Page 8 of Six
Over her shoulder, Six threw Cyn a smile. Prior to Joe, it would have taken Cyn at least ten minutes to remember that was something she should ask.
“Fine. Confused, and you’ll understand why in a minute,” Six answered as she stepped into the kitchen. Devil was perched on a stool at the island with her hands wrapped around a glass of wine. Her bright turquoise eyes swept over Six, no doubt cataloging her health. Six flashed her a ghost of a smile, letting her know she was fine. Relief danced across Devil’s face, though she remained seated.
“Here,” Nora said, handing her a latte. Nora was about an inch and a half taller than Cyn and had a lot more curves. With her deep olive skin, green eyes, and curly black hair, Six had always thought she resembled a Mesopotamian queen. “Thank you,” Six said, taking the drink and dropping a kiss on her friend’s cheek.
“Where’s Joe?” Six asked, looking around the kitchen.
“He decided to work out while we catch up. He said to call if we need him,” Cyn answered. And by “call” Cyn literally meant phone him. He may be in the same house—in the third-floor gym—but in Cyn’s forty-thousand-square-foot mansion, sometimes phoning someone was the only way to find them, or speak to them, without having to walk ten minutes.
Six nodded, then took a sip of her coffee. She hesitated, not because she didn’t want to speak, she just wasn’t sure where to start. Her friends all sat down at the round kitchen table, but Six started to pace. Which was easy to do in a kitchen that was bigger than many people’s homes.
“I filled them in on your visit with Heather,” Devil said. Which meant that Six didn’t have to go over that and could start right where things got interesting. Taking a deep breath, she relayed the events of the last thirty minutes. When she got to the part about the white car spinning and flipping, Cyn pulled out her phone, probably to ask Joe to pull the police report.
But whether the two passengers in the vehicle had survived the crash or not wasn’t the most pressing question.
“Gavin Cooper?” Nora repeated when Six finally revealed who she’d seen in the other car.
Six nodded.
“That superhot paralegal that everyone is trying to bang?” Cyn clarified.
Six slid her friend a look.
“What?” Cyn demanded. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
“Not everyone,” Six muttered. “But yes, the very same.”
“Do you think he’s stalking you?” Nora asked. Six hadn’t considered that, but it only took her two seconds to dismiss the possibility.
“No,” Six said with a shake of her head. “If he were a stalker, I think he would have wanted to stick around and keep playing savior.”
“I think you’re right about that,” Devil said. “You said he’s ex-Special Forces. Does he live around here? Maybe he was on his way home, saw your predicament, and stepped in to help.”
Cyn snorted. “Sorry, Devil. Most normal people step in to help by calling the cops. They don’t casually cause a spinout that probably killed two people before giving a jaunty little wave and going on their merry way.”
“It definitely killed two people,” Joe said, jogging down the back stairs and walking into the kitchen. “There were a few weapons in the car, but no IDs on the bodies yet,” he added.
“I think they were the same people who killed Jeremy, so you might want to let your people know about the connection,” Six said as Joe crossed the room and poured himself a glass of water. Joe Harris, with his dark hair, sharp cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, and dimples, was a good-looking man. He stayed fit as well, but Six couldn’t imagine Cyn—or any of the them—with men who didn’t. Fitness was important in their line of work, and they each spent a lot of time staying at the top of their physical game.
After Joe finished downing the water, he nodded and pulled out his phone. “I’ll let them know.” Then switching to coffee, he started the machine, obviously deciding to stick around.
“I honestly don’t know what to think,” Six said. And she didn’t. Gavin was obviously trained in combat driving techniques; his Special Forces years would have seen to that. But the whole scenario didn’t make any sense.
“Are you sure he’s ex-military?” Cyn asked.
Six nodded. “He was definitely in the military.”
“I don’t think that’s what Cyn was asking, was it?” Nora said. Joe joined them at the table and took a seat beside Cyn. Six looked at her friend.
Cyn shook her head. “It wasn’t. What I meant was, do you think he’s reallyex? Is it possible he’s still serving?”
All four of them turned their attention to Joe. When he’d been hired on as the chief of police, none of them, not even Joe, had known that he’d been handpicked by Franklin—their handler and Cyn’s uncle—to provide aid to the women when and if they needed it. Six was pretty sure that Franklin had hoped to keep his machinations a secret for at least a few months. But things had escalated quickly after Cyn found a dead body on her property. Interestingly, now that Cyn mentioned it, Six realized that Gavin had started at her office a few weeks after Joe arrived in Cos Cob.
“I don’t know why you all are looking at me. I have no insight into Franklin’s decision-making. Hell, I didn’t even knowmyrole in your lives until after I accepted the job and moved up here,” Joe said.
Cyn reached out and took his hand. “No one is privy to what goes on in Franklin’s mind, and frankly, I think that’s a good thing. We were looking at you, babe, in speculation, wondering if maybe Gavin could be another you. Notyouyou, of course,” she said, pointing to him. “But aYou,” she added, waving her hand in his general direction.
With more than twenty-five years of friendship between them, Six knew exactly what Cyn was saying. Had Franklin sent Gavin to…well, not watch over her, but be her backup? If so, she might have to fly down to Florida and have a little come-to-Jesus with the man. Having Joe around made sense. They didn’t ever run ops in the US, but they often ran investigations, and many times, what they were looking into had ties to the US. Having a law enforcement ally helped with that.
