Page 92

We meet with the journalist in a hole-in-the-wall bar on the south side of downtown Boston.

At barely past eleven, there are only a couple of other patrons in the place, and none of them pay us any mind as we find Audra in a booth near the back.

“The infamous friend with fangs,” she says as we approach, looking me up and down. “Glad you could join us.”

Ophelia takes a seat in the booth, and I slide in after her. A bored-looking server stops by the table, barely glancing at us as we ask for a couple of sodas before he shuffles away.

“Part of the charm of this place,” Audra says lightly as he goes. “No one looks too close.”

That certainly seems to be the case. After the same server drops off our sodas a minute later, we’re left entirely undisturbed.

“So,” Ophelia says quietly. “You said you had some news?”

Audra nods. “I spoke to Devin. He’s interested in talking on the record.”

“I feel like there’s abutin there somewhere,” Ophelia says.

“Buthe’s involved in all of this because Haverstad’s campaign manager paid him off. Enough money to cover his tuition, apparently.”

“It will be paid,” I interject.

Both Audra and Ophelia shoot me a look.

I just shrug. “A small price, all things considered.”

Ophelia shifts a little uncomfortably in her seat. “I doubt the Bureau would be able to finance that kind of—”

“I’ll pay it personally.”

A few seconds of incredulous silence pass as they both continue to stare at me.

“Really?” Audra asks. “Why?”

“I gave my word to Blair that I would do all in my power to help with this case, and paying one young man’s college tuition is certainly within my power.”

“Blair’s not at the Bureau anymore,” Audra points out.

“My promise still stands. And regardless, it also seems a small price to pay if it means getting Devin on record against Haverstad.”

Beneath the table, Ophelia’s fingers tighten slightly where they’re resting on my thigh. I’m not sure what to make of thetouch, or of the soft, searching look she gives me when I glance over at her. It only lasts a moment before she turns her attention back to Audra.

“You’ll let Devin know?”

Audra nods. “I will. Anything else notable happening on your end?”

We give her a brief rundown about both our conversations with Philippe, skipping some of the more salacious details, but including his staunch unwillingness to help and his insinuation that he knows something about the other two alleged victims.

Audra’s brow furrows. “I haven’t gotten very far with either, other than a hunch that one of them works for the advertising firm the campaign keeps on retainer. The other’s a mystery.”

“We’ll keep working on it,” Ophelia assures her.

After a few more minutes of hushed conversation and promises to keep each other updated on any new developments in the case, we go our separate ways.

Standing on the sidewalk outside the bar, I catch Ophelia’s hand in mine. She doesn’t pull away or seem to question it at all, squeezing back as she glances up and down the street.

“Now what?” she asks, body already radiating energy, eyes bright with that boundless drive she possesses.

“Now,” I say, drawing her closer. “We could go home and wait until we hear from Audra about Devin. I believe there are a few more secret places I could—”