Page 25 of Unlocked

He nodded and settled on the opposite chair, watching her over the rim of his coffee. Waiting.

He would get answers tonight. Gently, if possible. But time was pressing, and he had responsibilities that couldn't wait.

She set her cup down after finishing half of it, refilled it, then picked up the meringue and took a bite.

"Oh," she said, her eyes closing briefly. "This is delicious. Please extend my compliments to Pierre."

Archer inclined his head in acknowledgment. He waited. She was stalling. He could see it in the way she took another bite and savored it longer than necessary. The way she wouldn't quite meet his eyes.

She glanced up at him, then looked away.

Tatum leaned forward, set the meringue back on the coffee table, and picked up her tea again. "The truth is, Archer, I'm not sure what I know."

His stomach knotted. "Seriously?" He couldn't quite keep the edge out of his voice. "I'm sensing a but…"

She gave a brief, humorless nod. "Yes. There's a but."

She wrapped both hands around the cup as if drawing warmth from it. "I feel like there's more to the Granite Industries Ponzi scheme than what came out in the press."

The knot tightened. It was exactly what he'd suspected all along. Something about the whole thing had never sat right with him. The players. The execution. The sheer scope of it.

"Explain," he said quietly.

Tatum sipped her tea, then set the cup carefully back on its saucer. "Okay. Here it is; no doubt Vince Kelly, Richard North, and Tim Lebowitz are the front men of the operation. They're out there shaking hands, making deals, being seen. But they're not the brains behind it."

She met his gaze, unwavering now. The firelight caught in her eyes, turning them amber. "None of them are smart enough to have come up with this, let alone execute it and keep it running as long as they did."

She shook her head. "Four years, Archer. Four years of working the top tiers of New York and other cities across the globe before they got caught. I just don't see it."

Archer took a sip of coffee, buying himself a moment. She was right. She was absolutely right, and it irritated him that he hadn't pushed harder to confirm it earlier.

"You're right," he finally said. "It wasn't them." He said it with the conviction he felt in his marrow.

Her eyes locked onto his. "Was it you?"

One eyebrow lifted. "I'm trying very hard not to be insulted by that."

"You could take it as a compliment," she said lightly, but there was steel underneath. She was testing him. "I certainly think you're smart enough to be the brain behind it."

A corner of his mouth curved despite himself. "All right. Let's take it that way, then."

He sobered. "But no. I agree with you because you're right. None of them was capable of pulling this off. You've taken their measure correctly. They were not the brains behind the scheme."

He leaned back slightly, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I always suspected as much. It's one of the reasons I never invested with them. Technically, I could have invested Society funds. I'm always looking for viable opportunities, but what they were selling was never real. I knew it the moment they opened their mouths."

"Then why didn't you do something?" Tatum demanded, her voice sharp.

Archer exhaled slowly and swallowed another sip of coffee. "It wasn't my role," he said finally. "And because they're members, I can't go around accusing them without proof. The only way to get proof would have been to get inside, and if I'd done that and confirmed my suspicions, it would have put me in an impossible position."

She didn't look convinced. Her jaw was tight, her eyes narrowed.

"My job," he continued, "is to remain neutral. To provide a place where members can conduct their business, whatever that may be, as long as they don't directly harm other members."

He held up a hand before she could interrupt. "And before you accuse me of picking sides, harm is a subjective term. Many of the people who lost money to these men could afford to lose it. In some cases, frankly, I thought they should."

Her jaw tightened further, and he could see anger simmering beneath the surface.

"I do feel genuine sympathy for those they preyed on," he added, his voice quieter. "People who didn't have money to lose. But to be brutally honest, they were not my primary concern."