“I do. You probably won’t believe it, but I’ve never been such an obnoxious leader as I was when I was your SSA. I never wanted to annoy the squad while we looked for our spy. And I never believed it could be you.”
That warmed her. “Good.”
“But you did think it might be me?”
“I did. There was something off aboutyou.”
“Thanks,” he said drily.
She added, her voice low, “But now I know it’s because you were working with Haversham to figure out who our mole was.”
They both paused, no doubt pleased to know the ex-agent who’d gotten one of their own killed would be serving a life sentence for his part in so many crimes.
“So dinner?” They both asked at the same time.
Jane flushed.
Matthew grinned. “How about this Saturday night?”
Regretfully, she declined. “I have a family thing on Saturday.”
“Would Sunday be better? Say six o’clock?”
“Sure.”
“And if you wouldn’t mind, can we meet at my place? I grill a killer ribeye.”
Normally, Jane wouldn’t meet a man at his home, but she trusted Matthew. She’d also seen the inside of his place thanks to some secret,illegalsurveillance he could never know about. And then there was the fact she could incapacitate him if even blinked at her the wrong way.
“I’d like that.”
“Good.” He looked more than satisfied before his expression sobered. “But there’s one more thing I need to talk to you about.”
“What?”
“A certain name has been mentioned in a circle that shouldn’t know he exists.”
“Who?”
“August Kaminski.”
She blinked. “The same August Kaminski we think responsible for getting a DEA agent killed? For manipulating the Mazzuca crime familyandthe Code Blue Killer? For organizing an organ theft ring in Las Vegas yet nothing sticks to the guy?ThatAugust Kaminski?
Matthew looked as if he’d bitten into a lemon. “One and the same.”
Chapter 4
August Kaminski,a wound in Jane’s psyche that refused to heal.
They hadn’t found much against the guy when they’d been investigating DEA Agent Dan Simmons’ death.
Kaminski didn’t raise any major flags. He worked behind the scenes, so pinning anything to him was impossible.
His name had appeared in an organ theft ring in Las Vegas a few years ago. Again, he couldn’t be tied to the crime. In Seattle, he and his family owned a string of restaurants and strip clubs, all legal.
The Kaminskis paid taxes and had no ties to organized crime despite word to the contrary from old Mazzuca informants. Unfortunately, those informants kept winding up dead.
Jane had kept an ear out for any mention of August Kaminski, but she’d heard nothing. No one had seen or heard from him in months. As if the guy was a ghost.
