Scott’s argument was perfectly logical. Andre knew he was right. But still... “I can’t walk away from her. She’s totally alone, and she’s got a cop gunning for her.”
Although Andre had never found himself in her particular predicament, he did know exactly what it was like to be all alone in the world, and to feel as if the people who were supposed to help you had turned their backs. He’d gotten lucky, moving into the foster home with Cole and Marcos when he was nine. Before that, after his family had died, was a time he didn’t want to think about too much.
The abuse had been sporadic. He’d think everything was fine, and then out of the blue, his foster father would knock him down the stairs. He’d tried to get help, but the person he’d told hadn’t believed him, and he’d been too young to realize he should try again. Instead, he’d learned to be invisible.
Four years after he’d been put in that house, social services had gotten suspicious. They’d taken all the kids away, and Andre had been moved somewhere else. He’d expected the same thing, but instead, that very first day, Cole had somehow known what he’d been through. He’d told Andre that things would be different now, because he had a big brother to watch out for him.
The memories faded as Andre realized Scott had been saying something. “Sorry. What?”
There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line. “What can I do?”
“I was trying to keep you out of it. I don’t want to mess you up here.”
“Yeah, well, I should have realized earlier you avoided my question about whether you’d seen Juliette leave Quantico. I’m in it now. We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”
Andre smiled, knowing how lucky he’d been to have had Scott assigned as his partner. He’d gotten a whole new brother that day. “Thanks, man.”
“Just try not to get us both kicked off the team for this, okay?”
Scott’s tone was light, but Andre knew it was no joke. “We need to find the proof to connect her ex to the attempt on her life. And tomorrow, when I come in, I’ll bring Nadia’s weapon. I’ll say I found it in the parking lot. It will be kind of true.”
“You’re coming in tomorrow?” Scott asked. “What about Juliette?” He paused. “Or do I call her Mya?”
“Juliette.” Andre frowned. “Good point. I shouldn’t leave her by herself. I doubt Keane could track her to my place, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Keane? That’s his name?”
“Yeah. Dylan Keane. He’s a cop out of Pennsylvania. She saw him take a payoff connected to the murder of Kent Manning.”
Scott swore. “Okay, tomorrow I’ll go see my fiancée and my sister at WFO, then use it as an excuse to drop in on the case agents, try to whisper that name in their ears and see what pops.”
“I’m going to see what I can find from here.”
“Good luck. And, Andre?”
“Yeah?”
“Try not to fall for this woman.”
Too late. Instead of blurting his instant reaction, Andre replied, “I’ll do my best. Thanks for the help.”
Then he opened up his laptop. “All right, Dylan Keane. Time to dig up your skeletons.”
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