I glanced at Amy, but before I could say anything, she gave me a small, tired smile. “I should get going. Thanks for listening, Pep.”
“Always,” I said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “And don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. And we need some time spent together, just you and me. I miss you.”
She smiled and grabbed her purse. “I miss you too. I’ll text you.”
She headed for the door, her sundress flowing casually around her legs as she walked away.
I sat back for a moment, watching her go. I couldn’t imagine what could be troubling her for her not to be in touch with me every day, whether by text, phone, or in person. It just didn’t happen. We were that close, and I wasn’t about to let my brother Thomas get in the way of that.
I tapped Ian’s message again. The Lodge. If he wanted to meet there, it meant he’d learned something worth hearing in person.
And something told me whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good.
The August sunpressed heavy as I drove across town, the kind of thick heat that made you grateful for every patch of shade. With plans to separate to see to other matters, I was glad Ian and I had taken our own vehicles to the diner. By the time I pulled into the parking lot in front of the Lodge, I already felt the weight of Ian’s message settling deeper in my gut.
The Lodge was its usual blend of rustic and refined. The wide entrance still carried its old grandeur, tall beams, the sweep of space meant to impress visitors, and the massive stone fireplace that dominated one wall. It resembled a gentleman’s lounge crossed with a publishing house; leather chairs, polished wood, shelves lined with books. Ian had refined the place since taking over, smoothing the edges into something more professional, very Ian, though technically the deed still had my name on it.
Behind a sleek desk set off in a corner sat Winifred Dickens, my nemesis after the fiasco at the pre-auction event not long ago. Short and wiry in a light gray pantsuit, her white blouse opened at her throat, unusual since she mostly wore it buttoned to the throat with a brooch attached there. Her untamable red curls flared around her head like they had a life of their own, a sharp contrast to her crisp attire. The frown etched into her face hadn’t budged since I’d met her. I take that back. She smiled when Ian was around.
She glanced up, her voice dry. “Are you expected?”
I smiled sweetly. “With Ian? Always. It’s an open-door policy.”
Her frown deepened, but before she could deliver one of her snappy retorts, Ian appeared from the back hall.
“Pep,” he said, and the edge in his voice pulled me toward him.
We left Winifred to her fortress at the desk and went down the hall to his office. He shut the door behind us, and I saw at once the tension in the set of his shoulders.
“All right,” I said, standing close to him. “What’s got you pacing holes in the floor this time?”
He leaned on the edge of the desk, arms crossed. “Marie told me something Stone didn’t mention to us. The security cameras went down ten minutes before the robbery. It wasn’t a glitch. They were disabled.”
I felt the back of my neck prickle. “So, someone knew the system and had access to it.”
He nodded. “Which means they either had help from someone inside, or someone close enough to know how to get around it.”
“So, spill,” I said, folding my arms. “Because I know you and you’d be wise enough to find out who installed those cameras, and Marie would never deny you the information.”
One corner of his mouth curved. “You know me as well as I know you.”
“Occupational hazard,” I shot back. “Now, out with it.”
“The company is called Redhawk Security. Small outfit out of Pittsburgh. They handled the installation and the maintenance checks. Marie swears they’re a great company. They are quick to respond to any problems, no matter what.”
“Until the cameras conveniently died ten minutes before a robbery,” I said. “That doesn’t exactly scream reliability.”
Ian’s gaze held mine. “Which is why I don’t believe for a second that Stone just ‘forgot’ to mention it.”
“Yup, info for FBI eyes only,” I said.
“Which makes me wonder what else is known that we don’t know about.”
I grinned. “We know something that Stone doesn’t.”
“Remind me.”
“What Lara told us about Madge saying she saw two guys casing the banks.”
