Page 114 of Wicked Brutal

“Maybe.” Danny nods. “But they don’t all have to do everything.” Arthur watches him. Danny’s scientist brain is fully awake now. “They just need to do their piece.”

Dad leans forward. “Facilitation.”

Arthur looks at him. “That’s the prosecutor’s word. One person has political access. Another can move money. Another can make an introduction. Another has a legitimate company or foundation. Another knows someone at customs.”

Thomas’s face hardens. “Another has a vulnerable family.”

Callum adds, “Or creates one.”

Thomas rubs his hand over his mouth. “They groom the families.”

“Sometimes,” Arthur says.

And there it is. The thing that’s been sitting underneath all of this since September. Not one crime. Not one family. A system. Rich men with legitimate jobs and legitimate businesses and political connections and foundations and charities and money moving through places normal people never see. They don’t need some fucking clubhouse. They don’t need robes. They don’t need a secret handshake. They already have access to each other. And when one of them needs something, somebody else can provide it. Money. Drugs. Information. A judge. A customs official. A politician. A family. A girl.

I look at Arthur. “Who’s above Roman?”

“We don’t know that anyone is.”

“Someone is protecting this.”

“Possibly.”

“Pennington goes down and it keeps moving. Lucian goes to prison and it keeps moving. Hartley gets arrested and Roman sits at dinner talking about all three of them like he’s reviewing bad fucking investments.” Arthur doesn’t answer. “Victor talks about them like mistakes.” Still nothing. “Somebody is still fucking standing.”

Dad looks at me. “That doesn’t necessarily mean one person.”

Maybe it’s the whole machine protecting itself. Maybe there are five more Romans. Maybe there are fifty. Maybe there is one person in the middle. We don’t know. That’s what makes it worse.

Iz leans forward. “Somebody has to know the whole thing.”

Arthur looks at him. “Maybe.”

“Pennington knew his piece. Lucian knew his. Hartley knew enough to know Roman. Roman knows Victor. But somebody has to know where all the pieces meet.”

My phone feels heavy in my pocket. Ally has lunch with Victor today. While we’re sitting here realizing the man she’s been promised to since she was thirteen is part of something that has been circling all of us since September.

Dad clears his throat. “Earlier this week, Jane called Cassandra. She needed someone to keep Tobias for an hour until Ally got out of school.”

Callum frowns. “That’s not unusual.”

“No. We’re neighbors. Our families have known each other for years. Cassandra would’ve taken him without thinking twice.” Dad pauses. “What wasn’t normal was Jane asking Cassandra not to tell Roman.”

Thomas leans back. “Jane deliberately went behind him.”

“Then yesterday,” Dad says, looking at me.

I take over. “Roman went to Boston.” The memory is so different from this room that it almost doesn’t fit. Sun on the lake. Tobias running around. Mom feeding everybody. Dad telling increasingly elaborate lies about his failed leprechaun hunt. Ally laughing. For three hours, she was just mine. Not Victor’s future wife. Not Roman’s daughter. Mine. “Tobias wanted a playdate,” I say. “Ally used that as cover. Jane was sleeping at home. Roman was gone. She brought him to our lake house.”

Xander looks at Dad. “Did you tell him about the leprechaun?”

Dad looks offended. “Obviously.”

Iz groans. “What leprechaun?”

“The one my father failed to catch,” I say.

Dad turns toward me. “I did not fail.”