Both of ours have.
While I had visions of donning a black tactical outfit at one point, that wasn’t happening today.
I might be a former US Marshal, and Liam a former US Airforce pilot, but today we look like two classic Californian guys heading to a bar.
And that’s exactly what we’re doing.
Wearing tan shorts, short-sleeved floral shirts and ball caps—backwards—while packing a ton of muscle between us, anyone would think we spent the day at the beach working out and chugging protein shakes.
Instead, we’re about to connect with one of the agents working on Project Green Grass, the name given to the FBI trafficking case.
We see him the moment we walk in.
Liam takes the lead, ordering us two beers, while I glance around the room.I check out a couple of women I’d never look twice at normally, identify all the exits—as Liam did—then wink at one of the servers.
She blushes.
Liam sits down on a stool, while I remain standing, leaving one free between us and Agent Reed.
The agent has barely glanced at us since we arrived–no more than any other patron would.His eyes are focused on the TV screens watching a game.
A minute later, someone scores a touchdown.
“Yes!”Reed leans back, grin on his face and glances around, stopping on us “See that.Rams are seven points ahead.Soon to be nine, baby.”
“Think they’ll win?They’ve had a bad season.”Liam leans on the bar, and the two start talking football while I sip my beer slowly and appear to be far more interested in the girls.
I’m not.
My focus is predominantly on the surrounding space, but unless anyone was paying close attention, I’d doubt they’d notice.
Unless they’re guilty.
Or trained to recognize the signs.
I pick up the conversation shifting next to me and tune in.
“Past month we’ve had two go missing from this area,” Reed says.“Five in the past six months.”
My brows lift half an inch
“Known pimps in the area?”Liam asks.
“It’s not them.”
“Someone new.”I sip my beer, wishing it was a refreshing glass of water.It’s way too early for me.
“Someonegood.”Reed glances my way, and I note the concern on his face.“These girls are not their usual targets.”
“In what way?”
Another player scores, and the two of them cheer, Reed slamming the bar.“That’s my boy right there.Yeah!”
I take another sip, feigning interest, keeping in character.
I prefer baseball.
A curvy blonde watches me, and I wink.She grins, glances at her friends then flicks her gaze back my way.
