“And what do you want me to do about it?” I asked, reading the name on the paper.
Centrium Group.
She nearly said something, then paused.
“I—I don’t know,” she admitted, her eyebrows drawing together. “I thought you could find something out about them. I’venever managed to get on the internet here, so I can’t really research anything...”
“And if you find out something about them, what are you going to do about it? Go out there and try to bring them down? Tell the police? Expose them to a reporter?” I asked, pushing the paper back across the desk to Katarina.
She stared at me defiantly. “Why not? They can’t be allowed to continue. They are the ones who profit off all of it. What happened to Mira is on them, too.”
I nodded simply. “Sure, it is, but you don’t know who these people are. They could be Mafia. You can’t take them on.”
“You could,” she challenged.
A chuckle left me at her confident words. “Maybe, but I won’t.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
Something stuck in my throat at her look. It was fearless. It was strong. Katarina had a moral outrage that I rarely witnessed in my world. She was a good person, through and through. She’d seen awful things happen, and she wanted to do something about it, despite what it might cost her. If I wasn’t careful, that look on her face would enchant me into promising to be her white knight, and that wasn’t a role I was qualified to play. I could be her grim reaper, but never her guardian angel. After all, I’d never managed to keep my mother safe, so what chance did I have to save anyone else?
“Because I don’t care. I’m not being paid to care,” I said.
She flinched at my caustic tone. It was better she understood who I was now than hide it.
I loomed over the desk and got in her face. She was so lovely with her chin high and eyes blazing, spoiling for a fight.
“I’m not your hero, Katarina, you should understand that now. Centrium, Pavol, and Benedict... I don’t care about any of them,except for doing the job I’ve been employed to do. I don’t care about the bad guys. I am one of them.”
A vein pulsed in her throat, the only sign that she was scared. Scared of me. It was something I was used to, of course. It was better that way. It kept things clean.
“Come into the office,” I instructed firmly, deciding to end this pointless conversation. I strode around the back of the desk and into the small private office behind it. Inside, I took the tape and painkillers out of my pocket and set them on the table, then leaned a hip on the desk.
Katarina shuffled in slowly, slightly bent over in a way that clearly pained her less.
“Do a better job of hiding your injury,” I muttered.
She glowered at me. “Well, I heard the police already ruled it a suicide, so I guess I’m off the hook.”
“Not with Pavol and Benedict. They know something went down, they just don’t know what, and they can’t afford to have detectives in here poking around.”
She nodded and then winced again.
“Close the door and lose the T-shirt,” I demanded.
She blinked at me, pink immediately tinting her cheeks. “Here? Anyone could walk by.”
“That’s why we’re inside the office. Take your shirt off now.”
She sighed heavily. “You sure get off on ordering people around.” She held herself away from me, probably upset that I hadn’t offered to help her with her little investigative task.
“And you’re sure argumentative with someone you just found out is a stone-cold killer mere hours ago.”
She thought that one over for a moment, her hands on the hem of her T-shirt.
“Technically, I was the stone-cold killer last night, so”—she eyed me up and down— “watch yourself, Lucifer.”
That pulled a chuckle from me. How the fuck she managed to keep her wit and dark humor in this place was a miracle in itself. I’d been right that morning when I’d first glimpsed her outside in the snow. She was special.