Page 17 of F*ck Steal Kill

Pushing the door closed, I unlocked the deadbolt and chain, opening it with a smile. “Hey, you find anything?” I asked.

He didn’t answer, moving forward to make me step into the room. Once he was clear, he locked the door back, headed to the adjoining door, and opened it. Grady stood waiting there.

I took my place on the bed, picking up my laptop, not offended he hadn’t answered. That was Q. He’d tell us both when he was ready. Settling back with the device on my lap, I realized I didn’t know how to act without it in front of me. Not only was it my longest relationship, but my computer was also my security blanket.

“Any updates from Jackson?” Grady asked, stepping into his leadership role.

“Nope. Nothing else in the chatter, either. I set the trap and got a potential bite. I should know more later.”

“Good. The toilet bowl was a bust. I followed suspect number five all day, and he showed no signs of suspicious behavior. He was just out with his family. He might be sleeping with the nanny, but I don’t think he’s our guy. Q?”

“Nothing,” he said, not elaborating. Grady accepted it, knowing by now that if Q had anything to share, he would. Otherwise, his words were few. I was the only one he really talked to, and even then, it was scarce he shared real information. Typically, he berated me for not following some rules he’d set.

“So, we’re still stuck on square one with no potential suspect. This guy is even better than I anticipated,” Grady grumbled. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on something, rubbing his chin.

“What’s our next move?” I asked, wanting to know the plan for the day. A hopeful part of me was eager to leave this room so I could bump into Holland again. It was unlikely I was her type, but she’d seemed interested and had flirted. It was enough to make me wonder if she was thinking about me.

“Let’s hold tight until you hear back from the contact. Maybe if we lie low, he’ll come out and leave a breadcrumb.”

“Does that mean we have the night off?” Q asked, surprising Grady and me.

“Yeah, sure. Just don’t cause a scene or get arrested. I’m not bailing you out if you do.”

Quentin rolled his eyes, but I caught the corners of his mouth as they twitched. He was up to something. Or, more than likely, someone.

“Sure thing, chief.”

“It’s nice to see you showing some respect,” Grady quipped, slapping Q on the shoulder as he walked back to his room.

If people actually ever saw all three of us together, they’d probably think we had a dysfunctional relationship. And perhaps it was, but when you were in the business that we were, the only type of relationships that tended to last weren’t all that functional.

Grady paused before he closed the door, peering at us both in the eyes. “Be safe.”

We didn’t respond, the notion foreign to Q to do anything other than be safe. But I knew it was Grady’s way of saying he cared. Just like with Q and his ridiculous procedures for safety.

“You going out?” I asked once the door shut, and it was just the two of us.

“Maybe. You?” he asked, assessing me closely.

“I was thinking of checking out the local pub.”

“You’re hiding something,” he narrowed his eyes, moving from the wall.

My cheeks heated, and I shook my head no, despite knowing he was right and wouldn’t stop until he discovered something. In an attempt to throw him off, I blurted out the first thing I could think of.

“I met a girl!”

Quentin stopped his forward progress, staring at me, frozen in his tracks. It would be hurtful if it wasn’t so comical to watch. “A girl?”

“Yeah.” I nodded and swallowed, begging my heart to slow. “I don’t know if she’ll be at the pub, but I figured it was a good start.”

“What’s her name?” he asked, crossing his arms as he continued to assess me.

“Holland.”

That stopped him; the name apparently too unique for me to have made it up on the spot.

“What does she look like?”

---