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“Point.”
“Besides,” Copper said, turning the computer around. “His financials are clean, and his bank account is kind of pathetic. So far, I’m not turning up foreign accounts, and I’m assuming Poppy’s ‘sources’ would have found hidden financial assets, even in the Cayman Islands.”
Money trails,ugh.Her least favorite thing to hunt. Let her pick up information or get them access, no problem. Pull a bank heist? She could do that, too. What would Brad have done?
Sleep with a sheep to get the info they needed, then delivered it with a five course meal. The man could make a picnic in a desert. She missed him. He’d understood how her mind worked, never relented when he wanted something, and walked her through the steps to get what he wanted out of her—until shewantedto give him what he wanted. Kind of like answering the professor’s question about her name.Stop.
“Go away.” Merc announced his arrival with three syllables, all of them directed at Cobalt. “Plat’s checking in with Chrome. Go talk to them, and give them an update.”
“Well, I know when I’m not wanted.” His easy grin said no hard feelings, and he left her to Merc. The teens inside had noticed Merc’s arrival. Their wide eyes and faint pallor suggested they weren’t familiar with the real, hard side of life.
The de-encryption program dinged, and she switched screens. They’d cracked the first layer of encryption on the phone. She had all the contact phone numbers, but no names. The possibility of spending hours waiting on the computer gnawed on her patience. Turning it over to Ant was the right thing to do—except I don’t want to give Gabriel to Ant until I’m sure he’s…Until she was sure he was what? Clean? Guilty? Out of her system?
“Most likely target?”
“No idea. I know who isn’t, but not who is.” Not discounting the encryption, but being security conscious didn’t make a person bad.
“Coyle’s dirty. He likes buying women and girls.” Merc stretched his legs out in front of him. “What about Barrow?”
“He likes dancing in women’s underwear and seducing men while wearing a dress.” The photos on his phone could make his bid for government office go down in flames before it began. Still, the images didn’t look photoshopped. Those she would ship back to Ant and Poppy. If they were a bait and switch, they could find out.
Merc paused. “Weird.”
“But not criminal. So far, all of these guys appear well over the age of consent. He has a type, too.” He liked that touch of gray around the temples.
“The professor?”
“Smart. Intelligent. No obvious vices.” Besides being able to fuck like a champion and giving her the best orgasm she’d had in a year. It had been a long, hard dry spell, yet he’d melted the chill right off her. Before they’d dressed, he’d talked her into meeting him after classes the next day. If she were still here, she’d go…Really?
Was she seriously planning to meet the guy? Only if the mission parameter required she do so. Of course, if she couldn’t break his encryption—
“Sachi.” Merc’s voice penetrated her internal argument. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Having a cup of coffee.” She smirked and raised her cup as though toasting.
He said nothing, the thousand-mile stare in his eyes raiding her defenses and seeing right to the core of her insecurities. Lying to Merc never worked, unless he let her get away with it. Most of the time, he didn’t push. Apparently, this wasn’t going to be one of those times.
She had two options. Play stupid and keep right on doing what she was doing, or concede the battle without firing a shot and confess. Neither sat well with her, so she took another sip of coffee and met him bland stare for stare.
“We need to identify the leak. Chrome’s right. You have a gift for ferreting information.”
“Thank you.” Hey, a compliment was a compliment.
“You also don’t get snowed by other’s bullshit.”
Two for two.
“Except once.” Well, two out of three wasn’t bad.
“Don’t say it.” Bringing up her decision to have an affair with Brad was Merc’s right. He’d told her it wasn’t a good idea at the time, and part of her understood it. Didn’t matter—in the end, Brad was still dead, and her only regret had been losing him, not having been with him.
“I wouldn’t, but you’re not giving me a fucking choice.” His glare spoke volumes. “I’m not some Dr. Phil asshole. I don’t give a rat’s ass about who you fuck or don’t fuck, unless it fucks with your head.”
She hadn’t slept with anyone in a year. A year. Who she slept with, or the fact that she didn’t sleep with anyone, was no one’s business.Right up until you let a target corner you and drop your clothes like some cheap two dollar whore.
Except—nothing about that moment in the classroom had been cheap or tawdry. Hotter than hell. Primal. Not cheap.
“You played suck face with the chick at the bar…”
