Houdini mimes zipping his lips, then winks at her.
Rounding out the group, Wraith’s the last to head over. As usual, he’s more solemn, but he manages to crack a small smile. “Sofia.” He dips his head. “Nice to meet you. I’m Wraith.”
“Diego,” I add. “He’s our communications guy. And he deals with most of our foreign clients.”
“Because he knows twelve languages,” Knight explains. “I can barely speak one. But this guy…”
“Twelve?” Sofia gives Wraith an admiring look. Which makes me feel irrationally jealous again. “That’s incredible.”
“Well,” I announce, belatedly realizing I just brought my beautiful and available ex-girlfriend to meet my four very single friends. “Let’s get started.” I gesture with my chin at the conference table. “I’m thinking we’ll divvy up the case files by year. I want to pay special attention to the divorce and insurance fraud cases. But anything that raises a red flag, even if it’s just a gut feeling…”
Wraith nods. “Got it.” To Sofia, he adds, “We’ll get this figured out for you. We won’t leave until we do.”
Once we’re settled around the conference table, Sofia edges her chair closer to mine. With her less than two feet away, she’s close enough for me to catch the scent of roses and honey again. Close enough to see the glints of copper and mahogany in her hair. Close enough for me to reach for her hand, if I dared.
I won’t. But I want to.
Especially when I notice her hands twisted together beneath the table, trembling slightly.
That’s when it really hits home for me, that, despite Sofia’s insistence that she’s fine, that she’s eager to jump into the investigation, she’s scared and desperately trying not to show it.
Is this too much for her?
Maybe it’s too soon.
Maybe I made a mistake telling Sofia about the cloud storage and her missing files. Maybe I should have looked into them myself first, and then talked to her about any that looked suspicious. If I had gone that route, she’d be back at home, resting.
But if I’d done that, it would have been a lie. A lie of omission, but a lie, just the same. And after discovering the devastation my father’s lies caused, the last thing I want to do is lie to her.
Rather than taking her hand, I reach beneath the table and brush her pinkie with mine. She glances at me with a questioning look, and I ask in a low tone, “Are you okay? If you’ve changed your mind about doing this today, we can put it off. No one will mind.”
Sofia stares at me for a silent moment. “No, I’m fine. I want to do this.”
“Okay,” I reply. “But if you need a break, tell me. We can go to the employee lounge for coffee. Or my office for some quiet time. Anything you need.”
Just as I’m about to move my hand away from hers, she links her pinkie with mine. Then she gifts me with a small smile. “Okay.”
But three hours later, we’re still going, and she hasn’t asked for a break yet. Nor has she taken me up on one any of the times I’ve suggested it. “Not yet,” she keeps saying. “I just want to get through a few more files first.”
I can tell she’s getting frustrated. Strike that. She already is.
And I can’t blame her. I’m frustrated, too.
Over the last three hours, we’ve come up with a bunch of people whomighthave motive to hurt her, but nothing definitive.
Could the guy she busted last October for cheating on his wife be angry enough about it to kill Sofia? Or the man who claimed his back was all messed up from a work accident but was actually faking it? What about the husband who brought his lover home with him while his wife was away on a business trip? Or the guy she caught skiing when his leg was supposed to be broken?
I’m doing a deep dive into all of their backgrounds, of course—whether they have criminal records, a history of mental instability, recent travel into Manhattan—but we’re not finding the glaring red flag we’d hoped.
What Ihavediscovered during over the last few hours? Sofia’s job is more dangerous than I thought. Staking out hotels in the worst parts of town, waiting to spot a would-be cheater? Following fraudsters intent on stealing from their employer? And doing it all alone?
I don’t like it. At all.
It’s too easy to imagine all the ways things can go wrong—one of her targets spotting her, approaching her car, pulling out a gun… or going right to her office and attacking her there.
Shit, I reallydon’t like it.
If Sofia were mine, I’d encourage her to find a new job. Something safer.
