by Nana Malone
She grinned. "All right mates? What are we talking about?"
Drew raised his glass. "We're talking about how we don't have a bloody thing."
I laughed. "We can't tie anybody to anything. But we can find out about the relationship between Leah, Warlow, and Theroux. There's got to be more history there."
Amelia shook her head. "Leah Braddock was never arrested. Even as an informant she was off book, because we can't find paperwork for her. Just a photo and her statements. But there is no actual paperwork making her an official confidential informant, so there are no records of her home, family, or background. Honestly, I don't know what your dad was even thinking."
I sighed. "And then we've got Marcus Van Linsted vouching for Henry Warlow as Walter Jameson. Why though? Did he know Warlow planned to assume his identity, and if so, why would he help him?"
East shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not, and we’ll likely never know because talking to Van Linsted, that's a nonstarter."
Amelia nodded. "He's in maximum security. We need a reason to get in there to talk to him."
I sighed. "Yeah, I know. So we still have a bunch of what-ifs. But one person we do have access to, or will rather, is Hazel."
East shook his head. "You mean not Hazel?"
Livy cleared her throat. "You can call her by her real name, Krista."
I wrinkled my nose. "Eh, I don't think I like Krista as a name."
Livy laughed. "What, is that a new game now? Rename the super villain?"
I laughed too. "It should be."
Drew leaned forward and grabbed for a piece of Manchego cheese. "Right, so we can't find Leah Braddock, we don't have a clue who else knows there was a switch made on that boat that day, and we have nothing tangible on not Hazel, or Krista, or whatever the fuck we're calling her. That about sum it up?"
I sighed. "No, we still have an ace to play. We can call Theroux. He'll at least fill in the blank of whether or not Krista is involved in his side of the game. And we can also ask him about Leah Braddock."
Lucas finally stopped typing on his laptop. "I have something for you if you want information before you talk to Theroux."
I lifted my brow, completely having forgotten that he was even here. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet. "Yeah? What do you have?"
"I was just doing a quick search, cross-referencing jobs, locations, access points, who accepted responsibility. There doesn’t appear to be a connection.”
I frowned. "Okay, so maybe she's aware of him. And then there's still the matter of that cuff link we found at Ryder Stone’s murder scene. We can make the assumption it belongs to Garreth, but we need more proof, don't we?"
Amelia nodded. "We do. All right, so I'll work on team Wilson. Figure out everything we can about her."
I nodded. "And I will call Theroux and see if I can get some information out of him. He might not be too thrilled about talking to me, but he's our only lead, and I can feel him out about Krista and Leah Braddock."
I glanced around, and it seemed that everyone was on board with that plan but Bryna looked worried. "I don't know. I want you to be careful, Nyla. Krista Wilson, unlike Theroux, has made it clear she's willing to shoot people, not to mention cutting out their tongues. And she almost kidnapped you, which means that she's getting bold and has no regard for human life. So you're going to need to be extra careful."
She was right. I was going to have to be extra careful. Because in the snap of my fingers, I could lose everything.
Nyla
Still nestled in bed, I moaned as East massaged the knots out of my shoulders.
It was amazing how one small revelation could change the whole course of your life, the whole outcome of how everything had been going.
Ever since that little Hazel-is-Krista revelation, things had been hopping at work. Which meant less time with East over the last few days. Well, more like less time on Theroux.
My father had it in his head that Lord Jameson was right and that Theroux had been out to steal precious art from him. I knew Jameson, aka Henry Warlow, was lying, but I couldn’t tell Dad for obvious reasons.
And so, we were chasing two cases. Even though as yet, we had no connections between the two, at least none we could prove legally. But since Lord Jameson had identified Theroux as the supposed thief, every agent in our office had a new prime directive. Which was problematic at best and worrisome at worst because another member of my team might bring in Theroux instead of me.
"Look, it's okay. You're just anxious."
