Fade To Gray (Triad Series Book 1)

by Dee Davis

"Not according to Emily." Blake shook his head. "The bullet just clipped him. And apparently the damn dog was hit, too. If anything had happened to Bailey, Emily would never forgive me."

  "Emily isn’t going to know that you had anything to do with this."

  "I know. I just hate that she got caught up in it. If Sloan had just backed off, none of this would have happened."

  "Honestly, if Sloan hadn’t come to Emily’s rescue, she’d be in a worse mess right now."

  "Hell, if you like the man so damn much maybe you should go work for him."

  Colburn’s lips tipped in the semblance of a smile. "Sloan couldn’t afford me. Besides, I like it right here. I’m just saying that if you’d let go of this beef you have with the man it would be a hell of a lot easier to protect your daughter."

  "I don’t want him involved with Emily. He’s not good enough for her." He tipped his head back, rubbing his temples. "This whole thing has gotten way out of hand. It would have been so much simpler if Emily had just called me." He straightened again, his eyes meeting Colburn's. "At least tell me we got Sloan’s proof." He was already pretty damn certain he knew the answer, but he asked the question anyway.

  "No. There was a safe, but nothing in it except some worthless papers and a couple thousand in cash. Our guy says there wasn’t anywhere else to hide anything." Colburn spread his hands with a shrug. "But as you already know, he was interrupted. You want to have someone else go in and have another look?"

  "No. If the papers were there, they’re not now. Sloan is too smart to take another chance. And if he didn’t already have copies, you know that he’ll make them now." And trot them out for Emily to see. Blake had spent the last ten years waiting for the other fucking shoe to drop. Knowing that at any moment, Sloan could blow his world apart. Show Emily the proof of his innocence and worse, Blake’s involvement in all of it.

  "I’ve never understood why the bastard didn’t just take Emily the proof all those years ago. It’s got to be pretty damning if it was enough to clear his name." As usual, Colburn cut straight to the heart of the matter.

  "I don’t know. Most likely it had to do with Emily herself."

  "What do you mean?"

  It was his turn to shrug. "It was easy enough to make it look as though she was complicit in my efforts to ruin Sloan. Maybe he held his tongue because he believed she was part of it."

  "Well, at least based on what I’ve been hearing, I’d say he’s over any ill will. The two of them apparently looked pretty damn cozy last night."

  "Which is why I wanted him stopped."

  "I told you before, it would be easy enough to come up with a permanent solution," Colburn offered.

  "It may come to that. But for now, just keep a man on Emily. I want to know where she is. I need to know that she’s protected."

  "From Sloan."

  "From whoever the hell is a threat. Sloan included."

  *****

  "LOOK, IF YOU’RE going to lecture me about what you just saw," Emily said, surprised at how calm she sounded, "you should know that Gideon was kissing me."

  "From where I was standing it sure as hell looked like you were a willing participant."

  Heat washed across Emily’s cheeks. "I didn’t mean that I didn’t…I just…I don’t know what to say."

  "There’s nothing for you to say," Ryder said, moving to stand in front of her. "It’s obvious the two of you still care about each other."

  "Yes, well, it doesn’t change anything." She didn’t want to discuss her feelings for Gideon. Especially not with Ryder. "I’m surprised you weren’t at the funeral with Declan and Gideon." The three of them had always been joined at the hip. It was one of the reasons she’d always believed Ryder had resented her. She’d pulled Gideon out of their orbit.

  "I had something I had to do." He shrugged, looking as uncomfortable as she felt. "And it’s not like I was a big fan of the senator. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. Saves me a trip."

  "I’m sorry?" She wasn’t sure why he wanted to talk to her, but she had a sinking feeling it wasn’t going to result in anything positive.

  "I need to give you something. But before I do, you have to understand that I’m trying to do the right thing here. For Gideon. And I guess, for you too."

  Well, that was a rousing recommendation.

  "I don’t understand," she said, chewing on her lip as she studied him. "Is this something to do with the senator’s murder?"

