Now Cassandra’s research had kicked it open. He wasn’t harmless. He wasn’t a civilian she’d slipped past. He was a trained operative with resources and a team. And tonight, he’d watched her steal, confronted her, and chosen to let her walk.
And the watch. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. That probably hadn’t been the smartest move she’d ever made. But he’d been standing there calling her a bad pickpocket, and she couldn’t let that stand. She’d shown him exactly what she could do, and that was a card she couldn’t take back.
But he’d watched her hold it up from across the room and let her go. He liked their game just as much as she did. That told her something. She just wasn’t sure yet whether it made him less dangerous or more.
“Okay,” Cassandra said, and Fallon could hear her settling into the next phase. The crisis was over. Now came the problem-solving. “Let’s talk about what this means for the work. Our target and the guy Zodiac is protecting. They run in the same circles. Same charity boards, same galas, same donor dinners. Austin’s wealthy circuit isn’t that big.”
“So there’s going to be overlap.” Fallon categorically ignored the little thrill that hummed through her veins.
Cassandra was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was careful. “Is it worth it? The risk of staying? The smart move would be to leave Austin. Find a new city. New target. Start fresh.”
Fallon’s jaw tightened. “We’ve been researching Chemo Money Asshole for two months, Cass.”
“I know.”
“He ran a fraudulent charity for families with fucking terminally ill children. He skimmed donations that were supposed to pay for medical bills and experimental treatments. Families who were already losing everything lost more because of him, and he walked away clean. He’s playing golf and sitting on boards and nobody has touched him.”
“I am aware of all that since I’m the one who brought him to your attention in the first place.” They both hated him so much that they didn’t even refer to him by name, justChemo Money Asshole.
“Then you know I’m not leaving. Not because of a man.”
“Even if that man is a trained security operative who knows your face and has seen you work?”
“I’ll be careful. I’ll adapt. But I’m not running from this.”
Cassandra sighed. It was the particular sigh of someone who’d known the answer before she asked the question. “There’s an operational problem you can’t ignore. The money clip.”
Fallon waited.
“Isaac didn’t just see you steal. He saw you steal from thetarget. Right now, for him, it’s just a woman he slept with lifting a money clip from a stranger at a party. But if the target goes down publicly and Isaac Baxter remembers the man you were standing next to when it happened, he has a thread to pull. A direct connection between you and someone whose life just fell apart.”
Fallon heard it. She turned it over, examined the edges. Cassandra was right. It was a loose end, and loose ends were how people got caught.
She filed it.
“I hear you,” she said. “I’ll factor it in.”
“But you’re staying.”
“I’m staying. If he’s at any events I’m at, I’ll keep away from him. He thinks I’m just a pickpocket. That works in our favor.”
“Okay. Then we adapt. I’m with you.”
“Thank you, Cass. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just don’t steal anything else from the man with the tactical team, please.”
Fallon almost laughed. “No promises.”
“I’m serious, Fallon.”
“I know you are.” She paused. Let the operational weight drain from her voice. “Hey. Be careful with yourself, too, okay? I mean it.”
“Go ice your knee. I know it’s bad tonight.”
“How do you always know?”
“Because you only get sentimental when something hurts. Goodnight. Get some sleep.”
