“You have to hack it too?”Nic asked, gaze bouncing between the two.
Cam nodded.“Some component of the museum security system.”
Thank God he had the best tutor.Nic wouldn’t even begrudge Jamie the last coffee.He tossed the empty cardboard tray on the table as his gaze followed the three men out of the room, eyes straying to Cam’s ass in those worn jeans.This Cam was dangerous in more ways than one.
Aidan cleared his throat, and Nic righted himself on a curse, from the ache and from the fact he didn’t have a coffee cup to hide behind.Words would have to do.“A replica or Danny bought a vault?”he asked.
“To-may-to, to-mah-to,” Aidan answered.
Nic hoped Mel could put it to good use after.He rounded the table to the conference room coffee machine and started a cup brewing.Not great but better than nothing.“Tell me about Brady Campbell,” he said, leaning back against the built-in credenza.
“High school dropout from South Boston,” Aidan began.“Started working in his brother’s chop shop as a teen.Boosting cars led to boosting more valuable items.”As Aidan rattled off the details, Nic recognized the pattern, the familiarity.Easier for Cam to keep his cover story straight the closer it stayed to the truth.
“I know where this is going,” he interrupted.“How are we getting him in?”
“Whiskey found a connection.”Aidan nodded toward the laptops, meaning Gray Hat Jamie had taken a walk on the Black Hat side.“Someone who can make an introduction.”
The coffeemaker beeped and Nic slid his cup out.Taking a sip, he grimaced at the bitter taste.“Will he be wired?”There were more advanced devices—ones Mel, if not the FBI, could get their hands on—that were almost undetectable.
Aidan shook his head.“Too risky.”
More bitterness.“And sending him in completely cut off isn’t?”
“What’s this really about?”Aidan asked, brown eyes narrowed.
Head down, Lauren struck her computer keys harder and faster, the sound counting off the seconds of their stare-down.No way was he getting into this with Aidan because no way would it not get back to Jamie and that was Cam’s call to make, his friendship on the line.
For only two kisses.So far.
Lauren’s click-clacking reminded him of something else he needed to know, not that he really wanted to get into that matter either.“What did your trace on the car plates turn up?”
Her chipped nails halted their assault on the keys.“Nada.Stolen.Not a match to the car.”
“What did you think they’d show?”Aidan asked, far too perceptive.
Nic’s phone for once rang at just the right time.He drew it out of his pocket, checking the screen.AnotherUnknowncaller.
“Excuse me.”He tossed his cup of piss-poor coffee into the trash and ducked out of the room.“Hello, this is Nic Price.”
Dead air, same as last time.Though standing in the FBI’s offices, he doubted any of Vaughn’s goons were around to rush him.But was there someone else here on Vaughn’s payroll?Or in his office downstairs?
Someone who’d known where he was during both the prior ops?What other explanation could there be?
His eyes roamed the bullpen desks, looking for who might be on the phone, on the other end of the line.“Who is this?”
More nothing.
“You gonna keep calling and not talking?”he growled low.“Who do you work for?My father?Vaughn?”
Still nothing.
“You won’t be able to hide for long,” he bit out before his thumb jabbed at the screen, ending the call.
As soon as the screen went blank, he cursed.Not long enough for a trace, he didn’t think.But couldn’t hurt to ask.He opened the secure call app and scrolled to Mel’s number.Before he dialed, though, Aidan’s office door swung open and Danny, Jamie, and Cam filed out.
His frustration at the call must have shown.Cam trailed behind the others, pausing at his side.“Another hang-up?”He was a damn good agent, didn’t miss a thing.“Talk to Jamie,” he said.
Nic dropped the phone back in his pocket, then looked up, first over Cam’s shoulder at the open safe in the office behind them, then, when Cam cleared his throat, into those deep, dark eyes.Cam was who they should be concerned about right now, he reminded himself.The investigation into the shooter, the driver, and whoever was calling him could wait.
