Page 77 of What Remains

“You were following a lead about your fiancé, and no one blames you for doing that,” Gideon reassures her in an almost gentle voice, his words and tone taking me by surprise. He’s always all hard edges, and an eleven out of ten on the brood scale.

Julian stops typing, and the room falls dead quiet.

“We spent half the flight here poring over the intel package Molly provided you,” Gideon says, “and it was a solid lead. You did the right thing in going. You hoped to find out new information about Preston’s death while also taking out a trafficking ring. It’s what we’d all have done.”

Props to him for being a voice of reason for her. Maybe she’ll finally listen and stop mentally beating herself up about this.

“And if The Chechen really didn’t kill Preston,” Carter interjects, realizing Zoey’s not ready to let that go, “there’s still a chance whoever Jezebel reports to is tied to Preston’s real murderer and they⁠—”

“Baited me there to screw with me,” Zoey finishes for him, her voice sharp and still plagued by guilt. Her green gaze flicks to me, remorse solid and thick. I don’t want her feeling that way, but something tells me she won’t shake it until the case is closed and the enemy is behind bars. Or, you know, dead.

“I also pulled up the CCTV footage of your meeting in London with Molly when she gave you the intel last month,” I share, and Zoey’s gaze cuts to me beneath thick, tight brows as if I’m suggesting I don’t trust her. So, I clarify, “I was hoping to see where Molly went afterward, but I lost her. That also happens to be the last time she ever showed her face on camera.”

Zoey lifts her chin a touch like she’s trying to nod but can’t fully commit to it.

Mason saves me from the awkwardness by turning in his seat toward her. “We’ll figure this out.”

Her gaze bounces back and forth between Mason at her left and Gideon at her right, like she’s unsure who to turn to. Looks like she’s not ready to welcome sympathy from anyone.

“Well, what do you all know so far?” Diana asks, offering her a reprieve, which is pretty nice of her, especially considering the past Zoey shares with her husband.

You’re a bigger person than I am. I’m still jealous of the fact that Easton went on a few dates with Julian and Gideon’s sister several years ago, and Easton isn’t even mine. Heck, I didn’t even know him then. Yet, when I learned that tidbit of intel in August—about them dating and how Hollis ended it with him, worried she’d fall for him (don’t blame her there) . . . I almost lost it. At least they didn’t sleep together, but still. The history’s there.

I look up at Carter as he answers his wife’s question. “We traced the wire payments to the Dubai hotel employees to a bogus account in the Caymans.” Time to get out of my head and back in operator mode. “Bodhi and another man checked into the hotel three days before Gwen and you all arrived.”

Bodhi. Also known as the blue-eyed arsehole. This is the first time anyone’s voiced his official name in my presence when talking about what happened, and it has my stomach turning.

Carter clears his throat, probably recognizing how uncomfortable I am at the use of that name. “The two men must’ve recruited the three hotel workers on-site and in person. No digital footprint outside the payments.”

“And my guess is those employees were only paid half upfront with the promise of the rest after the job was done,” Julian chimes in. “They never had to pay the rest since they were killed right after Gwen was taken.”

“They covered their tracks,” Mya grumbles, still standing behind Oliver’s chair. “Which means Jezebel sent men to Dubai who had no ties to her outside the compound.”

“Where are you at on checking out The Sapphire’s guests to see if anyone here is tied to this?” Diana asks next.

I pull my rig closer and switch the screen views before spinning it around so she can see what I’ve been working on with Jerry this afternoon. I finally got into the groove, and Jerry has proved himself a decent companion.

“I created a program that will comb through the backgrounds of every single guest checked in here now, as well as anyone who’s visited in the last six weeks. It’ll organize them into different categories based on certain criteria—from connections with us to the two men Zoey identified who took me in Dubai and so on. It’ll do all the heavy lifting for us and give us a list of names of possible traitors to question.”

“That’s impressive.” Diana turns to the side, leaning into Carter. “What about your⁠—”

“My team on the ground in Brisbane hasn’t turned up anything we don’t already know,” Gideon answers before she can finish her question. “And the government came up empty after searching the rubble at the compound. All evidence was destroyed.” He looks around at the rest of the team, his expression grim, as if he knows we’re not going to like what he has to say next. “My guy with ADF also let us know what your husband already assumed would happen. The man the Aussies arrested is innocent.”

With her free hand, Diana pushes her glasses to the bridge of her nose. “ADF?”

“Australian Defence Force,” Carter clarifies as the door clicks and opens.

Dad and Easton return, and Dad looks a little less “want to kill a guy,” so that’s good.

Easton settles back at the table while Dad remains standing, removing his mobile from his pocket. “Natasha just texted. She’s heading to the indoor pool with Ella and the others.”

“Looks like that’s what you all need to do, too.” Diana eases free from Carter and surveys us all one by one. “You’re exhausted. Jet-lagged and frustrated. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and join them?” She faces me. “And your program is running on its own, right?”

“It is,” I confirm.

“You want us to relax?” Gideon guffaws.

“I do.” Diana laces her fingers with Carter’s. “I’ll have dinner sent to the pool later.”