Wolfe’s blunt features widened in a smile as he drew out a tray holding three lattes, complete with mounds of whipped cream covered in sprinkles. “I was undercover, watching Dana’s six. She was meeting with a source.”
There was no way the massive ex-soldier could blend in, especially in the minuscule car. In fact, with his buzz cut hair, scar down his jaw, and cut muscles, he stood out wherever he went. “Okay,” Raider said. He tried to keep from blanching as Wolfe handed over a latte, one that no doubt would cause a sugar high from hell. “Thanks.”
Brigid leaned around Raider to accept hers. “Yum.”
Raider sipped on the straw, and the sugar hit his stomach instantly.
Wolfe nodded. “Just one shot of coffee since it’s nighttime. The flavor is candy cane.”
Brigid gave a barely there sigh behind Raider. For some reason, Wolfe was obsessed with giving everyone lattes laden with sugar, and the massive soldier seemed so happy about it that nobody could ruin his delight. Especially since he was usually planning how to take out their enemies. Real or imagined. “Are you here to see Angus?” she asked.
“Nope. Force texted me to take you guys to Dana’s place and promised he’d spring for pizza. Said you should talk to her about a mob story she’s working on.” Wolfe dropped his head and sucked coffee through his straw, draining half the drink. “Though she doesn’t share stories, even ones that Force obviously tipped her off about. I’ll talk to him later regarding that situation.”
Oh, she’d share this one. Raider cocked his head. Would he have to go through Wolfe to get to the journalist? “How close are you and Dana?”
Wolfe lifted a shoulder. “Just friends. I can’t take on more than that right now. Until I finish my mission.”
“What is that mission?” Brigid asked, stirring the whipped cream.
Wolfe’s eyes lost all expression. “I’ll let you know when it’s time.”
Awareness danced up Raider’s spine and spread across his shoulders. Sometimes he saw a glimpse of the cunning predator beneath Wolfe’s easygoing, goofy, and sometimes crazy façade. “You know we’re a team, right?”
“Yep.” Wolfe’s good nature returned immediately, and he finished his latte. “I wouldn’t spring for the good sprinkles if we weren’t a team.” A plaintive meow sounded from the left pocket of his battered leather jacket, and he glanced down as a furry white head popped out. The kitten blinked bright green and blue eyes, and his damaged left ear twitched. “Kat. What the heck, dude? You just went to the can.”
“Oh, you sweetie.” Brigid handed off her latte to Raider and gingerly lifted the kitten out of Wolfe’s pocket. “Come on, baby. I’ll take you over to the grass.” She cuddled the animal to her chest and strode across the ripped-up asphalt serving as their parking lot.
Lucky cat. Raider watched her go, along with Wolfe. There were no threats near the barren park, even though parts of it were dark. “Stay in the light, Brigid,” he called out.
Wolfe sipped his drink. “That cat is such a chick magnet.”
Raider blinked. The ex-soldier had rescued the kitten by the side of the road and quickly adopted it. “You know, at some point, he’s going to be too big for your pocket.”
Wolfe scratched his whiskered jaw. “I’ll just get bigger pockets.” He finished his drink with one long pull on the straw. “Or maybe he won’t want to stay in pockets any longer. It’s his life.” The wind picked up and scattered wet leaves across their boots. Wolfe shifted, and the SIG Sauer at his waist caught the dim light for a moment. “But I do feed him tuna fish, goldfish crackers, and steak. So he’ll probably stay with me. Unless he finds the right kitty to settle down with.”
“Do you try to sound nutty?” Raider asked, keeping Brigid within sight.
Wolfe grinned. “Rumor has it we have to turn you into the ideal man for Brigid. You’re gonna have to lose the suit.” He lifted his head toward the park. “You should smile at her more. Shotgun.” He strode around the truck and jumped into the passenger seat, rocking the entire vehicle as he did so.
Brigid snagged the kitten as he began to climb a tree and turned back for Raider, her expression unguarded as she snuggled the cat. In that moment, she looked young and vulnerable. Even fragile.
And he planned to ruin her father. Sometimes, he wished he’d become a dentist instead of an operative, like his favorite foster mom had suggested. But even then, he’d known something lived inside him that needed to seek and destroy those who caused pain, and out of deference to Miss A and her rules, he’d gone the legal route. It was unfortunate that Brigid’s father had not.
* * *
Brigid played with the kitten on the silent drive to the reporter’s apartment outside of DC, her mind spinning. No way was her father involved in the mob. Not the grumbly old farmer who’d gone through the motions of raising her. He’d been all about rules and guidelines with a strong dislike for modern technology. Her dad had thought television was for the news only, and that social media would lead to the destruction of civilization. He might’ve been right.
But he had not broken the law. Just because he was from Ireland, decades and decades ago, didn’t make him an Irish mobster.
Although she rarely spoke to him since going off on her own, she’d clear his name. It was the least she could do—especially for her mother.
“Damn it.” Wolfe leaned slightly forward to read the face of his phone, the light washing over his blunt face. “Go here.” He gave an address in a suburb outside of DC.
Brigid leaned to the side to study his profile better.
Raider drove off the Interstate. “What’s happening?” he asked, his tone calm.
“Dana followed a lead and needs a pickup,” Wolfe said. “She’s been working on a story about a dentist selling prescription drugs out of the back of his practice, mainly to bored housewives, and one of her sources must’ve given her a call after I left her apartment.”
