Charlotte Bennardo - Blonde Ops A Novel

I didn’t feel sorry for Serena, and I didn’t think Candace did either.

“From what Inspector Poulet told me, it’s the way the Renan family operates,” Candace added. “My guess is that Taj checked Ortiz out and promised to take care of her and her family if she got caught—the price of her silence. Same for Luca.”

“So what happens now?” I asked, sitting on the end of the bed.

Candace and Parker exchanged a look.

“Hey, no secret spy signals!” I protested. “I went through a lot! I was zip-tied with Kevin, had guns waved at me, had to jog a marathon in wedges through nasty sewers, got slammed around in a crazy car chase, and saved the First Lady. ”

“I think she deserves to know some,” said Parker softly “Without her, we could have lost Mrs. Jennings.”

Yes! Let’s trust Bec!

Candace deliberated a few moments. “Okay, but don’t ask any more questions when I’m done. Agreed?”

I didn’t want to concede, but I knew Candace wouldn’t say a word until I did.

“Fine.” I sounded surly. And I was. After everything, they still weren’t going to let me inside the circle?

“Like Inspector Poulet said, Interpol has been watching the Renan family for a long time. He was actually the original officer assigned to the case. He’s been tailing Taj because his superiors felt that the family was ready to make a move—”

“—because of Taj’s brother,” I said.

“That’s right. Santo Renan, unlike his little brother, joined his father in the family business—arms dealing. He was caught and put into a Supermax prison shortly before Taj emerged as a fashion blogger. This effort to free him has been a long time in planning.”

“How did he manage to keep his identity so secret and for so long?”

Candace looked exasperated. “What did we say about questions?”

“Oh, come on!”

She sighed. “It seems that to protect them from law enforcement and rivals, the sons were raised separate from their real family—countries apart—but aware of their heritage, who their true parents were, and even saw them from time to time. They were always kept away from the public. There was never any concrete documentation of a visit, exchange of information or even gifts.”

I shivered, remembering what Taj had told me.

… haven’t you learned not to leave evidence? A note can be found if it’s not destroyed. I don’t leave anything behind that I don’t mind others finding. Not on paper—and never electronically. E-mail and electronic searches can be traced, even if it’s erased.…

It had been ingrained in him from birth.

“So everything was done through others,” I said.

Candace nodded. “An ever-changing network of them, according to the inspector. Always a few that knew only so much—and then new people would be brought in. We’re trying to trace the connection between the Renans and his adoptive family in India, but it’s a thin thread. The real question is whether Renan Senior was involved in this plot, or if Taj was acting on his own.”

Rebellious, loyal, doing whatever he had to do to correct a perceived wrong … If Renan Senior went to this length to disassociate himself from Taj—for Taj’s own protection—he wouldn’t have hatched this or any plot that would have involved his son. My guess was that Taj was flying solo, and when Papa found out, he wasn’t going to be pleased. But that was just a guess.

“Bec.” Parker squeezed my hand, drawing my attention away from Candace. “If you ever hear from Taj again, you must report it. Immediately.”

I nodded, but I didn’t think he’d try. It wouldn’t be worth the risk for him.

“So when do you get out?” I asked Parker, changing the subject.

“In about a week.”

I glanced quickly at Candace.

Parker’s eyes followed my gaze. “Candace will stay on until the investigation is finished, then she’ll be reassigned. Kevin will take over Edge until I’m ready to go back to work.” She tapped my hand with a finger. “Your spying days are over.”

TRICKS AND TIPS FOR THE EDGE-Y GIRL

Whether it’s your data, an extra pair of heels, or a spare lipstick in your favorite shade, always have a backup.

33

Candace had a car take me back to the hotel.

As I watched the scenery flick by, I thought about Dante and all that we shared. He was open and honest, he never withheld anything about his life or what he was thinking. He never used me. He jumped right in to help Kevin, Sophie, and me rescue the First Lady, even though it was dangerous. He’d been nothing but sweet and hot and exciting. Those memories made me happy and warm, especially that last searing kiss.

Then there was Taj.

He was absolutely wrong about us being the same. He clearly had no qualms about crossing certain boundaries that I wouldn’t even dare to approach. But I couldn’t deny that we had a few similarities. The hacking was part of it, but there was more. Being separated from his family, like I was from mine, made us both learn to depend on ourselves and trust few others. We were both mysteries even with our friends, to an extent. Dante, surrounded by his mother, sisters, and numerous cousins, would never understand the isolation.

Taj had taken things too far, though. Now he had multiple countries and agencies who would never give up on trying to find him. The seclusion would be a thousand times worse for him.

For now, at least Parker was healing quickly, the First Lady was safe, and I wasn’t in trouble.

For once.

Dragging myself past the front desk where Nelson no longer asked to search my backpack or demanded ID, I thought about sleeping for a week.

“Miss Jackson?” called the concierge at the desk.

I turned wearily. “Yes?”

“You have a delivery.”

“Delivery?” The last thing I needed right now was more homework, but when he pulled it out from under his counter, it wasn’t a manila envelope but a rectangular box.

“Would you like us to send it up?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, I’ll take it.” I was immediately sorry as soon as I grabbed it. It was heavier than I expected. Staggering to the elevator, I went straight up to the suite. Once inside, I put it on the coffee table. Still overwhelmed by the last few days, my body demanded rest. I took a long, hot bubble bath, then pulled on my pj’s even though it was only around three o’clock. I wasn’t going anywhere, with anyone.

After a while, I turned on my laptop. I’d hidden it in the office as usual during Mrs. Jennings’s interview and didn’t think of going back for it in the chaos after she went missing. It turned out to be a good thing. I couldn’t imagine having to drag my backpack through the sewers, up all the stairs, and then on the wild car ride. Once the interrogation by Inspector Poulet was over, I had asked Candace about it, and she had one of the agents retrieve my gear.

When I signed into my e-mail account, the monitor went black, and a message in green letters came up, filling up the entire screen.

Bec,

I’m sorry for the way things had to turn out, but I did it to save my brother. I can’t tell you more than that. This message is as much as I can or am willing to risk. It’s very important to me that you know I wasn’t going to let anyone get hurt.

Especially you.

One day we will meet again and I hope to convince you not to hate me. I’ll do whatever it takes …

Taj

The message blinked on the screen, refreshing itself over and over. I read it again and again, growing angrier with each pass. Taj was looking to swap Mrs. Jennings for his brother—and he wasn’t going to let anyone get hurt? Was he kidding? Then why the guns? And what about Parker? And the threats? We were all put in danger. And now I would have to hand my laptop over to Candace—after I wiped my personal things and not-always-so-kosher stuff from it. I didn’t want to mess with Taj’s message in any way. The Secret Service or Interpol tech people would be able to trace the e-mail, see where he sent it from, see—