Page 32 of Angel's Share

Jamie raked a hand through his hair. “Does this have anything to do with me tracing the Talley hack back to his brother, Michael Martino?”

“You did?” Aidan said, whipping his gaze back to Jamie.

“Sorry, Bev was the bigger concern when you first got here.”

“As she should have been,” Aidan agreed. “But now that that’s at least temporarily resolved, sounds like we’ve got bigger problems.”

“You do.” Sutton withdrew several folders from his bag. “That care package I mentioned.” He dropped the first folder on the table. “Everyone’s been getting in on the cargo theft game, and the Mafia have been doing it in one form or another for a very long time.”

“High-end jobs?” Matt said, reentering the room and giving Sutton a pat on the back. “Good to see you, man.” They’d worked more closely on the trafficking case with Marsh and Levi, Matt partnered with Levi then, and if Jamie had to guess, they’d been in touch since. Would maybe even guess Sutton was local now, given his tan and quick appearance on scene.

“All jobs,” Sutton said.

“But why would they outsource any of their jobs to someone like White?” Aidan said. “Especially high-end ones like those diamonds.”

“He got in debt to them,” Matt said. “He told us that. So Pudge let him run some cargo thefts. If he gets pinched, he’s deadweight.”

“But then White starts skimming,” Jamie reasoned. “And Pudge finds out.”

“So, time to make him dead,” Rooster concluded. “At that handoff for the diamonds. With not-Arty-Martino.”

Aidan leaned into Jamie’s side. “That could have been Angel.”

Arm around his waist, Jamie steadied his husband, while across from them, Rooster fumed. “I am definitely putting manslaughter on White’s charge sheet. Maybe more.”

“Do you know who Pudge is?” Jamie asked Sutton. “Who the meet might have actually been with?”

“Don’t know on the second. As for Pudge...” Sutton dropped another file on the table. “Patrick Mason. Not Italian but a known associate of the LA Mafia. His family is loaded. He’s well connected. Never gets pinched. Gets others like White to do his dirty work.”

Aidan pulled the folder closer, Jamie reading over his shoulder at the thefts Patrick Mason was suspected of being involved with. Dozens between Los Angeles and Vegas. “Did we”—Aidan glanced up—“Talley Enterprises, I mean, just get caught up in their theft spree?”

Sutton added another folder, the thinnest of the three, to the stack. “No, you have a vulnerability. Tomás Diaz.”

Jamie recognized the name immediately. “I spoke with Tomás an hour ago. He runs tech support for TE’s Long Beach and LA operations. If he had a record, it would have popped in the background checks.” TE’s vetting process was extensive. They’d put Jamie through the wringer when he’d been brought on to help design various tech and security programs and protocols for their flagship vessel, the Ellen.

“Diaz has no record,” Sutton said. “Nor is he a known associate of the Martinos or the Mafia. But some quick work by Agent Hall to refine the search you’d already started turned up a connection. Diaz and Michael Martino were in night school together. Computer science.”

“Shit,” Jamie cursed, and Aidan angled his direction.

“If you spoke to him an hour ago,” Aidan said, “I assume it was about the hack?”

Jamie nodded. “I asked for all the activity logs from the week prior to the second theft.”

“How would you approach this?” Matt asked Sutton. “This could be a big bust. We don’t want to spook Martino or the Mafia before we have all our ducks in a row.”

“I wouldn’t go after Martino. Not Pudge yet either,” Sutton replied, then said to Aidan, “You going after your own internal leak, though, that makes sense. Get Diaz to talk. Clean record like that”—he jutted his chin at Diaz’s folder—“I’d bet he doesn’t want to be a part of this.”

“Where was he an hour ago?” Aidan asked Jamie.

“TE office at Long Beach with KJ,” Jamie said as he gathered up Sutton’s prelim files. “Thanks for these,” he said to the former agent. “And tell Lauren thanks too.”

“We’ll ring Rick from the car,” Aidan said. “Have him meet us there.” He was halfway to the door when he halted, Jamie practically crashing into him. “Fuck, the kids.”

“I’ve got them,” Matt and Rooster said at the same time.

“No, we can—” Jamie started.

“Go.” Matt waved them on. “Tricia is here, and so is Ward, plus me, and Rooster. Berat will be back soon too. And we’ve got Sutton to give them dry land surfing lessons if all else fails to entertain them.”

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