Page 13 of Crossover
“He got himself killed.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?” I asked. “That your hands are clean?”
“I’m not the one who sets the rules; I obey them.”
My handcuff moved to the bridge of my thumb knuckle.
“Why?” Why did Daniel get into bed with criminals? “Money?”
When his face darkened, I could see there was something more.
“You have a family,” I realized. A wife, at least, based on my mom’s shocking discovery. Probably kids, then, too. All of them would be vulnerable if Daniel didn’t comply with Vosch, wouldn’t they?
This opened another series of questions—like how long Daniel had been in bed with Vosch, among others—but right now, the more pressing question was, what would he do with me?
Kill me, obviously. He had already attempted it before, and this time, he wouldn’t have bothered explaining his motives unless he planned to finish the job.
But he hadn’t yet, and while I worked on my bindings, I needed to distract him with more questions.
“After I survived the parking garage, you sent Grayson to find out my identity,” I remembered. “Why? You already knew it.”
Again, Daniel looked like I was naive for not deducing the answer myself.
“It would’ve looked suspicious if I already knew who you were. Equally suspicious if I didn’t send someone to try to find out your identity.”
“And then you sentGraysonto kill me. That was a risky move, sending someone who’d recognize me.”
“It was supposed to be dark,” Daniel said.
“Now who’s being naive?”
“Grayson has always followed through with orders in the past.”
“You really thought that even if he recognized me, he would kill me without taking a second to confirm my guilt?”
Daniel’s jaw tightened. How disgusting that he looked offended by Grayson’s pushback.
That’s what his plans were, I realized. A two-part plan. Plan A: It was pitch-black, in the middle of the night, thus Graysonwould hopefully not recognize it was me. Plan B: If he did notice, he’d still follow orders like the good loyal operative he was.
“You overestimated the trust he has in you,” I accused. “You thought he’d kill me anyway, and you could convince Grayson it was a clean kill and put it all behind you. But then…” I shook my head. “He refused, and you had to cover your tracks. You had to create evidence toproveto him I was guilty. But hestilldidn’t believe it, because there was one variable you never factored into your master plan.” I paused. “You never factored in that he’d grow to care about me.”
Ironic, that if Daniel had just killed me in a normal way, his plan wouldn’t have unraveled like this. The deeper the hole he dug for himself, the deeper and more sophisticated he had to become to cover his tracks. All in the name of murder.
Sure, there was the weapons ring he was hiding and his clear alliance with Vosch—both serious crimes. But the gravest offense? The one that started it all? Simple, cold-blooded murder of my father.
I bet he was regretting it right now, not simply shoving me into traffic or something.
I concealed my grimace as a handcuff scraped along my bone. Almost off now. Teetering on the edge.
“When Grayson didn’t follow your latest order …” I started. I had to admit, I took more pleasure in his frustration than I expected. But somehow, the hurt over my father’s death decided to wait patiently behind getting these answers. I nodded my chin toward the staircase. “You sentthoseguys in to get me. All because of what? I asked detectives if they found anything new about my dad’s death? The police think my dad’s death was a suicide. What difference did it make if I asked them questions?”
He squared his shoulders.
“Here’s what you probably didn’t know,” Daniel said. “Every time you went in to talk to the detective, he might’ve said to yourface it was a straightforward suicide. But only because he lacked the cold, hard evidence to prove otherwise. He probably didn’t want to get relatives’ hopes up or cause unnecessary suffering should he be wrong. But every time you poked around, you know what he’d do after you left?”
I swallowed.
“He’d make more phone calls. Order more lab work. He’d move on to other cases while he waited, but you wouldn’t let your father’s case sink to the bottom of his pile. Every time you went in, you brought it right back up to the top.”