“Probably not; they have textbook gun-for-hire energy.”
The two white men appeared to be in their late thirties.
“I’m running facial recognition, but no hits yet.”
“If they’re pros, you won’t get one,” I said. “We’ll run it on our end.”
“I can have someone run it through the FBI database,” Cate offered.
Gibson and I shared a look. His raised eyebrow matched mine. I nodded.
“Thanks, that’d be helpful. You have someone you can trust to keep it on the DL?”
“Yes, sir.”
The FBI and CIA rarely played nice, but we had access to shared databases. Unless they’d had their IDs erased or were deep undercover for the CIA, Cate’s contact should discovertheir names without revealing that Gibson and I were digging around.
“How hidden are Grannie’s cameras?” Gibson asked.
Not hidden enough, I’d noticed them immediately.
But you know your family, and the shit they’ve been through.I knew to look.
Had these guys done their research? Would they know to look?
No, they hadn’t, or they wouldn’t have risked being caught on any camera.
Or maybe they’re not worried about showing their faces.
Which meant we wouldn’t get a hit.
“Completely,” Doug answered. “Only the external cameras serve as deterrents.”
“We’ve had some trouble, and we didn’t want anyone knowing we could tag them in the shop,” John added.
“Aren’t you worried about Mary? About Beth?” I asked.
Doug didn’t answer, but his face told me all I needed to know.He’s worried.
“Have you met my wife?” John asked.
I had, but apparently my childhood memories and dossier didn’t tell the full story if John wasn’t worried about her safety.
“Ma won’t let us hover,” Jamie added.
John’s phone buzzed. “Nina’s shift is over. Should Robinson bring her here?”
Chapter 23
Nina
Matt sat at a high top, sipping coffee while his fingers danced over the keys of his laptop. He looked like a typical guy working at a coffee shop, but I knew he was on high alert and monitoring the feeds from Grannie’s security cameras.
“If they come back, Matt’ll see them before they reach the door,” Mary said. She rarely worked the front counter, but today was different. Instead of doing paperwork in her office, Mary stayed out front with Beth and me, greeting guests and pouring coffee.
She worked the counter anytime Grannie’s got busy, or someone called off, or sometimes, just because she missed interacting with guests, so it wasn’t a total lie when she said “I can’t let my skills fade,” as she tied her apron on.
She didn’t fool anyone, but neither Beth nor I challenged her.
