Bowie: The Sinner Saints #5

by Adrienne Bell

  Charlie let out a sharp breath. She didn’t need Mason to tell her. She already knew. If she were honest with herself she’d known who was responsible from the moment she’d looked down at the poor man’s obituary. There was only one person this was going to lead back to.

  “Trevor Bishop,” she said.

  Mason nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she said. “He’s always been a prick. I’m just angry with myself for not realizing sooner that he was a homicidal prick.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” Bowie said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “There’s no way you could have known about his involvement.”

  “Maybe not.” Charlie opened her eyes and lifted her chin. “But now that I know, there’s no way I can allow him to roam around a free man. We need to get this information to the authorities.”

  Mason shot her an apologetic look. “I don’t think we have enough to put him away.”

  Charlie pushed away from Bowie’s chest. “What do you mean? Look at all these boxes. We have to have something.”

  “And we’re going to take another look just to be sure,” Mason assured her. “But I’m not holding out much hope that we’ll find anything Earth shattering. Right now, all we have is a single memo. A four-year-old list of names. We all know what it means, but without some kind of official documentation to back it up…”

  “We’ve got nothing,” she finished for him. Charlie drew in a deep breath and propped her arms up on the desk in front of her. “All right then, what do we need and where can we get it?”

  Carter and Mason shared a look. She didn’t need them to say a word to know what they were thinking. Two ex-special forces officers and they were silently arguing which one had to break the hard truth to her.

  Mason apparently lost.

  “Well, Darktide might be able to purge their own personnel files,” he said. “They might even be able to corrupt the DOD. But they don’t have control over the State Department.”

  The State Department.

  Shit.

  Charlie let her head flop down between her shoulders. Hacking into the State Department was out of the question. It wasn’t just a thousand different kinds of illegal. It was impossible…and Mason knew it.

  “That means someone will have to go into the Truman Building in D.C. and break into the Bureau of Administration. From there they should be able to retrieve the files manually,” she said.

  “Absolutely not,” Carter said with a shake of his head. “It’s far too dangerous.”

  “Well…” a small voice said. Sara stepped closer, her lips pursed together in thought. “Maybe not.”

  “No,” Mason practically shouted. “There’s no way in hell I’d let Carter send you off to commit several felonies.”

  “Actually, I wasn’t thinking about me,” Sara said, coming up to Mason’s side. She wrapped her arm around his and looked up into his eyes.

  “Who then?” Charlie asked, but Mason didn’t answer. He was too busy shaking his head.

  “You can’t be serious,” he said.

  “Why not?” Sara asked, her smile growing wider with every passing second. “He’s a damn good thief. He knows ways to bypass security systems that even I haven’t been able to figure out. He’s not associated with Macmillan in any way. And you know he’d be willing.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Carter demanded.

  “The maniac that stole the Evening Star.” Mason gave a defeated sigh.

  “The guy who got to it before you?” Charlie said.

  “He’s perfect for a job like this.” Sara looked so excited that she couldn’t hold on to Mason any longer. “He slipped past every camera and motion detector in the museum. He didn’t leave behind a single piece of evidence. No one even knew he’d been there until he was eight blocks away with the necklace in his pocket.”

  “But the San Francisco Museum of Fine Art is not the State Department,” Mason tried.

  Sara waved him off. Her head whipped back and forth between Charlie and Carter, as if they were the only two people she had to convince. “I’m telling you, he’s our guy.”

  “Can we trust him?” Carter asked.

  “I’ve never known him not to be good to his word.” Sara nodded. “If he says he’ll do something, he’ll do it.”

  Carter turned his gaze toward Charlie.

  “There’s no harm in talking to the guy,” she said with a shrug.

  Mason raised a hand to his temple. “That’s what you think now.”

  “Do you know where to find him?” Carter asked.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to be a problem,” Mason said with another exasperated sigh. “He moved into my building three weeks ago.”

  “All right. Mason, call him in for an interview,” Carter said with a low laugh. “And while he does that, Charlie can get to work vetting him.”

  “Sure thing,” she said with a nod. She turned toward Sara. “What’s this guy’s name?”

  “James,” Sara said.

  Charlie widened her eyes, waiting for more. It didn’t come. “James what?” she finally asked.

  “That’s it,” Sara said. “Just James.”

  Charlie pursed her lips. “A first name? That’s all you have? How do you expect me to find out anything about him?”

  “Oh, there’s nothing to find,” Sara said. Charlie didn’t think it was possible, but somehow Sara’s smile grew even wider. “Trust me. I’ve looked.”

  Chapter Six

  Charlie was on the verge of giving up.

  All right, maybe not giving up. She’d never quit on anything in her life and she wasn’t about to start now. But she was on the verge of doing something stupid…like going to the break room vending machine and drowning her frustrations in another bag of chips.

  Instead, she drew in a deep breath and rolled her head back as she let it out.

  “There has to be something,” she groaned. “For God’s sake, everyone leaves behind an electronic trail.”

