcus said. ‘But sometimes there is no proof of abuse so we have to find something else.’
‘Find or fabricate?’ she asked him pointedly.
‘Mostly find. At times we get a little creative. But it’s never a total fabrication.’
Cal cleared his throat. ‘I’d call it more entrapment. With cameras set up in advance.’
‘Of course.’ Scarlett turned to Diesel. ‘You’re the hacker?’
Pride flickered in his eyes. ‘I am. I don’t steal. Just . . . rummage.’
Again her lips twitched. It was hard not to like this man. ‘Rummage for what?’
‘Wrongdoing in general. Sometimes it’s obvious.’ His lips thinned. ‘Like kiddie porn. Sometimes a little less so, like tax evasion or stock fraud.’
Scarlett blinked in surprise. ‘Tax evasion or stock fraud?’
‘It’s a crime,’ Lisette said. ‘Not as bad, but if it’s big enough, it’ll land them in federal prison. It gets them away from their families.’
‘And,’ Cal added, ‘even if it’s not big enough for the Feds, many times they don’t want anyone to know what they’ve done, so they’re more amenable to the suggestion to separate themselves from the household.’
‘Extortion,’ Scarlett murmured.
‘Gentle encouragement,’ Cal countered.
‘It gets them out of the house,’ Scarlett said, trying to keep the approval from her voice but knowing she was only moderately successful. ‘But they inevitably return. Then what?’
‘They come home to find their families have relocated,’ Marcus said. ‘We help them start over if that’s what they want. New IDs, new jobs. We’ve helped some of the women go back to school.’ He smiled fiercely, proudly. ‘One of our cases just graduated with a nursing degree. Another became a pharmacy tech. Another a paralegal. One finished the teaching degree she abandoned when she had too many bruises to show her face on campus. All of these mothers can now support their families on their own. They’re making lives for themselves and are no longer isolated and alone. And their kids are no longer afraid.’
Scarlett drew a breath, her chest suddenly tight with emotion that bubbled up, breaking free from where she’d contained it for so long. She’d known Marcus was different the first time she’d heard his voice. She’d known. No, I’d hoped. Hoped so damn hard.
‘Why do you hide this?’ she whispered, meeting his eyes, letting him see everything she felt deep inside. Wishing they were alone so she could show him.
‘Because we break the rules,’ he whispered back, his stare intensely intimate, despite the fact they were not alone. ‘We hack into people’s computers, we “gently coerce”, and we set people up. We produce fake IDs and print fake birth certificates and passports.’
‘The printing press,’ she murmured, and a glance at Cal told her she’d guessed right. He lifted his palms to show her fingertips stained black with ink, his narrowed eyes and tilted chin proclaiming unmistakable defiance. ‘You’re utilizing all of your resources.’