I rolled my neck as East massaged me. "I'm not anxious. You don't understand. Everyone is looking for him now. Every single agent on record is looking for that man, and there's not a bloody thing I can do about it. I have to get to him first, so I have to do this."
He kissed my neck. "Does it help to say that I believe in you?"
"Sure, and… I guess, thank you."
He laughed. "All right. Look, no matter what happens, we're in this together. We’ve got this. I will protect you."
I turned in his arms and cupped his cheek. "And I will protect you. It’s just that I'm not sure how right now."
"Well, we'll figure it out when it comes down to it. Don't forget. I have friends in high places. Right now, you worry about what you have to worry about, okay?"
"Yeah. I have to go."
Thirty minutes later, blurry eyed, I walked into the office, and Amelia practically bounced up to me at security. "Don't even drop things off in your office. Meeting. The conference room. Now."
I sighed, swiping my badge through the card reader and then marching behind her.
"Shit,” I muttered. “I'm worried this is all going to come crashing down… you and me, the Theroux thing…"
She nodded. “We’re on the same page. Now you and I have competition.”
“Right? We have to watch our backs, because our colleagues are coming for us. Well, not for us, but they want our collar, and we've already put too much into this. So let's do what we need to do."
She nodded. "Yeah, I guess we will."
We crowded into the back of the conference room. Instead of being seated as usual, my father had taken a stance at the corner, glaring at all the agents, looking foreboding and formidable. But it was Denning who leaned across the table, glaring at us all in the eyes. "As you've all heard by now, my former fiancée, Hazel Frost, is actually Krista Wilson, a member of the Wilson Crew. She targeted me and used me to attempt to gain intel. We're doing an assessment at present on just how much intel she's had access to, but the damage has been done. She has hit us hard."
Amelia slid me a glance. We hadn't expected Denning to go full confession. What did this mean? I was quite unused to Denning taking any responsibility for anything and outright admitting he was wrong. It was as if the world had gone topsy-turvy.
He continued speaking. "We have two priorities. All other cases will be on the back burner. Priority one…" He glanced at my father then, and Dad's jaw ticked. "Is finding Krista Wilson. Rumor is, she's after the Thomas Ackerman piece her crew lost in Monaco and that she's got a buyer for it. Given the ledgers that we found in the car park, we have an advantage. We’ve located the piece, which is in the Royal Museum of Monaco. And we need to warn the curators. Now all we have to do is lay in wait for her. We will be ready. We will be vigilant."
Monaco. That meant East might take part in this too. I slid my gaze to my father, but he wouldn't look at me. Was he angry with me?
Stop being a needy twit. He's got bigger fish to fry. One of our senior officers had been infiltrated. How much information had he given her? That was the true issue here. And until we could answer that question, we all had a problem.
Then Denning stood. "Our second priority is Francois Theroux. We have evidence that he was at the Jameson Estate on the night that Agent Kincade was shot."
I frowned then raised my hand. "With all due respect sir, what proof do we have? Do we have any video? Do we have anything to prove it was him?"
; Denning frowned at me, but there was no retort to my question, no frown of annoyance. None of that. He just looked displeased.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
"There was physical evidence found in the vault. It was him."
Amelia pinched me under the table. She knew he was lying. Either that, or Jameson had planted evidence which another agent later found. Fucking hell.
My father still said nothing. When the meeting was over, we had our assignments. I raised my hand. “Regarding the piece in Monaco, I can speak to the curator, AJ Hale. I have already interviewed her in relation to the original case. If Wilson is headed there, we might beat her to it."
For the first time ever, Denning looked like he might be, if not pleased, at least not hating me. I looked at my father, and his gaze pinned me intensively. "Don't just contact her by phone. We're going to Monaco."
I stared at him. "We, sir?"
"Yes, I will accompany you. It seems that I need to keep a closer eye on my agents, doesn't it?"