  “Not everyone,” Bowie said from his post by her open door.

  He’d been there for hours now, just staring into the office. She’d tried a couple times to get him to come inside and sit down, but he’d refused. It seemed he was taking this protection gig seriously. Way too seriously.

  “Yes, everyone,” she said. She rolled her shoulders to get the kinks out before focusing her attention back on the screen in front of her. “But this James guy. He’s a ghost. I can’t even track down his last name.”

  “Mason said he’d bought a place in his building,” Bowie said. “Shouldn’t his name be all over that paperwork?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Charlie said. “It should. But it’s not.”

  Bowie turned his head her way. “How is that possible?”

  “Everything official was handled through some shell company,” she said. “This guy’s name only pops up once, and even then it’s just like Sara said. He’s just James. No last name. No tax id. Nothing traceable.”

  The corners of Bowie’s mouth turned down in a harsh frown. “I don’t like it.”

  Charlie stroked her chin. She wasn’t so quick to judge. Sure, she already knew this guy was a thief. A hell of a good one too, going by Sara’s story. Maybe the best.

  But thieves usually traded on their names and reputations. And as far as Charlie could tell, this guy had neither.

  So who was he? What was he?

  A mystery, that’s what. A puzzle to figure out.

  And everyone knew how much she loved puzzles.

  Charlie had just placed her hands on her keyboard when Bowie’s attention snapped toward the main office floor.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I think your ghost has finally arrived,” Bowie said. He pulled his shoulders back as he lifted his chin, making himself look even larger than usual. It was a move he usually did when he wanted to turn up the intimidation factor. God knew, it was effective.

  Charlie jumped up from her chair an
d rushed over to the door. She had to squeeze between Bowie’s puffed out chest and the doorjamb just to get a good view. But when she did the air practically rushed from her lungs.

  “That’s Sara’s shady friend?” she said, doing her best to keep her voice low.

  The man was…well, the man wasn’t the kind of person that should have been able to fly under anyone’s radar. His features—the angle of his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw—were all undeniably masculine, yet at the same time, remarkably elegant. It was almost as if someone had sculpted his face by hand. He was almost too perfect…if such a thing were possible.

  “He doesn’t look like much to me,” Bowie said. Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie caught him lifting his chin, making himself even taller.

  Sure, the guy obviously didn’t have the physical strength or presence of Bowie. But who did? Charlie had yet to meet a man on Earth who didn’t pale in comparison to her Bowie.

  But if ever there was a guy who looked like he might come close…

  Charlie straightened as Sara led her mystery thief to the doorway. Her brows pulled together when Bowie slipped a hand over her shoulder.

  What in the world was that about? Too bad there was no time to ask. Sara had already started introductions.

  “James, I’d like you to meet Charlie Keswick,” she said. “Charlie, this is—”

  “Sara’s shady friend,” the man finished for her with a grin.

  Charlie’s mouth fell open, half in mortification, and half in shock. She could feel her blush burning all the way down to her toes.

  “You heard that?” she asked.

  The man’s crystal clear blue eyes sparkled in the overhead lights. “Please don’t be embarrassed. Your description is apt.”

  He extended his hand toward Charlie, holding his body in a practiced casual way that made her instantly relax even though he’d just called her out for being a total ass.

  For a moment, Charlie just stood there, shaking his hand, her jaw hanging open, staring at the man like a total idiot. It wasn’t her fault. There was a lot to take in. He was tall and slim, yet solid. He was ridiculously handsome. Then there was that accent.

  Charlie couldn’t quite place it. Not quite English, not Scottish either. Her mind spun trying to pin it down.

  Bowie, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be having the same trouble.

  He cleared his throat and Charlie came to her senses. With a shaky smile, she pulled her hand back.

  “So, you’re James,” Bowie said, his voice even growlier than usual.

  The man lifted his gaze. His smile didn’t exactly falter, but it didn’t widen either as he met Bowie’s stare.

  “And you must be Bowie,” James said. “Sara has told me all about you.”

  “Has she?” he asked flatly. “Because she hasn’t been able to tell us much about you.”

  “That would be because she doesn’t know much,” James admitted.

  “And why’s that?” Bowie asked.

  James’ shoulders rose as he drew in a breath. “I couldn’t very well remain shady if I let people in on my secrets, could I?”

  “Even your last name?” Bowie asked.

  “Especially my last name.”

  “Then how can you expect us to trust you?”

  Bowie removed his hand from Charlie’s shoulder, and crossed his arms. It was another power move—one that made his biceps practically pop right out of his shirt. He tilted his head. Usually that glower made grown men run for the hills.

  But Charlie had to give this James guy credit. Not only did he not budge, but his amused grin actually grew.

  “Because the way Sara tells it, you’re desperate,” James said smoothly. “And desperate situations are what I do best.”

  “Maybe we should talk about this inside my office,” Charlie said when she noticed that more than a couple of heads were turning their way. The last thing she needed was more office gossip…or betting pools starting up.

