“I don’t mean now. I mean, in the past. Did his uncle have anything to do with anyone we’ve encountered? It seems strange that this specific field was chosen. And I find it hard to believe it was a coincidence.”
Brett breathed through the anger that wanted to explode from him at the accusation, but he paused instead. He didn’t know anything about Felix’s uncle except what Felix himself had said. For all he knew, Frank could’ve been part of something bigger that no one knew about.
“As much as I want to deny it, I can’t because I honestly don’t know.”
Dominic sent a small smile his way. “It’s another bit of information we need to consider.”
Brett nodded slowly. It was, but it didn’t mean he had to like it, and Felix certainly wouldn’t. “Could you look into that part? I think I’m too close to it, and if Felix finds out, he’d murder me.”
“Sure. Though he’s likely to murder me, too.”
“Let’s leave it there until we have more information. Owen, Nick and Felix all have people to talk to; Sam has computer stuff, and you have Frank. What I’m going to do is speak to Malcolm.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to see if he knows something, and the only way to know for certain is to see him face-to-face.”
Dominic stared at him. “I’m not sure I like the idea of you going alone, especially with everything that’s happened.”
“I won’t get anything out of him if I don’t. And he won’t hurt me, he’s too chickenshit.”
“If you say so,” Dominic said slowly. “I still don’t like it, though.”
“You know where I’ll be. If I’m not back in,” he glanced at his watch, “two hours, come in guns blazing.”
“Understood.” Dominic hesitated before asking, “Should I tell Felix when he gets back?”
Brett paused, glancing to the side as he went through the different options available to him. If he told him, Felix would either be mad and stay there, or be mad and go looking for him, or be fine about it. If he didn’t tell him and Felix found out when Brett got back, Felix would be pissed beyond belief.
“Yes, tell him, but try to keep him here. There are too many people outside for him to go off alone right now.”
Dominic snorted. “Yeah, I’ll try. Not guaranteeing anything, though.”
Brett headed to his desk to grab his coat and check that he had everything he needed. He stared at the radio, wondering if he should take it with him. It would be good to get something on tape, but he would end up in the hospital—or the Thames—if they found it. He shook his head, not wanting to risk it. He slipped his coat over his shoulders and strode to the door. It took all his restraint to stay away from the receiving room before he left. Felix was more than capable of doing his job and dealingwith people, but since Brett had taken a taste of him, he wanted more. He wanted to be with him all the time, and that couldn’t happen. They had jobs to do, lives to lead, and Felix had family.
On the drive to Malcolm’s home—Brett’s childhood one—he mentally walked through the options he had. He could be completely honest with Malcolm with the hope that he would reciprocate, but it was unlikely. He could tell some half-truths, after all, some of the men at the house Felix had been taken to were his; he must know something had happened to them. Or he could blatantly lie and see what verbal volleyball they ended up having. Sometimes that worked well because bits of information came out unexpectedly. Deciding to go the half-truth route to begin with, he pulled up at the gate.
“Wait, please,” the guard said, entering the surveillance box to make a call without even asking who he was. But then, everyone probably knew him.
Brett watched his profile, his lips moving before he paused. He spoke again and then hung up.
“Go on through,” the guard said, though Brett could tell he wasn’t happy about it.
“Thanks.”
The guard’s eyebrows rose as if surprised by his manners. “You’re welcome.”
He parked in a space in front of the house and inhaled deeply before letting it out slowly. Every time he visited, the memories thrust him back in time, both good and bad visions. It was impossible to keep them at bay, but he swallowed them down, ignoring them while he climbed out and headed for the door. His gaze took in several guards around the perimeter of the house, but there was plenty more he couldn’t see, of that he was certain.
The front door opened as he reached it, Malcolm himself gesturing him inside. “What a surprise.”
“We have things to discuss, Malcolm.”
“We do indeed. Not least of which is my missing five men.” Malcolm headed deeper into the house, which meant that Brett got further away from the place that held the worst memories, a step in the right direction for Brett to be able to keep his cool.
“Five, was it? I wondered how many were yours.”
Malcolm stared at him from behind the island counter in the kitchen, and Brett perched himself on a barstool on the opposite side. They stared at each other for a while before Malcolm shook his head.