  "No. It’s about what happened with your father and Gideon." Her gut clenched, her heart stuttering. Ryder’s fingers tightened on the manila envelope he held. "Look, I’m doing this badly. Hell, I’m not even sure I should be doing it all." He took a deep breath and then held out the envelope. "Take it."

  "What is it?" she asked, staring at the envelope, not at all certain if she wanted to touch it.

  "It’s proof."

  "Proof of what?" She felt like she was playing twenty questions. Clearly whatever this was about, Ryder was conflicted.

  He ran a hand through his hair. "Gideon’s innocence."

  "But I told you my father showed me the evidence." She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. "It was damning."

  "Yeah, well, whatever he showed you was bogus."

  "You seem awfully sure of yourself."

  "I am. It’s all in here." He held the envelope out again.

  The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. "Oh my God, this is what the guy was looking for last night, wasn’t it? Does Gideon know you’re giving this to me?"

  Ryder ducked his head, blowing out a long breath. "No. And if he did, he’d probably shoot me."

  "So you took it from him?" None of this was making any sense.

  "He didn’t have it. It’s been with Charlie this whole time."

  "Charlie?" Now she was really and truly lost. "Who is Charlie?"

  "It’s just a name we gave to the guy who rescued Gideon. We’ve actually never met him."

  Because Charlie was her father. She’d agreed to stay away from Gideon if her father would drop the case against him. Which by default meant her father was responsible for the rescue. "By dropping the case, you mean," she prompted.

  It was Ryder’s turn to look confused. "No. By producing hard evidence that cleared Gideon’s name. Emily, this envelope contains the truth about what happened all those years ago."

  "But my father—"

  "Your father was the guilty one." Ryder’s eyes flashed as he cut her off. "He was behind the whole thing. All of it. The tainted oil. Framing Gideon. Even manufacturing the evidence he showed you. The documents in here are concrete. And they not only clear Gideon, they implicate your father."

  Her breath caught, her mind churning. "I don’t believe you."

  "I didn’t expect you to. That’s why I went to the effort to get the files."

  "From Charlie. What makes you think these papers aren’t the ones that were fabricated?"

  "Because everything checks out. All of it. There’s no question as to their authenticity."

  "Then why wasn’t my father charged?" She tilted her head, feeling a rush of triumph. "If what you’re saying is true, then surely he would have been indicted."

  "He would have. If Gideon had turned the whole thing over to the authorities. But he didn’t. He only gave them enough to clear his name."

  "Why would he do that?" Her voice had risen to almost a shriek, her mind screaming that none of this could possibly be true.

  "Oh, come on, Emily, surely you can figure that out." Ryder’s brows rose and he waited, silence descending.

  Her heart twisted, her stomach lurching. "For me? You’re saying he didn’t prosecute my father because of me?"

  "You’ll have to ask him," Ryder said. "Look, he didn’t want you to know about any of this. Figured it was just water under the bridge at this point. But as you’re well aware, I’ve seen the two of you together. And I just can’t swallow the idea of you believing the worst of Gideon when it’s not true. The way I see it, you have a rig
ht to the truth."

  "Or what you believe is the truth." She wasn’t sure why she said it. It wasn’t as if she wanted Gideon to be guilty, but the idea that her father might have lied to her was equally repellant.

  "Just read the papers." He handed her the envelope and this time she took it. "And after you’ve read them talk to Gideon. Or don’t. It’s out of my hands."

  She nodded, her throat suddenly too tight to force out any words. And with a grim smile, he nodded and walked out of the office, leaving her alone with her whirling thoughts. She stared down at the envelope, and with shaking fingers started to open it and then stopped.

  It was as if Ryder had given her Pandora’s box. Once it was opened whatever was inside couldn’t be put back. And no matter what the real truth was, she had a feeling there would be hell to pay.

  *****

  "SO YOU’RE TELLING me we have a problem." Yuri Patanko frowned, his cool disdain making Vincent struggle to contain a shudder. Not for the first time he cursed himself for getting involved with the Russian mob. But in for the penny and all that.

