“You can’t tell,” Tori warned, finally finding her courage once more. “Whatever it is you think you know, you can’t say a word.”

Alice’s lips formed another of those sad smiles. “Don’t worry. I would never tell anyone. You can trust me. I won’t let you down. Whatever you decide, I will never tell. No one ever has to know the whole truth. Unless . . .”

Tori blinked. “Unless what?”

Alice leaned closer. “Unless Sarah already told them.”

“I’m telling you,” Tori argued, “even if she knows, she wouldn’t do that. We’ve been best friends too long.”

“She told me before that night.”

The words stabbed deep into Tori’s chest. This wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be sure Sarah even knew. They had never talked about it. Alice could be lying . . . she could be trying to make Tori say something she didn’t want to say. “I don’t believe you.”

“How do you think I knew? That night—when it happened—you didn’t notice I wasn’t shocked?”

Tori couldn’t remember. What was she talking about? Fear pounded in her veins.

“You have to decide, Tori.” Alice glanced toward the door; her breath caught.

Tori followed her gaze. Sarah closed the library door behind her and started toward their table. The thrashing in Tori’s chest seemed to rise into her throat.

“You have to decide,” Alice repeated. “Either tell the whole truth and face the consequences or . . .”

Tori’s gaze collided with hers once more. “Or?”

“Or take yourself out of the narrative. That’s the simplest solution.”

12

4:15 p.m.

Birmingham Police Department

First Avenue North

The task force meeting started off exactly the way Kerri had imagined it would. Mason Cross and his team were lead. The DEA had been investigating the Osorio cartel throughout its steady surge into power—for nearly a decade. More recently, local agents had been following a newly discovered connection in Birmingham upon which Asher Walsh seemed to have stumbled. How Kurtz came to be involved was unknown at this time.

This new connection could lead them to the main artery pumping drugs through the Southeast. It was immensely important that no one got in the way.

Like the BPD.

Kerri and Falco were to continue their pursuit for any information about Leo Kurtz and how he and Walsh connected. At this time, other than dying together, there was no proof the two men were involved whatsoever. Agent Cross even went so far as to suggest the execution of Kurtz was nothing more than staging to throw the DEA off track. At any rate, for Kerri and Falco it was hands off where Walsh was concerned.

Funny, Kerri decided. If the DEA had been following the movements of the cartel as their stronghold in the Southeast increased, why didn’t they know more about the takeover in Birmingham? The transition of power from Atlanta to Birmingham? These were things, apparently, that Walsh had learned in his short time in Birmingham. The details weren’t quite adding up in Kerri’s opinion. The DEA’s primary focus was drugs. They should have been on top of this rampant spread of the Osorio criminal organization throughout the Birmingham area.

Then again, it was certainly possible that the DEA knew far more than it was sharing. In fact, it was entirely likely.

Cross stood at the front of the conference room, that military bearing of his exuding power and confidence. He spoke as if he had the whole situation sized up and the perfect operational plan nailed down and already well underway.

Ultimately, for Kerri, the burning bottom-line question was, How could the upper echelon of the BPD not have been aware of any sort of ongoing operation?

Even with a black op—one completely undercover—certain powers that be were made aware. The mayor may or may not have been briefed. But the chief of police would have known. He may not have been aware of all the dirty details, but he would have been provided a vague overall snapshot of the situation. It was the only way to prevent agencies and departments from stumbling over and into each other.

Based on how curiously quiet the chief had been so far, he’d been as in the dark as anyone else on this. Kerri had never seen him so subdued during a major briefing.

As if she’d said the words out loud, Falco glanced at her. She and Falco understood something was off with this situation, and it was a hell of a lot more than mere territorial issues.

Kerri surveyed the others present. If Sadie Cross was telling the truth and Asher Walsh had thought someone in a position of power in Birmingham was involved with the cartel, then it could be someone in this room at this very moment. Special Agent in Charge Cross, the chief, and the LT—Brooks looked over his shoulder at her as if he, too, was aware of precisely what she was thinking. Maybe she was just too easy to read. The mayor sat next to DA Lockett. Seated behind the Jefferson County sheriff were three other DEA agents. Any one of these people could be wearing that mask Sadie had mentioned.

Kerri’s attention shifted back to the mayor. Emma Warren was sixty. Attractive. Long dark hair that lay in waves around her shoulders. Being married to one of the wealthiest financial geniuses in the Southeast allowed her to wear a high-end designer wardrobe and live in a multimillion-dollar mansion. Warren donated her salary as the mayor to support a brand-new endeavor: the Women of the Future mentoring program. Three students, grades seven through nine, were chosen in January each year for the program. Mayor Warren would mentor one, while two other prestigious and powerful women of Birmingham would mentor the other two.

It was an exemplary program, and frankly Kerri had no reason not to like the woman beyond her public decision to ensure a task force investigated this case rather than merely the BPD. Kerri supposed she should be grateful the investigation into the murder of a high-profile citizen wasn’t on her and Falco.

Except she wasn’t.

Agent Cross continued to drone on about the terrifying statistics of drugs and human trafficking and how the cartels were the main drive behind those ugly crimes. Kerri attempted to stay on task, but her thoughts drifted to her daughter and Brighton Academy. She’d sent a text to Tori at lunch and asked how her day was going. Her daughter’s response had been a thumbs-up. Kerri hoped that was the case, but she knew too well how these things went. Rumors would be rampant. Fingers pointed. Accusations thrown about.