“I believe you. And you should feel honored—Con doesn’t let many have that job.”
Ash rocked a little in his seat as if that pleased him, but Sinner knew he’d never voice it. “He said you’d be checking in early this evening. How’s it going?”
“Cover’s holding. I sold the injury on the job. People are talking.” He paused. “Opal’s doing her part.”
Strained brackets formed around Ash’s mouth. “Con filled us in about what happened. She recover?”
“Yeah, she’s tough.” He couldn’t stop the flood of feelings that came at the mention of Opal’s meltdown…and what that had morphed into.
Ash nodded. “She’s good.”
“Yeah,” he said more quietly. “She is.”
They talked logistics for a few minutes, and Sinner fired off the names of every guy on his crew from memory. Ash took them all down to run through the system later. When it came to ops, every person was screened, even if it was unlikely they played a role in the crime.
He shot a look at the window. Daylight was fading to a haze of orange streaming through the slats in the blinds. Opal was late again, and he didn’t like it.
“Anything else for me?” Ash asked once he entered the final name.
He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. “Actually…I need to ask you for a favor, off the record.”
Ash’s expression sharpened, his lips thinning. “Go ahead.”
“It’s about Opal.” He stopped short, second-guessing himself, which wasn’t Sinner’s modus operandi.
“I’m listening.”
He pushed on. “She’s got something eating at her. An old wound.” He chose his words carefully. “Is there any way to find out what happened to her mom?”
“Let me have a quick look in the system.” Ash didn’t answer right away. His fingers moved across a keyboard, eyes scanning the screen. After a couple minutes, he leaned back again, slower this time.
“What is it?” Sinner’s voice held a gritty edge.
His brother-in-arms wore an expression he hadn’t seen before—half confusion, half concern. “Her background is sealed.”
“Sealed,” he echoed.
He nodded. “Under something called Project Lazarus.”
The words landed like two rounds to Sinner’s chest.
He froze. The air in the room seemed to vanish.
“Are you sure?” he managed to rasp.
“Dead sure. Whatever she was involved in, whatever her family was tied to—it’s locked down tight as hell. That’s as far as I can go.”
He nodded once, but his mind was already catapulting past the shock.
Ash couldn’t dig any deeper. But he knew someone who could.
Then he felt it—the instinct he trusted when all else failed. He looked up.
Opal stood in the doorway, her hand still on the knob, her face drained of color. Her gaze was fixed on his phone like it had just spoken her name.
Ash was still talking. “Sinclair?”
Silence throbbed in the room, thick and crushing.
