Page 14 of Hard Pass

“Oh?”

“I work with an external integrity firm that the NFL subcontracts.” We move a few feet forward in the line before I continue. “We monitor betting patterns in real time and flag irregular activity by comparing historical data and really, anything that suggests someone might have information they shouldn’t. And then we investigate whether those irregularities involve foul play of some sort.”

“You mean like cheating?”

“Yes. A player throwing a game. Someone giving insider information to gamblers that could influence the way they place their bets or the odds they play. Basically anything that looks suspicious.”

Her brows lift. “Wow.”

“Yep. Not exactly glamorous, but it’s needed.”

“I had no idea that such an entity even existed.” She studies me for a second, her brown eyes wide, like she’s reassessing her initial assumptions about my job.

“Tell your daughter to trust her instincts. If this is what she wants to do, she can definitely get here.”

“Thanks.” Her grin widens. “For the record, I still think it’s super cool.”

“Thanks.” I smile and shuffle forward, because from the outside, my job does look cool.

From the inside, it equates to long hours, constant pressure, and the understanding that one missed detail could spiral into an accusation that takes down careers, reputations, or even entire organizations.

No pressure though.

The line moves forward again and with it, the conversation ends. All I want is my flight. Then my couch. And absolutely nothing that requires me to think.

That’s why my cell ringing the minute I clear security has me groaning.

I don’t even need to look at the screen to know who it is. Rather, I move to the side of the hallway, close my eyes for a brief second, and then answer.

“You have impeccable timing,” I say as a greeting.

“I’m assuming that’s a compliment?” my boss Marcus asks.

“I’m approximately forty-five minutes away from turning my brain off completely and taking advantage of every minute of those days off you promised me to be a vegetable.”

Marcus laughs. “Funny how life works sometimes,” he says cryptically.

“No.” I weave through a cluster of travelers. “That tone to your voice is not funny at all.”

“Dublin—”

“I just closed a case,” I remind him. “A clean one. No suspensions. No press leaks. No league fallout.”

“But you’re my best employee,” he practically coos.

“You mean the hardest working because I don’t have kids or a family or strings and therefore you take advantage of me,” I say, reiterating our long running joke that right now feels a little too real.

“Take advantage is such a harsh term. More like I use your incredible insight, your genius skill set, and your steadfast tenacity to keep the league and its players in check.” He chuckles. “Seriously, though, you are my best of the best here. GIA wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Who knew a random college internship would turn into my career, huh?” I ask.

“More like who knew that a random college intern had a knack for what we do?”

“You’re trying to butter me up.”

“Very true, but only because this is a good case you’re going to want,” he says and then pauses.

A pause that has me drawing in a deep breath, groaning internally, and knowing I’ll cave. I always love a good mystery.