“This morning. Before the Rodriguez situation.” I don’t look at any of them. “Medical staff, background checked, started today.”
“Holy shit,” Lev breathes from the kitchen. “Boss playing patron saint of geriatric care.”
“Shut up, Lev.”
But he’s grinning like Christmas came early. “What’s next? Adopting stray cats? Volunteering at soup kitchens?”
“I said shut up.”
Mary is staring at me with those wide hazel eyes, and something in her expression makes my chest tight.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I grunt, uncomfortable with the gratitude. “It’s practical. Can’t have you distracted by family obligations.”
But the way she’s looking at me suggests she sees right through that bullshit.
The doorbell chimes, saving me from whatever the fuck is happening in this room.
“Food,” Boris announces, jumping up like he’s eager to escape the weird tension.
Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting around the kitchen island with proper Italian takeout. Mary has a plate of pasta in front of her that she’s actually eating, though slowly. The color’s coming back to her cheeks.
“This is better,” she admits.
“Told you the Chinese was shit,” Lev says, twirling linguine around his fork. “Though I have to say, little rabbit, you clean up nice. Very nice.”
Her fork pauses halfway to her mouth. “Don’t call me that.”
“Call you what? Little rabbit?” His grin widens. “It fits. All soft and timid, but fast when threatened.”
“Lev,” I warn.
“What? I’m being friendly.”
“Be friendly somewhere else.”
Mary sets down her fork. “Can I ask you something?”
“Depends on what you’re asking,” I tell her.
“What exactly do you want me to do at the bank?”
The question I’ve been waiting for. Time to lay out the reality of her new life.
“Dave Thornton was moving money for a laundering operation. Someone else at the bank has access to those accounts. I need to know who.”
She nods slowly. “And how am I supposed to find that out?”
Boris reaches into his jacket and pulls out what looks like a regular USB drive. “This will copy everything on any computer you plug it into. Files, emails, browser history, everything.”
She stares at it like it might bite her. “You want me to hack my coworkers’ computers.”
“I want you to gather intelligence,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“One keeps you alive. The other gets you killed.”
