Page 19 of Oddly Fine

“Looks like Ilya decided to graduate to bigger and better things,” Beckett commented, which made Hayes smile.

Naomie, however, was not amused. She simply continued her recitation without acknowledging his smartassery.

“The fourth perp we positively identified is Nathan Fortier. He was born in Queens, but his parents moved to Sherbrooke for a short time while he was a teen when his father took a job out here at one of the universities. Fortier had a few run-ins with the local PD while he was here, but nothing major. They eventually moved back to New York for Nathan to attend college. From what we gathered, once he’d moved out of the house, his parents moved back here while he stayed in New York. After college, he worked as an accountant for a big firm when suspected embezzlement got him fired. He’d dropped out of sight for six months until he showed up on the security footage at the bank during the robbery.”

“What about the fifth suspect?” Hayes asked.

Naomie walked over to the wall and tapped a blurry shot of someone of small stature in a hoodie sneaking out of a side door of the bank. “Our best guess is that it’s Nathan’s girlfriend Elona Solvek. She’s Ilya’s cousin, so it would explain the link, but we have no pictures or proof. Her passport was flagged in Italy two days prior to the robbery, and her boss confirmed she’d taken time off for a trip she’d been planning for a year.”

“This is all very fascinating—” Beckett drawled. “I love a good Russian theft scandal—and I’m not opposed to a repeat on the little person thief theory, but I’m not sure what we’re doing here.”

Naomie sighed, looking as if she was at her wit’s end dealing with Beckett. Hayes could relate. God only knew how many times he’d wanted to punch his irreverent partner. He wasn’t sure when that annoying quirk had grown into something he now fully embraced—but he didn’t share her annoyance with him even as he related to it.

“We’ve identified several locations where we think Nathan might try to stash the money until the heat dies down. We’ve done our best to stay low profile so they don’t suspect we’re closing in on them, but we have good intel that says they’ll end up here.” She pointed to a picture of a large brick building, covering a full city block and five stories high.

“Because—” Beckett said, gesturing for her to keep going.

Hayes gave him a narrow look, silently urging him to ease up on the attitude. Beckett ignored him. As usual.

“This is where Nathan attended high school,” Naomie explained.

“No one’s that sentimental about their high school days,” Beckett scoffed.

“He was a student there for three years, and he caused quite a raucous when he told some of his classmates that he’d found secret tunnels leading from the lowest basement to several places within the city. The school was searched, of course, and the tunnels were never found. But not even the Archbishop could kill the rumors.”

“Wait a second—” Beckett said, sitting up, showing obvious interest for the first time since the meeting started. “You’re saying—what—that a bunch of priests dug tunnels leading out of the school? What is this? A low budget Harry Potter remake?”

Sighing again, she turned away to try to hide how she was biting her bottom lip, reluctantly amused.

Carl snickered and then finished the tale of the school’s history.

“The school used to be a seminary. Hundreds of young boys used to stay there throughout the year, either because they were training for the priesthood, or because they were taking basic philosophy courses. The original building burned down in the early 1900s and, when it was rebuilt, the architects said they’d designed several passageways to prevent students from getting trapped inside the building if it ever caught fire again. Those revised blueprints have been lost, and no one really knows whether those tunnels were or weren’t built. In the early 2000s, when Nathan was a student there, a water main broke resulting in major reconstruction being done to the third, fourth, and fifth levels that are underground, along with the crypt. It was during those renovations that Nathan began claiming he’d found the underground tunnels.”

“And you’re worried that if those tunnels do exist, he’ll use them to sneak in, find a place in them to stash the money, and then get back out without anyone ever catching sight of him,” Hayes surmised.

“Correct,” Naomie replied with a grateful smile tossed in Hayes’ direction.

“We’re posting security cameras at the entrances and exits around campus, but this school is immense—if we deploy a massive workforce to secure the area and get eyes on possible rooms and places—”

“You’re afraid to spook them, and then you’ll have lost them for good,” Hayes concluded.

“That’s right, Agent Monroe.”

“Hayes, please,” he politely requested. She shot him a warm smile that was hard to miss. Hayes felt Beckett’s eyes boring holes into him as he focused on the wall of case data.

“So what’s the plan?” Beckett asked, giving her a hard look. “Do we have to dress like priests? Go undercover as schoolgirls? Hayes is the only one who could look good in a plaid skirt,” Beckett remarked sarcastically, gesturing towards the pictures of students walking to class.

“We’ll be sending in seven pairs of undercover agents to be stationed throughout the school. You will need to monitor your assigned area 24/7, and we’d keep a communication channel open at all times.” She pointed towards a recently updated set of blueprints posted on the wall.

“That’s where you need us? Inside the school? For a stakeout?” Hayes asked in an effort to understand exactly what her plan was.

“Yes. We already have teams monitoring the Fortier family residence and several other places Nathan might go, but this—” She turned to look at the school again. “This feels like our best bet, and we need to be subtle.”

“Should have started with that—subtlety is our bread and butter.” Beckett grinned and patted himself on the back.

Naomie scowled at Beckett. Hayes muffled his snort of laughter with a hand over his mouth, pretending to cough. He had to admit it wasn’t very often he met anyone like her who was clearly immune to Beckett’s charm. His methods and attitude were always unorthodox, which Hayes could firmly attest to, but usually, he grew on people like—fungi on expensive cheese. Always undesirable at first—and then later highly praised.

Carl detected the rising tension in the room and rose to his feet. “How about I escort Agents Thérault and Monroe to the bunker so they can get outfitted and review the finer details of the operation?” He’d created the perfect opportunity for Naomie to get rid of them.