Page 21 of Agent vs. Assassin
“Thank you.” I eye Jay where he hovers at the entryway. “Tell Enrique that Paul needs a ride home.”
He pales again. It’s a mighty trick. The next thing I know, he’ll be in Docker shorts playing tennis. “What?” I press.
“He’s with Kane.”
“That’s his problem, not mine. Tell him I need him at Lucas’ house.”
He gives a sharp nod and backs out of the doorway. “Paul,” I say, as he earned my attention again. “I’m not going to kill you. It’s tempting. It really is, but it’s messy, and I don’t have time for messy. We both know you can’t tell Pocher you were stupid enough to get kidnapped without looking incompetent; therefore, I won’t kill you.” I pull my phone out and shoot a photo of him, the rope around his hands.
I check out my work and then turn it around to show him. His mouth is open. If he had a little drool, it would be a perfect little bitch shot. “Pocher should be impressed, don’t you think?” I query, all sticky sweet. “That’s a good knot he worked around your wrists, too.” I flick a look at Lucas. “Impressive.”
“I’ve been practicing,” he mumbles.
It’s a confession that tells me he’s been off the deep end and drowning longer than I know. “We’ll talk about that statement later.”
I return my attention to Paul. “I’ll keep the photo for my personal album, unless you give me a reason to use it otherwise.”
“I’m supposed to be on duty. I’m going to have to explain where I was.”
“That’s a problem for you to figure out. Or we can call Pocher together, if you’d rather. I’ll tell him I ran a test on his security before election night on Tuesday after the massive rally failure. Spoiler. You failed the test.”
“I’ll keep my mouth shut,” he grumbles, and with that win, I glare at Lucas, who’s still standing and presently staring at Paul. “Lucas,” I snap, pointing at the chair. “Sit. Hack.”
Enrique appears in the doorway. “What the fuck, Lilah?”
“Oh, relax. You’re not burying him, Enrique, though Lucas is making me want to cut him.” I glower at him again. “Sit down, Lucas.” This time he sits.
My attention returns to Enrique. “Just take him back to Pocher, will you?”
“Who is he?”
“Pocher’s head of security,” Paul states.
Enrique’s gaze shoots to Lucas. “You did this?”
“I’m a capable person.”
“Spoken with a slur a half bottle deep,” I comment dryly, motioning to the evidence on the table. “Which is why you have to go to rehab—after you find Elsa Walker.”
Paul stiffens. “What about Elsa Walker?”
My gaze rockets to his. “You know her?”
“She and her brother attended a campaign event recently and had VIP backstage passes. I believe Mark donated money to the campaign.”
Okay, I think. This is unexpected when perhaps it shouldn’t have been. Pocher, and now my father, it seems, are into just about everything. And since there’s no such thing as a coincidence, I’d assume this time is no exception.
“Change of plans,” I announce. “I’m coming along for the ride to Pocher’s place.”
If Pocher’s involved, I know exactly how to get him to talk.
Chapter Thirteen
“I hate to burst your bubble,” Paul says, but he doesn’t sound like he hates it at all. “I’m not here with Pocher. With the election four days away, he’s not leaving your father’s side in the city.” He lifts a chin at Lucas. “He snatched me when I arrived to pick up important documents Pocher needed. I never made it past the airport.”
The damn election.
Wait.