Page 127 of Things We Left Behind

“Understand what?”

“Felix is…or was family. We were cousins in what feels like a past life. We grew up together. I went my way, he went his. But we stayed in touch, met up on occasion. Never anywhere that someone would recognize me, of course. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Except someone had recognized her, and now Maureen was my only lead.

“Did Felix ever talk to you about work?”

“We thought it best not to discuss our professions. Plausible deniability and all that.”

“But you would have looked out for him. You would have had an idea of the company he was keeping,” I pressed. Maureen was a caretaker at heart and a guard dog when necessary.

“Why are you focusing on Felix and not Hugo? Lord knows that man has broken enough laws to earn a few lifetime sentences in prison.”

“Someone who wasn’t Hugo put my friend’s name on that list for reasons I want to know. That person needs to pay.”

“Sounds like someone had a vendetta against your friend.”

“I need to know who.” Even if Anthony Hugo finally went down for his crimes, there was still someone out there who thought of Nash Morgan as a threat. And I wouldn’t rest until I had them.

Maureen studied her pale-­pink nails. “As I said, we didn’t discuss business.”

“That’s never stopped you from acquiring information before.”

She inhaled deeply. “Fine. Not all of Felix’s friends were onthe wrong side of the law. Some of them at least worked on the right side.”

“A cop?” I asked.

“There was a gentleman—­and I use that term loosely.” She glanced at her discreet Cartier timepiece. “He showed up at a family backyard cookout this summer. I wasn’t there, of course. My aunt mentioned that Felix’s cop acquaintance made quite the little show of introducing himself around as Felix’s ‘old friend.’ It rattled my cousin, which was not an easy thing to accomplish.”

“So you looked into him?”

“Someone gets that close to my family, and I will do what’s necessary.”

“Name,” I demanded.

She lifted her slim shoulders. “It won’t do you any good in this case. Seeing as the man was shot and killed after an abduction gone wrong last year.”

I swore under my breath. “Tate Dilton.”

“Very good,” Maureen said, impressed.

I shoved a hand through my hair. Did it really all lead back to him? Did all these loose ends tie up with Dilton’s corpse?

The man had a grudge against Nash for taking Ogden’s position as chief of police. But Dilton had been the triggerman the night Nash was shot. Why would he have put Nash on an elimination list—­a coward’s move—­if he was going to be the one to shoot him anyway?

“According to my digging, he wasn’t the brightest crooked cop on the payroll,” Maureen said. “I warned Felix to stay away from him. But he obviously didn’t listen.”

If this was true, I’d wasted the last weeks chasing down a fucking ghost.

“I see this news isn’t exactly welcome,” she noted. “But I’m afraid I don’t have time to stick around to find out why. I have a previous engagement.”

“I’m sorry for cutting your trip short,” I said gruffly, walking her to the door.

She gave me a peck on the cheek. “Time spent with you is never wasted, Lucian. But you do owe me a very nice gift. I’m thinking something from Hermès.”

My lips twitched. Maureen had a maternal fondness for me.

We said our goodbyes, and Maureen left through the private elevator to the parking garage.