Denning said nothing. He shifted uncomfortably under my father’s glare though, looking every bit like a new pin on some kind of examination board. Wow, I had never seen my father this angry. Not even when I crashed his car when I was sixteen, driving home with my drunken boyfriend. He'd believed me when I said I wasn't drinking. But I had been dating a boy he'd told me very clearly to stay away from. So that was a point of contention. And still, he was angrier now than he'd been then.
A part of me wanted to gloat that I'd warned him about Denning, but I kept my mouth shut. All I did was nod in acquiescence that, yes, in fact, it seemed perfectly normal to travel with my father to Monaco.
When the meeting was dismissed, my father held me back. Amelia gave my hand a quick squeeze before she scooted out. When we were alone, Dad didn't move from his position. He just stayed against the wall.
"I don't think I need to tell you, Nyla, that you have played the situation to your advantage. No missteps, no mistakes, and you have goodwill. Not only were you correct about Agent Sinclair, but you were also instrumental in identifying who Krista Wilson was. So utilize your goodwill."
I met his gaze. "Dad… Sir," I adjusted. "I hear you. But I want the record to show that this isn't goodwill. This is the basics of me doing my job. The job I've done day in and day out for years. This isn't some lucky break I stumbled upon. I've always been like this. Usually, it pans out, thank God. But sometimes it doesn't. And let's not pretend I got lucky here. This took hard work, not only on my part, but on Amelia’s as well."
His glower remained, but he really had nothing to say, so I continued. "And I'm not going to point out to you that I tried to warn you, or anything like that, because I'm not petty. So don't do the both of us a disservice by suggesting that I would use the situation in any way to make things worse for Denning. Maybe you haven't noticed, but I have moved on from him. I came back, and I came ready to work, even though you made me eat crow to him before you’d let me do it. That's what I've done. Don't diminish what I've done by suggesting that I somehow got lucky or that I am somehow underperforming. Please acknowledge that I've worked hard and I'm not going to gloat over the situation. After all, we have thieves to catch."
I turned to leave, and his voice was low when he spoke. "You weren’t lucky. You’re well trained. I should know. After all, I trained you."
I laughed. "Of course. Please do take credit for my accomplishments."
He sighed. "That's not what I meant, Nyla. You've never been lucky. You have always been good. All I mean is that there are eyes on us now. Especially after I screwed up with Denning. Let's not squander the opportunity we have for you to shine. That's all I meant."
And then it was he who walked past me as I stood there frozen. It almost sounded like he was proud of me.
For once.
Chapter Fifteen
Nyla
It was easy enough to get Theroux to agree to a meeting that afternoon. After all, this was the information he'd been looking for, waiting for. Logistics were difficult, but I left it to East to finally come through with something that was going to work out.
Four floors down from the penthouse, with East's security crawling all over the floor, I stepped into the plush executive suite only to find that Theroux had beat me there.
"Agent Kincade."
"Theroux."
He gave me a slow, tugging grin that told me he found pleasure in my stubborn refusal to greet him with any sort of familiarity. "You're looking much improved from the last time I saw you."
"Yeah, well, that's what a little house arrest and tea will get you."
"Noted. Except for the house arrest part." His gaze met mine. "Tell me you have something for me, Agent Kincade."
"Funny you should ask. I do have some information for you. And I'm more than willing to share it with you, but I want to remind you of our deal first."
"Yes, yes, I promise, I will turn myself in."
"That's not exactly our deal. Our deal is I'm going to be the one to arrest you."
He grinned. "And how do you think you're going to do that unless I turn myself in?"
I actually hadn't thought about it. In my mind's eye, I’d pictured myself slapping cuffs on him, but how we got there was, well… unclear. I think there was a part of me that knew that he would attempt to run, to somehow finagle out of our deal.
What makes you think that there's honor amongst thieves?
"Oh relax, Agent Kincade. I'm not running, am I? Now, tell me what you know of Henry Warlow."
"Keep in mind we still have things to prove."
He waved me off. "I'm growing impatient, Agent Kincade."
I lifted a brow, folded my arms, and then waited, much like my previous schoolteachers had done when they would enter a room and we were all jabbering away. I stared him down.
