“I don’t either. But it never hurts to be safe.”
He directed her through a few more twists and turns before she pulled into an unfamiliar drive in the exclusive Broadmoor neighborhood, a gated residential community and golf club in northern Seattle that seemed to have been expecting them.
“What the heck is all this?” she asked as she parked. “Who do you know that lives in here?”
“Don’t act so surprised. I know people from all over. Not just back alleys and rundown villages.”
“Could have fooled me with the company you keep.”
“Quit talking about our family that way.” He smiled briefly before he put his war face back on and studied their destination.
The Georgian styled house was made of red brick and possessed quite a footprint, set high off the street for privacy.The landscaped front yard boasted blooming California lilac and shrubby bright red roses. Two Japanese maples bordered either side of the entrance, and a wrought-iron grill with a sculpted peacock protected the solid mahogany front door. The transom and sidelights glowed in various shades of violet, blue, green, and yellow, the stained glass the colors of a peacock’s feathers.
Someone wealthy lived here. Someone her uncle wanted her to see.
Everywhere she turned lately she brushed up against money.
Jane didn’t like it.
Her uncle frowned at the house. “Hasn’t changed much since the last time I was here.”
“Question. The last time you were here, were you invited or did you break in?”
He grinned at her. “Perspective is an important part of any story.”
“Uncle Chris.”
At this rate, Jane would be the one contacting Detective Ryan for a get-out-of-jail-free card. And wouldn’t Raine just love that.
Her uncle left the car suddenly, and she quickly followed. He appeared focused, almost angry. So she didn’t expect to see him break into an enthusiastic smile when Lionel Gambol walked out a side door, scowling.
“Well, heck. I had a feeling you’d end up stopping by instead of calling to bother me. Out of the country, my foot.” Lionel Gambol had at least a decade on her uncle and looked it, though he wore his years well. His short, dark hair had gone to gray, his harsh features lined with wisdom and experience, suggesting he was more than capable of holding his own.
He stared at the world with the dark eyes of a predator, attentive and all-seeing.
Sharp, secretive, and deadly, the man had clearances that supposedly made her uncle jealous, or so Uncle Chris had once said. Lionel also had the respect of Team Ten, not to mention a bit of fear on thepart of a few of their rowdier members, who’d run into him a time or two.
Jane didn’t know exactly where Lionel fell in the hierarchy. He claimed not to work for the FBI or law enforcement. Like her uncles, he probably swam in the murky waters of the government, the ones hiding deep sink holes. She wouldn’t be surprised to know he’d buried his own share of bodies.
Lionel looked her over. “Jane. You’re looking well. How are the ribs faring?”
Son of a… Dideveryoneknow she’d been injured? “I’m just fine, thank you.”
Her uncle grinned. “Still hurts. You can tell by the way she moves a little more slowly than she should.”
“I’m fine,” she repeated and forced a tight smile, trying not to grit her teeth.
“Ah, the resilience of youth.” Lionel sighed. He acted like he was a bazillion years old but still moved with the lethal presence of a man she wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley. She could feel his power in the way he spoke, his intelligence and perception as sharp as any knife.
Uncle Chris scoffed. “I think you mean the stupidity of youth. Which reminds me, I ran into your little protegee not long ago.”
“Protegee?” Lionel smiled. “Oh, that’s right. You ran into Gunther abroad, didn’t you?”
Jane blinked. “Gunther Rapp?” The special ops guy slash supposed FBI agent she’d once worked with on Lionel’s task force?
“Your old friend Gunther says hi,” Uncle Chris deadpanned to her before turning back to Lionel. “And he told me to tell you he’s still considering your offer. But he’d have to pick his own team.”
Lionel huffed. “That idiot’s going to cut it close. He never healed right after that incident in Qatar. And he knows it. He’s putting off the inevitable.” Lionel looked at Jane. “A lot like this one.”
