Page 21 of The Twilight Theft

“Despite their thief nearly getting me caught on Chase Harrington’s job?” The room was minimalist, with sleek lines and simple surfaces, which I preferred. It was a stark contrast to Wyatt’s, with his homey leather versus my ergonomic mesh-backed chairs.

She chuckled behind me. “Craig says she’s going to—”

“Zaria,” said Craig, who’d arrived without making any noise. “Can you give me a minute with Drew?”

“Of course.” She inclined her head and retreated, clacking heels fading into the background.

I didn’t turn around. Instead, I swung out the painting over a set of low filing drawers to reveal my office safe. “She confirmed Alex is dead.”

“We were sure of that already.”

If only that part of the story had been the lie. I pressed a thumb to the scanner on my safe, and a nearly inaudible click sounded. “But it wasn’t the Iranian government.”

“Who was it?” His volume was the only thing that told me he’d moved closer.

Inside the safe were documents, cash, and a few files from clients. I stored everything personally critical in my apartment. I placed the SD card, in its carrying case, onto a shelf at the back, then added Wyatt’s key next to it. “A group called the Flame of Khvarenah.”

“That sounds familiar.” Craig swiveled one of the visitor’s chairs and sat.

“I did some research while I was out of town.” I closed the safe, swung the painting into place, and sank into the other visitor’s chair, facing him. “A group of historians and archaeologists started it in the early 2000s to protect cultural heritage items from being destroyed or pillaged. Over the last five years, they’ve grown more aggressive and apparently violent.”

“And Alex got mixed up with them?”

“From the sounds of it.” I dragged my hands through my hair. “She couldn’t find out what the link was.”

“She gave you everything else?”

“It’s all on the drive.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder, toward my safe.

“Do you know where they were?”

“The data package included details on their base of operations.” Did I really want to know? Did it matter? What was I even going to do about it? “They’ve moved around a lot in the last five years, but they’re currently based near Shiraz.”

“That’s a long way from the border with Afghanistan.”

“No kidding.” It was closer to the Persian Gulf. Claiming he’d been sneaking across the Iraqi border or in from the water made more sense.

“What’s the key for? Something of Alex’s?”

“It’s for Wyatt’s safe.” Leaning forward, I let my head fall into my hands. I should have been prepared for everything I learned about Alex. I knew he was dead, so what did the details matter?

Because it was one more deception. There was no escaping the lies.

Craig placed a hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

There was a knock at the door, and we both looked. Zaria, on the other side of the glass, inclined her head down the hallway.

“Guess I’ll have to be.” I stood, as did Craig. “I assume the Reynolds team is here.”

We reached the door as Wyatt led Scarlett and her crew past my office. Each of them nodded to me, and then Craig and I fell into step behind them.

Our meeting room had floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides. The third wall included a table for coffee and small snacks tucked next to Craig’s door and a large screen television on the fourth wall.

No surprise, Jayce made a beeline for the sideboard with the food, finding a bowl with fruit and granola bars. We didn’t stock our office like the Reynolds team did, as we had significantly fewer employees and usually ate takeout.

Everyone took their seats around the table while she stood against the wall by the coffeepot, unwrapping a bar.

“I’m sure introductions aren’t necessary, but a quick recap,” I said. Our last job was four months ago, and no one in this room forgot people quickly. As a courtesy, I gestured to my team members in turn. “Craig Bishop at the end of the table, Zaria Okoye in public relations, and Wyatt James in investigations. They’ll be joining us at the event.”

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