Cane's POV
The car moved smooth, like it was floating on air. I hated it. I liked to feel the road, to know I was moving. This felt like being in a fancy box. Armstrong was driving, his hands at ten and two, like always. He was a good man. Too good for the world we lived in.
My mind wasn't in the car, though. It was back in my office, with the report my man had finally dug up.
After she left, I had my men dig up more on it. I couldn't just trust her words now, would I? The mole she'd pointed me to wasn't some low-level rat. The trail went up, and up, and ended right at Constantine's door. That greedy bastard.
She'd planted a snake in my company and I had missed it for so long. I knew she was clever but how did she manage to hide it so well from me.