  "No. I’m saying there’s potential for a problem. My niece’s unintentional involvement in Irwin’s death means that all kinds of people are digging around for answers, and I don’t want them finding out that I—" Vincent squared his shoulders and met Patanko’s eyes "—or you were in any way involved."

  He was sitting across from Patanko at a table in the back room of an obscure diner in Brighton Beach. Two of the Russian’s men flanked Patanko on either side, both standing back slightly, giving their boss space without leaving him unprotected. Vincent had no doubt that if he screwed this up he wouldn’t walk out of here alive.

  "I’m not convinced that there is a credible threat. The police haven’t made any real progress," Patanko said, his eyes narrowing. He was a big man, swarthy, with a swirl of blond hair that, despite his age, didn’t show a hint of gray. "We have sources inside the department. Besides, thanks to your brother, New York’s finest are running around in circles. He clearly has his own reasons to thwart the investigation."

  For a moment, Vincent forgot his fears. "You have proof of Blake’s culpability?" He was more than aware that something was up with his brother. He hadn’t lived with the man for this many years without learning to read his moods, but in truth, he had no idea other than Jack Wetherston’s accusations and, thanks to the man’s death, those were strictly hearsay.

  Patanko shrugged. "My men are working on finding the truth. As I said, I have people on the inside." Of everywhere apparently. Vincent almost smiled at the thought that Patanko might have infiltrated Blake’s bastion. If his brother had loaned Vincent the money he’d needed, he wouldn’t be here now, pleading with a mob king.

  "It’s not enough," Vincent responded, pulling himself from his thoughts. No sense in dwelling on what might have been. Better to deal with now. "The real problem is with a man called Gideon Sloan. Are you familiar with him?"

  The Russian nodded, leaning back to light a cigarette. "Yes. He owns Triad. According to my sources they’re quite accomplished."

  "Your sources are right. Which is why we need to be concerned. When he and his partners take a case they are very—how shall I say it—determined. And given Gideon’s relationship with my niece, he is beyond motivated to find answers."

  Patanko frowned. "I was given to understand that there was a falling out between the two of them."

  "There was," Vincent agreed, "but that was years ago and now, given the circumstances, everything seems to point to a reconciliation. And even if we were able to stop their reunion somehow, I get the feeling that Gideon will follow through regardless. He’s a rather dogged fellow, all things told."

  "And if the whole truth comes out, you, my friend, would be in very big trouble." Despite the use of the word ‘friend’, there was no mistaking the implied threat.

  "I wouldn’t be alone." Vincent strove to convey a bravery he most definitely didn’t feel as he stared defiantly at the Russian.

  Silence held for a moment, Patanko blowing cigarette smoke. "You think to frighten me?" the mob boss asked, one of his henchmen moving closer in response to his words or perhaps just the tone.

  Vincent felt his blood run cold.

  "No." He lifted his hands, his gaze darting back and forth between Patanko and the henchman—not Serge, but someone equally frightening, and clearly fingering a weapon in his pocket. Cold sweat broke out across Vincent’s brow. He sucked in a ragged breath. "I’m just trying to cover all my bases."

  "You Americans and your baseball." Patanko laughed, but the sound was devoid of humor. "Have you taken care of Jesse Tyler?"

  "I haven’t been able to track him down." An understatement. He’d been trying to run his so-called ally to ground with no success whatsoever. It was as if the man had simply disappeared. "I suspect he’s just lying low." Actually he'd bet money the man had run as far and as fast as he could after the way things had turned out, but Vincent wasn’t about to share that with the Russians.

  "Well, see that you find him and keep him quiet or I’ll see that my men take care of it."

  "I swear to you I can handle Jesse." The sweat dripped down his neck as he considered all that lay at stake. "The important thing," he said, cutting to the chase, praying that it was enough, "is that all is not lost. It’s not too late for our plans to go through. Even with Irwin’s death, there is still money to be made. All we have to do is turn the attention elsewhere." He paused, summoning a calm he didn’t feel. "It’s a simple solution. We remove Gideon Sloan from the equation and we make sure my brother looks like he’s the one behind it." It was a daring request, but if executed—damn the pun—properly, it was the best shot at defusing what had become a nightmarish situation.

