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The car pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. Daar thanked the driver and got out. Inside, he gave his name to the host and was shown to a private dining room in the back.
Daar glanced at the bare table while removing his suit jacket. He laid it over the back of a chair then rolled up his sleeves. That done, he stepped out into the hall, peering both ways to ensure he was alone before slipping out the emergency exit and into an alley between buildings.
The damp, chilly air was not to his liking. He hurried down the alley, counting the doors as he went until he reached five. He tried the doorknob. It gave way under his grip and he stepped into a dimly lit back room. The walls were lined with metal shelves and back stock items he paid no mind.
It was the two men sitting at a folding table he cared about.
“Well?” Daar said by way of a greeting.
“Evening, boss,” the man wearing the leather jacket said with a nod. Peter was American by birth. He’d come recommended to Daar years ago, and with each passing job proved his value.
Amaan tapped away at a keyboard, never glancing up. He wasn’t much for conversation, but that was because he never stopped working.
“What did you find? Anything?” Daar asked.
“Skilton’s in the wind,” Peter said. “I managed to track down one of the guys he hired before he vanished. Didn’t have much to tell me. Nothing, really. The guy was an idiot so anyone with sense wouldn’t have confided in him.”
Damn.
Daar wasn’t surprised.
If the rumors were true and the Americans had Skilton, they’d best make him vanish. But if Skilton had given them all the slip? That was a far more dangerous option.
“Amaan?” Daar prompted.
“Just chatter.”
“Alright, and the other issue?” He looked between the two men.
Amaan shrugged. “He doesn’t have a large social media presence, but you can’t read into that. Former military often avoid it.”
“No one I’ve worked with knows him. One guy knew some guys who did. I talked to them, for what it’s worth. They all said the same thing. Solid guy to work with. Doesn’t talk much. But I don’t exactly trust these guys. Something was off to me.”
Daar couldn’t put a lot of stock in Peter’s assessment of people. Facts were, they were dealing with people labeled criminal. They were all hiding something. For now, it was enough that Harper was known to other people. He wasn’t just a persona slapped onto a man.
If Skilton were caught, that was something he might advise law enforcement to do. There was no doubt that Robin was the weak link in his life. The fact that he had a soft spot for her made it worse.
It was awfully coincidental that she’d met someone new now. But that was at times how the universe worked. He couldn’t go jumping at shadows. Not now.
He had some good news to chase the bad at least. So why didn’t Daar have a good feeling about this? On the surface, Harper was everything he might want in a partner for Robin, yet there was something about him. Something Daar didn’t quite trust while liking the guy. Why?
Friday. Harper’s Safe House, New Orleans, LA.
Harper dropped onto the sofa, letting his weary limbs relax. He’d hit the gym hard this morning in an attempt to occupy his mind. His hair was still wet from his shower, but he didn’t much care.
Samuel tapped away at his laptop.
Why was he here again?
Harper wasn’t entirely sure. Samuel had simply shown up at eight, and that was that.
“When’s the last you heard from her?” he asked.
Harper pulled out his phone. “Last night when I texted her sweet dreams.”
“Have you set a time to get together again?”
Harper didn’t exactly roll his eyes, but he was tired of the same questions. “My answer hasn’t changed from the last time you asked.”
