Daniel squared his shoulders and assumed a matching pose. “What do you want me to say?”
“That you got in too deep with Samiah Brooks and now you’re not sure if you can get out. Or if you evenwantout.”
Fuck. He was obviously as transparent as the windshields on these used cars.
Daniel dropped his head to his chest and sucked in a breath. His head popped up at the sound of Quentin’s laughter.
“You find this funny?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Hilarious, in fact. Do you think you’re the first one this has happened to, young buck? How do you think I met my wife?”
Daniel couldn’t help his grin. “You’re shitting me.”
“Nope.” Quentin shook his head. “I was still at DEA. She was an informant. Her baby brother got caught up in some rough shit and, being the bold, fearless woman that she is, she volunteered to be used as bait.”
“Were you the one who took down her brother?” He nodded. “Damn.” Daniel blew out a low whistle. “Thanksgiving must be loads of fun at your place.”
Quentin’s head shot back with his laugh. “My brother-in-law turned his life around. And he has his big sister to thank for that.” He shrugged one broad shoulder. “My supervisor wasn’t happy, but he eventually got over it. If you tell him, he’ll eventually get over it happening with another one of his agents.”
“I knew it.” Daniel huffed out a mirthless chuckle. “Hard to believe Dwyer was your supervisor. He doesn’t look more than a couple of years older than you.”
“He isn’t. But he was a hotshot like you. Always has been. Worked his ass off and worked his way up the ranks faster than the rest of us.” Quentin’s expression became earnest. “He’s a good guy. One of the best. And the fact that he thinks you’re up to the challenge of this Vegas job says a lot about what he thinks of you.”
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension. He squinted, almost afraid to see the other man’s reaction to his forthcoming question.
“You think I made a mistake in turning it down, don’t you?” Daniel asked.
The scar at the edge of Quentin’s mouth inched up. “I’m freezing my ass off while I car shop for two princesses who wouldn’t be here if I’d listened to my head instead of my heart when I found myself in your situation almost twenty years ago. I think you did what you think is right for you.”
How in the hell was he supposed to know if this was the right move or not? He’d passed on a career-making opportunity for a woman who had yet to introduce him to her family.
Daniel felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. A second later, Quentin’s rang. They looked at each other before looking at their phones.
“Shit,” Daniel said. “Shit.”
“Closing accounts for you too?” Quentin asked.
“This makes three since this morning,” Daniel said. “Shit.”
He took a breath to stop himself from panicking. This activity could mean any number of things. He doubted he’d been found out, but it could mean that someone had been tipped that law enforcement might be on their tail. No matter what, the fact that three of the eight bank accounts they’d been monitoring had been closed in a matter of hours meant that something was definitely up.
If the money launderers went dark, it could be weeks, even months before they surfaced again. It would be hell to find them. All the work they’d done, the man-hours he’d put in, the money that had been spent to facilitate this job; it would all be wasted.
Shit.
He had to get into that database. It was the quickest way to ferret out who was behind this. If there was such a thing as mission critical, they’d just reached it.
***
Samiah tucked the bottle of sparkling water under her arm and carried it, along with three glasses, into the living room, stepping out of London’s way as her friend swayed to the smooth, neo-soul sound of Maxwell’s “Ascension” strumming from the Sonos speaker system.
“Anyone else feeling a full-circle moment vibe right now?” London asked.
“Not exactly.” Samiah held up her wineglass. “Last time we met at my place it was Moscow Mules and leftover sushi. This very nice red wine and gourmet popcorn is tres chic, my friend. Good choice.”
“You are very welcome,” London said, still doing what Samiah and her cousins used to call “the old folks’ dance,” rocking from side to side to the rhythm of the classic song. She sauntered over and grabbed a fistful of the rosemary and white truffle popcorn she’d brought with her. “The wine is from a solo trip I took to Italy last year. I’ve been holding on to it for a special occasion. Hanging out with you two seemed special enough to me.”
“You went to Italy? Fun,” Taylor said. “I went back when we lived on the base in Germany, but only for a couple of days. I tried leaning over like the Tower of Pisa but fell and broke my elbow.”
