“Huh.” Thad looks a little stunned, like I’ve just told him I know Brad Pitt or George Clooney, or something. Actually, to someone in the security business, saying I know Dan and Quinn is probably a bit like saying I know the security versions of Brad and George. “Those guys are seriously the best at what they do. They have this hacker who works for them, Alex Greene?—”
The memory of a tall, quiet, dark-haired man I met in passing pops into my mind. “Alex—dark hair and glasses, right?”
Thad stares at me. “You know Alex Greene?”
“Not very well,” I tell him. “We bumped into each other at IKEA one time. I know his wife.”
Thad blinks at me, hard. “You mean this whole time we could have just shot Alex Greene a text and asked him to locate your brother?”
I shrug. “I guess so?”
With a sigh, Thad turns back to Dean. “Alex Greene is basically the best hacker in the entire world. If he agreed to do so, he could get Molly a new ID, new social security, a whole new identity, in a few minutes. I don’t care who her father hires, he’d never be able to track her down.”
Molly and Dean exchange a hopeful look. “Do you think he'd do that?” Dean asks me.
I really have no idea. But then, if he works for Dan and Quinn, and Dan’s and Quinn’s mothers have anything to say about it, then… “Yes. Definitely.”
Molly and Dean retreat to the corner of the room to exchange fervid whispers. I look at Thad, who gives me a grim smile, an appreciative nod. “You did good. Who knew you were so connected?”
Grinning, I shrug back at him. “I’m full of surprises, baby.”
I meant it to sound a little over-the-top cheesy, like a schmoozy Hollywood agent, but Thad’s face softens as he looks at me, in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. “You sure are.”
At the sound of a loud, mechanical clicking at the door, we all stop talking, turning to stare.
It takes my brain too long to process that it’s someone opening the hotel door with a key card. By the time the thought has entered my mind, Thad is already stepping in front of me, shielding me with his body as he motions for the others to move back.
From where we’re standing in the room, the view of the door is obscured by a wall, so for a few moments we wait—until a man steps into view.
Shane.
Holding a gun.
“Dean Flanagan,” he says, with a steely focus that is as foreign to his features as it is unsettling. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to meet you.”
Chapter 42
Thad
For a long moment, Shane maintains his focused stare at Dean, gun aimed at his chest—and then abruptly, he doubles over laughing. “How badass did I just sound?” He lowers his voice to a gravelly, Clint Eastwood timbre. “Any last words, punk?”
At his continuing laughter, I exchange an uneasy look first with Helen, then Dean, before looking back to Shane again. I do my best to smile along, like I’m in on the joke, hoping that this is just Shane being Shane, despite my instincts keeping my body on high alert. “Good one, buddy.” I reach out a hand toward him, slowly. “You can put the gun away, though. Dean’s already agreed to go back into custody—haven’t you, Dean?” I don’t give him the chance to answer, just in case he gets it into his head to backpedal. To Shane, I say, “I’ll let you remand him into custody—fair’s fair.”
That’ll mean letting Shane collect the bounty, but I find I genuinely don’t care. Because if Shane agrees, and puts away the gun, my gut is wrong and he isn’t about to do something colossally stupid. We aren’t all in danger.Helenisn’t in danger, and we’ll all walk out of this just fine.
I wait, biting the inside of my mouth.
Shane laughs again, but this time it’s not a happy, playful sound. His hand tightens on the gun. “Wow, very generous of you, Thad. Too bad I’ve already gotten a better offer.”
It’s as I feared—and the worst part is, I should have figured it out a long time ago. Would have figured it out, probably, if I hadn’t been blinded by Helen. My first clue should have been when Shane popped up on the case, even though my mom never gave me the heads-up someone else was after the bounty. Or when Shane appeared on the boat, and Dean got that picture of Helen texted to him not long after. Shane wasn’t hired by a bail bondsman—he was hired by the mafia to track Dean down. He won’t be turning Dean into police custody, or letting Molly disappear under a new identity.
And he almost certainly won’t let Helen and me walk out of here alive.
It’s not the first time I’ve been held at gunpoint, but it’s the first time it’s happened to me with Helen by my side, and that changes everything. My instincts tell me to go into my usual calm, collected, problem-solving mode, but my nerves have other ideas. I’m finding it difficult to breathe, or think. My hands are shaking. I know I need to snap out of it, but I feel like I’ve been plunged underwater and I’ve forgotten how to swim.
“That’s right,” Shane crows, gloating at having pulled one over on me. “I’m working for?—”
“Cadorna,” I finish for him without fully meaning to.
