This wasn’t random.
Not good.Blowing up her van was one thing, but messing with her credit cards and bank account was a whole other level of fuckery. I didn’t like what it said about the kind of people we might be dealing with.
Sylvie was digging in her wallet for another card. I raised my hand, wrapping it around hers and the wallet. “Put that away. We’ll deal with it later. I’ve got this.”
“Eli.” She shook her head. “You can’t. I mean, I have money.”
“Not at the moment, you don’t,” I said, realizing I was yet again coming off as kind of a dick, but we needed to keep moving. “You’ll pay me back later.”
“I will,” she said, her eyes showing a spark of panic.
“I know you will.” I pulled out my own wallet and shoved a card in the machine. Two seconds later,APPROVEDflashed on the screen. I took back mycard and the receipt from the clerk, handing the receipt to Sylvie. “There you go. We’ll figure this out when we get back.”
She nodded, pocketing the receipt. I nudged her forward out of the line, scooping up the bags as soon as we were clear of the registers and clamping a hand on her shoulder, half guiding, half pushing her in front of me. Those cards failing one after the other had sent ice creeping up my spine.
There was a subset of people out there who could put together a car bomb. Not a lot, but enough. There was another subset of people who could fuck with computers enough to shut down banking or credit cards. That was a much smaller group than the number of people who could build a bomb. And the intersection of those two groups? Even smaller. And much scarier.
Somehow, Sylvie, in investigating Emily Shaw, had put herself in their crosshairs. That was not good. And I was the guy tasked with keeping her alive.
This had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.
It was possible that they hadn’t known she’d survived the explosion. Maybe. Though anyone with access good enough to shut down her bank and her cards probably had an eye on the police investigation. Either way, the attempt to use those cards had put her on their radar. I wanted her in the safe house before we figured out what to do next.
Lunchtime traffic slowed us down. By the time we got back to Sinclair Security in Buckhead, both our stomachs were growling. I carried the bags in, saying as I let us in the safe house apartment, “Take your stuff. Go get a shower and get changed. I’ll figure out lunch. Anything you won’t eat?”
She shook her head. “I could use some protein. Other than that, I’ll eat anything.”
“Gotcha,” I said, loading her with her bags.
She took them and disappeared down the hall. As soon as I heard the bathroom door shut, I pulled out my phone and called Cooper, filling him in on the visit to the police station and the trip to the store.
“You’re going to loop in Maddox and Emmett on the card thing?” he asked.
“That was my next call.” I strode around the open-plan living and dining room, peering through the blinds, unable to sit still.
“How do you feel about taking the other bedroom in that safe house?” Cooper asked.
“To keep an eye on her? Or to make sure she stays put?” I still couldn’t decide which was the priority.
“Both,” Cooper said, and I found myself in agreement.
“Works for me,” I said.
It wasn’t like we didn’t move around a lot in the course of our work. I was used to living out of a duffel bag. I thought of Sylvie’s van, that burned-out shell, and had a spark of envy for her traveling constantly and never leaving home. It had been a clever solution to the problem of a career that kept her on the road, and had probably been a lot more comfortable than some of the places I’d slept while on the job.
“Can you throw me over to Alice before I talk to Maddox and Emmett? I need to order some lunch. Sylvie’s starving.” I crossed to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Alice had already stocked it.
“Keep me posted,” Cooper said.
A click and a beep later, Alice picked up. “Sylvie all settled? I got her list delivered.”
“I saw,” I said. “Thanks for that. We need lunch, and Idon’t want to head back out yet. Would you order takeout and let me know when they’re here?”
“I’ve got it. What do you guys want?”
“Whatever is easy,” I said. “Surprise us. Sylvie wants protein. And maybe something sweet or fried. She’s had a hell of a morning.”
“Is she okay?” Alice asked, concern heavy in her voice.