  "The police probably already suspect him," he continued. "There was a break in at Gideon’s loft last night. And believe me, my brother will stop at nothing to make certain his daughter is protected." Vincent produced the narrow file he carried in his brief case. "This is from before. The first time my brother tried to remove Gideon from Emily’s circle."

  "But you were saying it didn’t succeed." Patanko was clearly interested. Vincent felt himself relax slightly.

  "It worked for ten years." He forced what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug. "And who is to say that this time he isn’t looking for a more permanent solution?"

  Patanko actually smiled, although the gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes. Still, he signaled his man to stand down.

  Vincent blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. "If my brother’s somewhat questionable dealings were to come to light. And Gideon Sloan were to be removed from action. The connection between the two, when added to my brother’s admitted dislike for the man…" He trailed off with a shrug.

  "Your loyalty to family is not exactly commendable."

  Vincent recognized the test for what it was. "My loyalty is to you—and our deal. The rest is expendable." A small niggle of guilt worked its way up his spine. But then he’d made his bed. And hell, so had his brother.

  CHAPTER 18

  "SO WHAT HAVE YOU GOT?" Gideon asked as he strode into Ryder’s office.

  "What? No ‘honey how’ve you been’?" Harrison Blake glanced up from the computer monitor he and Declan were studying. The man was lanky and tall, with unruly brown hair. His grin was engaging and, despite Gideon’s tangled thoughts after sharing a kiss with Emily, he couldn’t help but return the smile.

  "I’m thinking maybe the endearments ought to be restricted to Hannah. We wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea." Gideon had met Harrison a couple of times over the years, as well as his girlfriend, Hannah Marshall, who also was an operative with the CIA. He’d always liked them both, and knew that Ryder respected the man. "So how the hell are you?"

  Harrison shrugged, his eyes, one green and one brown, still full of laughter. "Same old, same old. Saving the world one byte at a time."

  "I think he means ‘bite’," Declan sai
d, nodding at the remains of a burger sitting on a greasy white sack. "Dude can eat. That’s his second one."

  Harrison shrugged. "What can I say? I need fortification when I’m working."

  Gideon perched on a stool next to Harrison’s, moving his attention to the screen. "You finding anything?"

  "Just started, really. But I should be able to bring the shadows into clearer focus. Which should in turn make it easier to identify everything in the photo."

  Gideon grimaced as Harrison enlarged the image of Emily and Irwin, her lolling head making him want to hit something. Irwin, actually, if the man wasn’t already dead. But there was nothing to be gained in giving in to his anger. At least until he had some answers. He tightened his fists, his thoughts drifting to the encounter with Emily in his office. There was so much garbage between them, and yet when he’d pulled her into his arms, it almost seemed as if none of it were truly significant. As if somehow, despite everything, they were still connected to each other.

  But he’d been down this road before and he wasn’t going to let himself fall into a trap. Emily had betrayed him. Simple as that. And he’d do well to remember. Except that even as he had the thought, he rejected it. It wasn’t simple at all. His relationship with Emily was conflicted and complicated and somehow as necessary to him as breathing.

  Damn it all to hell.

  On a sharp exhale, he forced himself to focus on the screen, ignoring Declan’s frown of concern. "So are you really going to be able to make it clearer?"

  "I hope so." Harrison zoomed in on the shadowy area and the grainy image of what might be an arm with a tattoo. "I’m using a program I developed with an algorithm that analyzes the image and then fills in the missing pixels as the picture is enlarged. It’s not perfect, but it’s usually pretty damn accurate. We use it a lot to enhance facial recognition. And so it should work here as well. It just takes a little manipulation and a lot of patience."

  "None of which I have," Declan said with a shake of his head. "I swear to God if I had to sit here all day staring at that monitor, I’d run screaming for the hills before the sun came down."