“Oh, yes, I remember.” He pauses. “I see. How did you get my number?”
Sheer stubbornness.
“I have my ways,” I say.
“Well, is this about the egg?”
“Yes. Though not the way you think.” I let the silence settle between us like a grave, and when I speak again, I lower my voice. “I need to find out who you know with ties to Russian mercs. Right now.”
“Russian mercs? Mercenaries?” he repeats, sounding mystified. “I don’t understand. Has there been some kind of trouble? What happened?”
I drum my fingers loudly on my desk.
If he’s playing dumb, he’s doing a damn good job.
I’ve heard practiced liars fake shock before, and it doesn’t hit like this.
“There was an intrusion. Miss Blackthorn and the egg are safe. However, I have reason to believe Russian professionals were involved in the attack. Better reason to think it was someone close to you, considering how it happened after you revealed it to your contacts.”
“My God!” He curses under his breath. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Verity. To think that someone—anyone—would stoop to such petty street robbery…” He stops.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t launch the immediate denial like I expected.
Odd.
He’s either too clever by half to think he can get off without implicating himself in the scheme, or he’s genuinely outraged.
I didn’t plan for that.
“Look, I don’t know who was involved in this,” he says quietly, “but you have my word I’ll look into it. I’ll see if my European partners can turn up any leads on these criminals and help thwart any future schemes.”
Right. Because it’s that easy.
He’s being cooperative, though. That counts for something, even if his Euro friends won’t help with shit.
“I appreciate it. I should reiterate that Cleo—Miss Blackthorn has no plans to accept your offer. This won’t make her reconsider.”
“Oh no, of course. I’m not worried about that. I’d like to see the Hera Egg protected as the world treasure it is.” I can practically see him sitting there with his shark’s smile and greedy eyes, too smarmy for his own good. “It’s the principle of the thing, you understand.”
“Right. Personally, I need to go off more than principles.”
“I’ll do my best to assist any way I can,” he promises.
Incredibly, he sounds sincere. I fucking doubt it.
“Thanks. We’ll be in touch.” I end the call and stare at that ghostly boot on my screen.
Russian goddamned mercs. This whole thing gets darker and more sinister the longer I stare at it, trying to comprehend the moving pieces.
With a sigh, I switch off the phone and toss it back in its drawer.
Grabbing my computer, I pad back upstairs, locking the office door behind me.
When I get to the landing, though, I look up and see Cleo’s delicate frame silhouetted against the light. She greets me like a cat as I head up, pressing her cheek against my bearded jaw.
I pull her in because I’m helpless to do anything else.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”
