“What’s wrong?”
“That’s Ry’s bike. He don’t lend it out on a whim. Inara needed to get somewhere fast. Either somethin’ happened with her husband or there’s shit goin’ down…”
We burst through the door and make a beeline for the command center. The rest of the team is huddled around the large table. Tension hangs so thick in the air, I can taste it.
The monitors along the wall show different views of Nash’s studio. On the center screen, Diego Ruiz opens the closet and curses.
“You have…cameras in my apartment.”
West looks up, his blue eyes devoid of all emotion. Shit. “As of last night, yes. And it’s a good thing we do. Keep the chatter to a minimum. I’m calling Adam.”
He sets his phone on the table and puts it on speaker.
“West! What’s up?”
“Listen very carefully. Pretend I’m an old friend you haven’t talked to in years. And don’t let anyone hear my side of the conversation. Got it?”
Adam pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. “The last time I heard from you was…the summer after graduation.”
“Do not react to what I’m about to say. A man just broke in to the studio. Nash is with me, but when the asshole doesn’t find him, he’ll probably come back into the shop. How many customers do you have right now?”
“Uh…maybe half a dozen.”
This is gonna go south faster than greased lightning if Adam doesn’t get his shit together. He’s not trained for this.
West glances up at Ryker, who mouths, “Eight minutes.”
“I’ve got someone on the way. Until she gets there, I need you to do exactly what I say. We’re talking about our upcoming high school reunion. Got it?”
“What the hell is she going to do about…the decorations?” He tells someone else to take over, then mutters under his breath, “This is fucking ridiculous. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Can’t. Not yet.” On screen, Diego stalks out the door. “He’s leaving the studio. I’d lay odds he’s on his way back to you. Tell him you expect Nash any minute. Give the dude a free coffee. Suggest he wait upstairs. Be friendly, don’t let on you know what he was doing, and get him out of the shop and away from your customers.”
“Fine. But you’re going to tell me—hang on a minute,” Adam says. He must cover the speaker, because his next words are muffled. “He wasn’t up there? Sorry, man. He said he was just going to the drugstore. Hang out in the stairwell. Otherwise you might miss him. Shouldn’t be more than another five minutes.”
The seconds drag out for what feels like an hour before Adam swears under his breath, the sound suddenly clear again. “I think he’s going back upstairs. Who is he and what the hell is going on?”
“Put the phone on the counter but don’t hang up,” West says. “Inara will let you know when she’s neutralized the threat. But until you hear from her or me, do not go back upstairs.”
Adam calls his name more than once, but West jabs the mute button as Ryker tosses me a comms unit. The device is so small, it all but disappears in my ear. A second one sails through the air for Nash. “Listen only,” he says sharply.
I tap his earwig once, muting the sophisticated bone-conduction mic, then hand it to him. “What’s Inara going to—”
“One minute away.” Nash flinches at Inara’s tense whisper in his ear. “Golf? Tango? Status report.”
“Right behind you,” Graham says.
“Take him alive, Indigo.” West cuts his gaze to me for a split second. “If you can.”
Nash’s fingers dig into my forearm. “If she can?”
I tap my own earwig so I can talk to him without distracting the rest of the team. “She ain’t goin’ for a walk in the park. This guy tried to kill you. Hush up.” Any other time, I’d pull him aside to explain, but she’s less than thirty seconds away from the stairs. So I take Nash’s hand and hold on tight, all the reassurance I’m able to give in this moment.
“Stairway’s clear,” Inara says quietly. “Is the target inside?”
“Negative.” Ryker slams his fist down on the table, rattling Wren’s laptop and West’s phone. “He bolted. Golf, Tango, perimeter check. Three blocks in every direction.”
“That’s it? He’s…gone?” Nash looks from Ry to West to me, all the color draining from his cheeks. “Maybe he was just a thief. You can’t be sure he’s working for the DeLucas.”
