Mistress

Chapter 98

Sean Patrick Riley and I sit in his rental car outside my fleabag hotel. It’s been three hours since we left Anne Brennan’s house. Three hours for me to process what I saw in the back of that sedan.

And three hours to figure out what to do next.

“You’re sure about this plan?” Sean asks me.

I sigh. “No, but I can’t think of any other. I have to do something.”

“No, you don’t,” Sean says. “Who put you in charge of saving the world? If I were you, I’d get as much money as I could out of that Russian billionaire, cut whatever deal you need to cut with the feds, and move to some island. But that’s just me.”

The guy makes a good point.

“And this whole plan of yours depends on the video,” Sean says.

“Right. Now that I know what’s on it, I can make this plan work.”

He grunts with disapproval. “You mean now that you think you know what’s on the video, you think you can make this plan work.”

That’s a bit more accurate, yes.

“I mean, you’re just making an educated guess, Ben. And if you’re wrong, you’re basically fucked.”

“Just worry about your phone call,” I say, changing the subject. “You’re sure you have the phone number?”

He groans. “I do. I’ve already read it back to you.”

He’s not used to someone giving him directions. That’s probably one of the reasons he stopped being a cop and became his own boss as a private eye.

“And you’ll use an untraceable phone,” I say.

He waves me off. “Yes. Yes, already. Don’t worry, Ben. I’m capable of making one damn phone call.”

I nod. We are quiet for a moment. At least Sean seems to be enjoying the excitement. Me, I have acid burning a hole in my stomach.

“If your plan doesn’t work,” Sean informs me, “you’re done. They’ll arrest you and bury you in a hole. You can make all kinds of wild accusations, but you won’t be able to prove them.”

All that is true, of course.

“And that assumes you survive, the odds of which are fifty-fifty at best, in my opinion.”

Never tell me the odds, Han Solo said in Star Wars as he navigated around the oncoming asteroids.

“Then my plan better work,” I say.