Page 35 of Heist in Paradise

I would not be underestimated.

“Do not,” I warned, my voice sugary and sweet, “talk about Molly.”

Zola’s eyes flashed, her grin sharpening. “Or what, Nancy Drew? You’ll trip over here and break a nail?”

“Don’t try me.”

Zola started to prowl around the table before Jax shot out his arm, halting her. The asshole just looked amused by the whole thing. “As much as I’d love a bitch fight right now, we’re on the clock.”

“Aw, come on.” The tension had apparently revived Nate. His glassy eyes bounced between his girlfriend and me eagerly. “The Hacker versus the Cheerleader. This should be televised. Let’s take bets.”

Zola’s dangerous eyes snapped to him. “Who are you betting on, babe?”

Nate shrank back fearfully.

I took a deep breath, pushing down my temper. It was hard. I was strung out and wired, and my head hurt just as much as my heart.

It was Callum who took pity on me.

“Come on, lass. Take a beat. I’ll show ya’ what we found.” With Ryle still clinging to his back like a happy spider monkey, Callum pulled back a chair and gestured for me to sit. I plonked down gratefully.

“What did you find?” I asked wearily.

Jax handed the tablet to Callum but spoke to me. “Zola hacked his email. A purchase order was issued to a pharmaceutical company here in Mexico. A big one.”

“How big?”

“Two hundred units.”

My eyes widened. “So, big, then.”

Ryle whistled over Callum’s shoulder. “That’s a whole lotta product. Was it the same drug Nate found?”

“Yeah,” Jax said, rubbing his shoulder—the same spot I had worked on earlier when I’d apparently lost my damn mind. “Either the old dog has a severe fucking anxiety disorder, or he’s pushing it somewhere else.”

“Cartel?” Nate asked.

“Doubtful,” Zola spoke up, unable to help herself. “The market value is shit. It’s not exactly addictive. What’s suspicious is that the pharmaceutical company lost its funding two years ago. They’re not even registered anymore.”

“So, it’s a cover for something else?”

“Or they’re manufacturing illegally,” Zola said, reaching for the tablet, which Callum relinquished easily. “The last order was made two weeks ago. It’s a repeat order, delivered directly to the coordinates of this clown house.”

“So where is it?” Ryle asked. He wriggled until he slid down Callum’s back and landed wobbly on his feet. “We’ve checked every room. You’d think we’d notice that much product.”

Something gnawed on the edges of my mind, like a memory that wasn’t solidifying. Why would Salvadore invest in an illegal anti-anxiety drug? Was he experimenting? Had Molly been some weird lab rat?

I pushed my fingers into my eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

Unless…

“What else could the drug be used for?” I asked, then repeated it when no one heard me.

Madoc smirked at me. “Got something, Watson?”

I scowled at the nickname. “Stop calling me that. The drug is non-addictive, and it clearly doesn’t work for anxiety. So, it must do something else, right?”

“I suppose it could be a light sedative,” Zola said, not looking at me. “The temporary paralysis and memory loss—you’d be a vegetable but not completely out.”