They entered a luxurious room, and the open-concept floor plan revealed both opulence and a judicious use of space. Natural sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, offering truly phenomenal and expansive views of the Potomac. The furnishings were high-end and light gray, yet in every direction hung paintings that delivered startling punches of color.
Millie appreciated the view, then was drawn instantly to a large abstract painting hanging over the sofa.
The work breathed with hues of red and yellow and gold, and it seemed to dance on the canvas. She had never seen anything like it. She leaned down to read the artist’s name. “This is incredible.” The movement made her feel as if she was in the middle of a kaleidoscope while also relaxing on a calm beach. “Truly wonderful,” she whispered.
“Thank you,” a female voice said.
Millie jumped and turned around.
“Sorry, I heard you come in.” A truly stunning woman, probably in her late fifties, strode into the room, leaned up, and kissed Scott on the cheek. She stood several inches shorter than he but had his blue eyes and angled jaw. Her hair matched his shade of sandy blond, but unlike her son, she wore overalls over a white tank top and had paint...everywhere. On her knees, on her hands, on the side of her cheek, and even her hair.
“I take it you were painting?” Scott asked dryly.
“Yes. I’m working on a new series that encompasses the Rocky Mountains. I’m so excited. Do you want to come see?” She held his hand.
“Of course, we want to see. But first, Mom, this is Millicent Frost. Millie, this is my mom, Theresa Terentson.”
Theresa grinned. “It’s so very nice to meet you.” She hurried forward and held out a hand. Millie shook it, surprised, noting afterward that her palm had different shades of blue on it. “Oh my,” the woman said, digging into her pocket for a rag covered with more paint than her jeans. “This might help.”
“No,” Scott said. “Millie, there’s a sink in the kitchen.”
“Thanks,” Millie said. Scott’s mom surpassed him in the coolness factor, a notion that appeared almost implausible.
Theresa bent down. “Aren’t you a handsome one?” The dog yipped and ran for her, hitting her midcenter and throwing her onto her back. She laughed and rolled with him. “Oh, I love you. You should get a dog, Scotty.”
“Scotty?” Millie bit back a grin and looked at Scott.
He sighed.
Chapter Twenty
After a delicious dinner of grilled steaks, ultimate cheesy potatoes, and a mile-high salad, Millie wandered over to the wide windows in the living room to watch the Potomac churn beneath a tumultuous sky. Scott had headed to some office somewhere in the massive penthouse to work on his current cases, and Theresa had disappeared into her studio. The low drum of rock music pounded lightly through the floor, and curiosity grabbed hold of Millie, but first she had work to do.
She tugged her phone from her pocket and held it to her ear after pressing speed dial.
“Yo, Mills,” Brigid Banaghan said by way of greeting. “Where are you? I miss seeing your pretty face.”
“Hey, Bridge,” Millie said. “I was undercover for a while but now I’m free.” She didn’t want to go into her probable termination from the agency right now. “I need a favor.”
“You’ve got it. Anything you need,” Brigid said. As the computer expert with the Deep Ops team, she could hack anybody at any time. She had started as a criminal, kind of, but had been cleared, kind of, and now worked for Angus’s ragtag group of brilliant misfits.
Millie didn’t want to get Brigid in trouble. “Where’d we come up with the team name anyway?” she asked suddenly. “Deep Ops, it’s weird.”
Brigid chuckled. “I think it was after several bottles of Leonetti Cabernet. We invented names because, for some reason, Wolfe thought we needed one.”
“Who came up with it?” Millie asked, curious.
Brigid hummed. “You know, I don’t completely remember. I think it might have been Pippa.”
Pippa, an accountant, had agreed to marry Malcolm West, one of their operatives.
Millie had stalled long enough. “So listen, Bridge, I’d like to keep this between us, but I’ve had some trouble at home. It’s all okay now and I’m protected. Please don’t tell the team.”
“Are you in danger?” Brigid asked. The humor disappeared from her voice.
Millie watched freshly darkened clouds race across the sky above the dangerous water. “No, I’m not. Honestly, Scott Terentson is with me.”
“Really? What are you doing with our lawyer?”
