Evie shook her head while Cait fluttered around, setting the kettle on and pulling mugs down from the cabinet. When Evie rubbed her arms, he slipped his jacket off and set it around her shoulders.
“No. I just…he…we were…”
“Breathe,” Declan instructed, squeezing her arms and rubbing warmth into them.
“I didn’t expect to just…see him there. It felt…”
“Exposed?” Brogan offered.
“Yeah.” Evie nodded, taking the mug Cait handed her and wrapping her fingers around it. “Exposed. We were dancing, the music was loud, there were people everywhere. And then he was just…there. It’s like his face appeared for the barest of seconds and then it was gone. Like he melted back into the crowd.”
“It’s the closest he’s come that we know of,” Declan said.
“So why didn’t he make contact?”
Finn shrugged. “It’s Friday night. The place was packed. He can’t afford that many witnesses.”
“What’s he even doing here, though?” Aidan wondered.
“I think we all know the answer to that.” Declan’s stare was unamused.
“No, what I mean is, why would he put a bounty on her head and then show up to do the job himself?”
“Maybe he’s too impatient to wait.”
“Maybe.” Aidan shrugged. “But people willing to drop fifty grand on a hit generally have a bit more patience.”
“I don’t think the why he’s here matters nearly as much as the what the fuck we’re going to do about it.”
Declan nodded, happy to see some color coming back into Evie’s cheeks. “I agree. I don’t want to sit around and wait for this asshole to take his shot. If he’s here, he’s staying somewhere.”
“Under an alias, obviously.” Finn looked to Brogan.
“Definitely not using Peter Walztman. I’ve had that name flagged at airports, bus terminals, train stations, car rentals, you name it, in case he decided to show. Nothing so far.”
“Okay, we need to back this up. You did a job for him in Morocco, right? And something went south?” Evie nodded. “If that’s your only connection with him, then there’s got to be something in there, some detail we’re missing to figure out who he is or why he’s after you.”
Evie shook her head. “I feel like I’ve been through it a million times. I don’t know what I’m not seeing.”
“Take us through it again,” Finn insisted. “As many details as you can remember.”
Declan reached for her hand when she hesitated, giving it a soft squeeze.
“I got a call from William about a job, a lucrative one. He’s not my only contact who funnels clients my way, but he does usually manage to find the highest-paying ones.
“I was living in Europe then, in Vienna, and a quick jump to Africa sounded fun, so I took it. I met him in person in Rome to collect payment and get the file about a month before.”
“You met him?”
Evie shot a look at Declan. “Yeah. It’s not unusual for some people to want to meet. Some clients want the plausible deniability of never seeing you face to face, and some clients want to look you in the eyes and make sure you’re not going to screw them. I thought Peter was the latter. I left that meeting never wanting to meet another client in person, though.”
“Why?” Cait wondered.
“He creeped me the fuck out. From the moment he arrived he gave me a bad feeling. I should have walked away right then and turned down the job.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, the payout was too good. I’m talking millions of dollars for stealing a suitcase's worth of vases from a museum collection.”