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“Yeah, I didn’t think so. I just figured I’d ask.”
“Well,” he sighs. “I can try and dig into it. Oh, listen, while I have you, and speaking of digging into things, I came across some intel that might seriously interest you.”
My brows arch. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Like intel concerning the fifty-cal bullets coming through the windows at that Russian’s apartment.”
I sit up straighter. “Shit, what’d you find?”
“Ehhm…I can’t over the phone, man. Sorry. Even if you’re calling me from a proxy.”
I smirk. “You can see that, huh?”
He chuckles. “Fuck, man. The cool toys I’ve got over here would blow your mind. That’s the beauty of a Defense Department budget. You should see the shit I expense.”
“My tax dollars hard at work, huh?”
He laughs. “Something like that.”
I clear my throat. “Well, okay, could we meet?”
“You okay with that? I know you’re lying low.”
“Yeah, it’s all good.”
“For sure, then. Text me the address to this number. How far from the city are you? I’m actually working out of the New York office again this week.”
I grin. “Perfect. ’Bout four hours from you, then. We’re in Montauk.”
He clears his throat, and it sounds like he’s on the move. “I’m on it, man. Shoot me that address and I’ll get copies of this intel printed and be on my way. You’re buying me dinner for this.”
I chuckle. “How about I go one better and make it myself?”
“Shit, your cooking better have improved in the last ten years. All right brother, I’ll see you both soon.”
I walk onto the screen porch, where Callie’s bundled up in a big blanket reading a book. She grins when I lean down to tilt up her chin and kiss her softly.
“We’re having company for dinner.”
She looks surprised. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Jeremy. He has some intel about the shooter at Konstantin’s place, but it’s classified stuff and phones aren’t always so secure.”
“So he’s coming all the way out here?”
“In exchange for me cooking dinner, yeah.”
She grins. “Oh my God, someone from the outside world?Here?”
I roll my eyes as she laughs. It’s become an inside joke of ours out here: since we’re keeping a low profile and our one excursion resulted in me sending five assholes to the hospital, we keep laughing that we’re the last two humans after some sort of apocalypse, living in isolation.
Yes, it’s weird.
And no, I don’t give a shit.
“Is he staying over?”
I shrug. “Dunno. But it’s a three or four-hour drive back to the city from here, so…maybe?”