He stared back. Finally, he chuckled softly and relented. "I'm sorry. I've just been looking for Henry Warlow for a long time."
I shook my head slightly. "See, that's the thing. I think you've known all along where Henry Warlow was."
He grinned. "Why would you say that?"
"For now, let’s call it a hunch. But before I tell you what I know, I need to ask you one thing; why, did you need us? You're certainly powerful enough that you could have found someone else to get you the confirmation you needed. Why me? Even better, why East?"
"Ah, the incomparable Mr. Hale. He's far less interesting to me than you are. Tell me, did you open that box I gave you?"
I swallowed hard. "Yes, and we'll get into the Leah Braddock bits of it all in a moment. Just tell me, why me?"
"Why not you? You were one of Interpol's best and brightest, a rising star, and let's face it, you're the daughter of Roger Kincade. And I have an ax to grind with him."
"My father is the only reason you selected me?"
He lifted a brow, his gaze steady but quizzical, as if he was waiting for me to say something or to ask something else. But I didn't. "Yes, who your father is heavily factored in my decision to select you. We had a score to settle. I can't do this forever, and if he's the same man I knew years ago, he won't have given you your due. So when I saw an opportunity to get payback on two men who ruined my life, I thought it would be excellent."
"And I won't be part of your revenge scheme?"
"Like it or not, you already are."
He had a point there. "Fair enough. We found evidence that Henry Warlow is Lord Walter Jameson. There was a boating accident thirty years ago, and he took over Lord Jameson's life after changing his appearance with extensive plastic surgery."
I waited for a reaction, but there wasn't one. He looked like he had expected all of this. "And what of Leah Braddock?"
"There's no record of her. We show her passport stamped leaving the UK, but we have nothing about her entering the States as she’d planned. Our best guess is that during her connection, someone met her at the airport with a passport and new visa. A new name, new identity, and full access to go
anywhere in the world she wanted."
He sighed. "Almost there."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you've almost figured out what I want you to figure out."
My brow furrowed. "Theroux, I'm not interested in any more of your games."
"Oh, I know. But you'll still play, won't you?"
"Are you giving me a choice?"
He chuckled. "No, not really. Okay, so Lord Walter Jameson. That certainly makes sense and tracks with what I've been following."
"Okay, if you've already been tracking this, why did you need us?"
"Well, one might have their suspicions, but one must always have confirmation."
"Fine. Whatever. Another question for you. Do you know a Krista Wilson?"
His brow snapped down. "Mark Wilson's sister. Him and his crew were a nasty bunch. Isn't he serving a stretch?"
I nodded. "That he is. His sister, however, has proven to be a thorn in our side. She made an attempt… Well, East thinks it was an attempt to kidnap me, but I cannot confirm or deny that."
Theroux's brows rose. "She attempted to kidnap you?"
I shrugged. "She ingratiated herself with me and my friends. Even got herself engaged to my ex-fiancé while posing as a graduate student."
"Ah, she's smart, that one. What better way to find out if Interpol is after you than to put yourself in the middle of Interpol? Stay away from her if you can."
I lifted a brow. "You almost sound concerned, Theroux."
He chuckled low. "Let's call it professional courtesy, not exactly concern. Because after all, why would a thief be concerned about the Interpol agent determined to put him away?"
“What do you know about Krista Wilson?”
“Why, does she say she knows me?"
I shook my head. "No. But she's been a thorn in our side for too damn long. Her style is similar to yours. But she’s far more lethal."
His brows furrowed. "I take it Mr. Hale has your security well in hand?"
I narrowed my gaze at him and realized his brows were furrowed and there were fine lines around his mouth. Oh yes, he was still as handsome as ever. But somehow in this moment he looked… angry? He certainly looked older. And there was some kind of emotion in his eyes. I didn't know him well enough to really identify what it was, but he didn't look pleased. "Yes, my security is well in hand, as evidenced by all the people on this floor of the hotel."