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I walk over and shift the frame back to its correct spot at the perfect angle. My mother was my age in the picture. My memories of her have faded over the years. I was young when she died. Sometimes I don’t know if they’re my memories or the stories my father tells me.
“Duffy.” Her name crackles over a radio.
“That thing from the '90s?”
Duffy ignores me. No wonder we didn’t see them coming.
“Yes,” she replies.
“There is a drone,” the voice over the radio responds.
Oh, crap. Ocean will be so pissed if they shoot down her drone.
“Leave it,” Duffy orders. “I’m sure Ocean, as you call her, will know all about this.”
She’s not wrong.
“Get on with it.” My father’s patience can grow thin when it comes to people being in his space. He’s not a people person.
“We need your help.” Another set of words I hate hearing coming from the FBI.
“Why should I help you?”
“Because we turn a blind eye to your little Robin Hood games.”
“You’re really going to bother me over that?”
“No, the truth is while I think your little games are silly, they are also very telling of your character.”
Is that an insult? I’ll have to ask Ocean later. I might be good at reading between the lines when it comes to network systems but not so much with people. “Besides, aren't you up to a challenge?” She leans on my desk, her gaze devious. “Parks got us nowhere with this.”
“Really?” Now my curiosity is piqued. Damn it. She’s playing me. I know it, and still I can’t stop myself when she holds out a picture for me to take.
“Owen Caddel.” I stare at the man in the picture. Something about him is familiar, but I can’t place it. I’m not great with faces or names. I can recall every detail of a project, but everything on the outskirts often gets lost to me.
“Is he famous or something?” The man is handsome enough. The strange thought fires through my mind.
“Owen tries to keep himself off the radar.”
“No one is off the radar.”
“No.” Duffy smirks, and I know I played into her hand again. “They aren’t, but he somehow has been able to elude us. We want you to find out whatever you can about him.”
“That’s all you’re giving me? A name and a picture? Shouldn't I know why I’m doing this?” I mean, name and pic are all I need, but a why might be nice. I should at least know what type of person I’m dealing with.
“We both know why you’re doing this.”
I hate that she has my number on this. “I know I'm better than Parks.”
“Prove it.” Duffy turns to leave.
“Hey! You’re paying for all this. I have to replace everything.” A small growl rumbles from me, making my dad chuckle. He always finds the stupid sound funny.
“Send an account number.” Her heels click loudly on the floor. I should get carpet, but there’s the whole germs thing.
“Crypto.”
“Of course.”