  “That’s probably a good idea,” Sara agreed.

  Charlie made room for the pair to enter, but Bowie didn’t budge. She had to grab his arm and practically tug him inside to get him to move even a couple of inches.

  “My thanks,” James said with a wink as he entered. A little shiver ran up and down Charlie’s spine.

  Charmed. That’s what she was. Actually, charmed.

  Well, she had to give Sara credit. She was certainly right about this guy. He was…something.

  Though how a face like that had managed to go a lifetime without ending up all over the Internet was a total mystery.

  A mystery for another day. Right now, she had more important problems. Like getting a highly classified file out of a heavily guarded building.

  She took in a deep breath after closing her door. She turned around and headed straight for her desk as the others took a seat in the chairs across from her. All except Bowie. He stood against the wall, two steps from the door, arms crossed, glower firmly in place.

  “So, I take it Sara’s explained exactly what we’re looking for,” Charlie said as she sat down in her chair.

  James nodded. “She has.”

  “And did she fill you in on all the details?” she asked. “The tight timeline? The security you’ll be facing? The computers you’ll need to access?”

  “Yes,” James said with a slight smile. “She was very thorough.”

  Charlie arched her brows, waiting for more. A couple seconds later, it still hadn’t arrived.

  Fine.

  “And?” she prompted.

  “And what?” he asked with a far too innocent smile.

  “Can you do it?” Charlie asked. “Can you get into the Truman Building and download the file we need without being seen?”

  “Of course, I can,” he said without hesitation. “Easily.”

  “You’re sure?” Charlie narrowed her eyes. That was a quick answer. Too quick.

  “Positive,” he said. “But that’s not what you really want to know.”

  “It isn’t?” Charlie asked, quirking a brow.

  “No,” Bowie said. His big voice filled the room. “The thief is trying to negotiate. He wants to know if we’ll pay his price.”

  James looked over his shoulder and gave Bowie a begrudging nod of approval.

  “In a manner of speaking,” he said. “After all, terms are the interesting part.”

  “I don’t know,” Charlie said with a shrug. “I’m pretty sure the interesting part is the story behind your accent. Where’s it from? Wales? Australia?”

  “Neither. You’ve never heard it before,” he said, giving her a knowing smile as he sidestepped her question.

  Damn it.

  “Iceland?” she tried again.

  “You’re never going to guess it. I promise.” His blue eyes glimmered as he leaned forward in his chair.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Charlie said, willing to put it aside for now. “But go ahead, tell me how much money you want.”

  James gave a little laugh. “Oh, I’m not interested in money.”

  Charlie’s brows shot up. “You’re not?”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “Then what are you after?” Bowie asked.

  James met her gaze for a long moment. Then suddenly his eyes narrowed just a touch, and, for a brief second, Charlie caught a glimpse of the real man behind the charming facade—a man that was more than a little dangerous and every bit as desperate as he accused her of being.

  “Sara tells me that you’re very good with computers,” he said.

  “Not very good,” Charlie said. “The best.”

  James smiled again. It seemed he appreciated her lack of modesty.

  “It’s true,” Sara backed her up.

  “Do you think if I gave you a list of people that you’d be able to track them down?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said. “I’ve done it plenty of times.”

  “But what if the people
I asked you to find were like me?” James inched forward until he was perched on the edge of his seat. “What if they were shady and didn’t want to be found.”

  “No one is completely invisible. Everyone leaves behind a trail,” she said. “It might take me some time but eventually I’d find them.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked. “Even if they’re scattered all over the globe? You’re certain you could find them.”

  “Positive,” she said. “But now you’re the one that’s forgetting something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Just because I’m able to do something doesn’t mean that I will,” she said, sitting up straight in her chair. “Before I go around trying to dig up a bunch of strangers for you, I need to know what you want with them.”

  James narrowed his eyes. A strange intensity shined through, and despite her best intentions, Charlie pushed back into her chair.

  “I can’t tell you that,” he said.

  Charlie nodded. She glanced up at Bowie. His frown was turning more severe by the second. She guessed she had about half a minute before he grabbed James by the scruff of the neck and physically tossed him out of her office, leaving her high and dry.

  Maybe, she could soften her stance just a little.

  “I understand. Your business is your own. I don’t need the specifics,” she said, daring to push closer again. “What I want is some assurance that you’re not using me as an accomplice to harm these people or anyone else.”

  The corners of James’ eyes relaxed. “I swear it. I don’t mean these men any harm.”

  “He’s good to his word, Charlie,” Sara said. “He’s saved my ass a couple of times.”

  Charlie let out a long breath. It sounded like he was telling the truth. Good thing too. She had no idea what she would have done if he’d refused to answer.

  “I still don’t trust him,” Bowie grumbled.

  Well, that wasn’t unusual. Bowie always thought the worst of everyone. It was a miracle the man trusted her. Still, he was right to be cautious.

  “How about this,” she said, moving around her desk. “James can run his story past Rhys. If he gets the green light, then we’ve got a deal.”