Duncan swiped a hand over his sweaty upper lip. “Felix is like a squirrel, you know? Always scurrying around, picking up little nuggets here and there. Storing them away for winter…or a payday. He is…fuck. He was a likable guy for a dirt bag. A real charmer. He was like Kevin Bacon on the streets. Everyone either knew him or knew a guy who knew him. If you needed intel, he could usually dig it up.”
“Who did he work with? Who were his friends?” I asked.
“Like I said, everyone knew him. Everyone liked him.”
“Then who was he closest to? Maybe someone outside the game?” Nolan prompted.
Duncan tipped his head to the ceiling. “I don’t fucking know. Maybe his girl?”
“He had a woman?” I asked. Nolan and I shared a glance. This was news.
“One he paid for, if that counts. I saw him once having lunch with her. Real high-class. Way too good for him.”
“What was her name?” I asked.
He took a drag and blew out a cloud of smoke that swirled lazily between us. “Maureen Fitzgerald.”
I sat back in my seat.
Duncan’s smirk was back. “Huh. Maybe you’re a client too? Isn’t that a small, incestuous world?”
“Prisons give me the heebie-jeebies,” Nolan announced when we hit the parking lot, the barbed wire and block walls behind us. “Every time I walk in, I’m worried they aren’t gonna let me walk out.”
I grunted and continued toward my car.
“Was it my imagination in there, or did that ginger asshole insinuate that you were acquainted with Maureen Fitzgerald, DC’s highest caliber madam?” Nolan wondered.
I yanked open the door of my Jaguar and grabbed my phone.
“It wasn’t your imagination, and I am acquainted with Maureen,” I said, thumbs flying across the screen.
Me: We need to talk. Call me.
“Huh. Didn’t think a guy like you would have to buy a date. Makes me feel pretty damn good about myself.”
The phone vibrated in my hand. But it wasn’t Maureen. It was Special Agent Idler.
I swore under my breath, ignored the call, and slid behind the wheel. I never should have allowed Nolan to tag along. I needed to think, to plot. I didn’t want the feds talking to Maureen before I did.
“Get in,” I ordered.
“Hey, listen, you’re the boss. You don’t have to tell me anything as long as you keep paying me,” Nolan said as he climbed into the passenger seat.
I waited until both doors were closed. “Maureen is a friend. She feeds me information on some of her more depraved client requests. I use that information as I see fit.”
“And you don’t want to give the feds a reason to look directly at her,” Nolan guessed, securing his seat belt.
I nodded and started the engine.
“Seems kinda odd. Maureen Fitzgerald associating with a Felix Metzer type?” he mused. “I’ve seen her in person a few times. Gorgeous lady. Classy. Rich.”
It wasn’t just odd. It was completely implausible.
My phone vibrated again, and I fantasized about tossing it out the window and backing over it but managed to refrain.
A glance at the screen told me it wasn’t Idler.
Karen: Tonight we will be dining on the finest frozen pizza and a reasonably okay-ish bottle of wine.
Fuck. I’d nearly forgotten.
“Big plans tonight?” Nolan asked.
“What?” I looked up, intending to glare him into silence.
He nodded at the screen in the dashboard where Karen’s text was on display. Damn Bluetooth.
Another call from Idler appeared on the screen.
“You look like you’re about to rip the wheel out of the steering column,” Nolan observed mildly.
I gave him another cold glare.
“Okay, fine. You don’t look like it, but that’s the vibe you’re putting off. I’m observant as fuck. Don’t hate me.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted stiffly.
“Here’s what I’m thinking. You try to get a hold of your ‘business associate’ Maureen and keep your dinner plans. My bride is working late tonight prepping with her team for some big meeting tomorrow morning. Why don’t you let me handle updating Idler?”
I opened my mouth to give him a litany of reasons why that wouldn’t be happening, but he pressed on.
“I’ll keep the madam out of it for now and stick to the sweet little shell company your team of hackers untangled fifteen minutes ago.”
“What shell company?” I demanded. “And for legal reasons, you can’t call them hackers.”
“The one digital security specialist Prairie texted me about.”
“Why didn’t she contact me directly?”
“Because you’re a scary motherfucker, man. No one actually likes talking to you. You make small talk feel like a root canal without anesthesia.”
“I do not,” I argued, feeling surly.
“Karen is Sloane’s mom, isn’t she?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“There are certain jobs you’re uniquely suited for. Looking a politician in the eyes while you destroy his career. Forking over a few million when the situation calls for it. Calling the woman who runs the highest-priced call girl ring in the metro area. And visiting your friend while she’s mourning her husband. I’ve got the rest of it covered.”
I blew out a breath. “You aren’t completely worthless as an employee.”
“Thanks, boss. Those gold stars you’re handing out get me right here,” he said, thumping his chest.
My phone rang again. This time it was Petula. “What?” I snapped after hitting the Answer button on the console.
Nolan looked at me pointedly. I rolled my eyes.
“Hello, Petula. What can I do for you?” I said with exaggerated politeness.
“Are you all right, sir? Are you under duress? I can have a security team to your location in minutes.”
“I’m fine,” I said dryly.
“Don’t worry, Petula. I won’t let anything happen to the boss man,” Nolan announced.
“I’m delighted to hear that,” she said dryly. “However, we have a problem.”
“What is it?” I demanded, my mind still focused on Duncan, Felix, and now Maureen.
“When Holly went out to pick up lunch, she was chased by two men in a black Chevy Tahoe.”
I accelerated out of the parking lot.
“Is she all right?” Nolan asked.
His hand closed covertly over the door handle as the car fishtailed onto the road.
“She’s fine. A little shaken up. But her car wasn’t so lucky,” Petula reported. “She got a partial license plate.”
“Run it,” I said curtly. “We’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Black Tahoe sittin’ all by her lonesome,” Nolan reported. He handed me his binoculars.
I frowned. “Where did you get those?”
“Never leave home without binoculars, a pocket knife, and snacks,” he said sagely. “Want some beef jerky?”
“What I want is payback,” I muttered, peering through the binoculars and spotting the SUV in the parking lot of the luxury condo building.
The vehicle was registered to one of Hugo’s corporations. According to the mortgage on the three-bedroom Alexandria condo, it was owned by one of Hugo’s enforcers.
“Did you tell security to—”
“Deliver the company Escalade to Holly’s place?” Nolan said. “Yeah. Lina and Petula are going along to make sure the kid isn’t still freaked out. Hell of an upgrade over a twelve-year-old sedan with primer-gray trunk.”
I handed the binoculars back to him and said nothing.
It was the least I could do.
I’d been prepared for Hugo’s escalation, but I’d been anticipating him escalating things with me, not an employee on a salad run. He’d sent a message, made an example. I’d overestimated his sense of fair play, and one of my people paid the price. It wouldn’t happen again.
“Stay here,” I ordered and opened the van door.
I’d borrowed a cargo van from the security team. It was my turn to send a message.
“Sorry, boss. No can do,” Nolan slipped out the passenger door. He pulled a black wool cap out of his coat pocket and yanked it down over his head.
“I’m about to break half a dozen laws,” I warned before rounding the back of the vehicle.
“And here I thought you’d have minions for that,” Nolan said, opening the cargo doors.
I grabbed the sledgehammer. “Sometimes it’s better to get your own hands dirty. And by that I mean my hands, not yours.”
He picked up the six-foot coil of material off the van floor. “Can’t let you have all the fun. Besides, if we get caught, your scary lawyers will have me out before my ass touches a holding cell bench.”
I was oddly touched.