“Fine. I’ll do it now,” Bas said, pulling out his phone and typing a brief message toMargaret.
“Good. Once she gets me the information, I’m going to cross-reference it with all of Alexei’s known aliases and associates, including this Paterkin guy, and any mention of a Collierproject.”
“You need help?” Cort asked. “That’s a bigjob.”
“Nope. The fewer people in the loop on this, the less likely I am to attract notice from the powers that be.” Sean rolled his eyes. “And besides, I have a lot of free time in the evenings thesedays.”
A waitress in a dark-greenLola’st-shirt approached their table and started loading their empty bottles onto her tray. “Get you boys anotherround?”
“Yeah,” Cort said, glancing at Bas. “I’ll have another. And maybe an order of guac andchips.”
Basnodded.
“Not me. I’m out. I’m picking up my kids from a birthday party and bringing them to Stacey’s. All hyped up on sugar and ready to play.” Sean smirked as he reached for hiswallet.
“No way are you paying,” Bas said, putting a restraining hand on Sean’s arm. “Jesus. You’re risking your career helping meout.”
Sean looked at Bas for a minute. “I’m risking my career because it’s the right thing todo.”
“Either way,” Bas said quickly. “I’m buying yourbeer.”
Sean snorted. “Have it your way, Seaver.” He stood, shoving his wallet back in his pocket. He grabbed his jacket from the seat and his notes from the table. “I’m not kidding. You guys need to stay out of this and let me work. Trust me. Donothingabout this, hard as thatis.”
Bas studied the wood-grain print of the Formica table for a second, then looked up at Sean. Hedidtrust the guy, not only because Cort trusted him or because he’d helped them in the past, but because there was something innately trustworthy about him. That didn’t mean he agreed with everything the mansaid.
“Yeah, okay. Twelve beers,” he reminded Sean, extending hishand.
“Counting on it,” Sean said, shaking Bas’s handfirmly.
Sean clapped Cort on the shoulder, then lightly slapped the side of his face twice. “Stay safe,boys.”
After he’d walked away, Bas sank deeper into the fake-leather cushion and sighed. Cort moved to sit across from Bas and studied him for amoment.
“He’s a good guy,” Basoffered.
“The best. You gonna do what he said?” Cort wore a knowingsmirk.
Bas sighed, then nodded, making up his mind on the spot. “Only because he managed to convince me that I’d put everyone at risk if I didn’t. But I don’t like it,” he added sourly. “Being benched when this is something I do betterthan…”
“Better than everyone else?” Cort finished, when Bas cut himself off mid-thought rather than sound like anasshole.
Bas flushed. “Well, yeah. It’s not conceit, Cortland. It’s what Ido.”
Cort nodded, then looked at Bas thoughtfully. “You know, before we met, I had this whole idea of you in my head as an arrogant, entitledasshole.”
“And then I proved youwrong.”
“Well, first you proved merightby being a total jerk when we were back on St. Brigitte,” Cort told him, eyes dancing. “But yeah, then you’ve proven to be not sobad.”
The waitress delivered their beers at that exact moment, and Bas glared across the table at the man who was almost his brother-in-law before replying. “If it makes you feel better, I thought you were an insensitive idiot who was either gonna get my brother killed or break hisheart.”
Cort smirked and took a pensive sip of his beer. “And yet, I’m the guy who’d protect Cam with my life, and you aren’t particularly arrogant orentitled.”
Bas batted his bottle back and forth across the table, from hand to hand. “But still an asshole?” hejoked.
Cort closed his eyes briefly and smiled. “Sometimes.”
“Sometimes I feel like one.” He narrowed his eyes. “You know why everyone was on the plane the day of thecrash?”
