Page 12 of The Criminal

“I’ll tell John and Kira. See if they can send Noah or Steel on all the Mills assignments for a while. Give her time to forget about me.”

Quinn snorted. “Good luck with that. She asked for you to lead the gala investigation. Because you’re so smart and professional.” She parroted Gigi’s seductive voice and batted her eyelashes at me.

I had to stop and remind myself that Quinn wasn’t my long-lost little sister, and I couldn’t put her in a headlock and give her a noogie for ribbing me. If I dared, she might blow up my car just because she could. The woman was a military-grade explosives expert.

I loved working with Quinn. She was no bullshit when it counted and a laugh a minute when the pressure was off.

“Come on, big boy. John called us into his office.” She tossed a saucy wink over her shoulder and led the way toward the back office. I followed, bringing the auction catalogs.

I sat across from John in the office he shared with his wife, Kira. I glanced at the clock and figured that Kira was out of the office picking up their son Marsden from school. Quinn settled in the chair beside me.

I put the glossy books on John’s desk. “Gigi Mills brought us more copies of the auction catalog for the investigation.”

John flipped the top book open, taking his time to read a listing. “This is either the biggest heist in Miami history, run by a crew of stone-cold pros, or a shit show of epic proportions that we’ve been roped into. I should never have volunteered us for this insanity.”

John rubbed his forehead and sighed, then tossed the annotated book on top of its twin. He looked stressed, or as stressed as John ever looked. It was evident in the grim set of his mouth.

“Per client request, Derek, you’re lead on the investigation. I’ll be backing you up since this isn’t your normal role. Loop the new hire Sydney O’Connor in as well. She’s worked at an insurance company and has the right background to assist.”

I nodded, happy for the support. Security and tactical strategy were my comfort zone. But John liked his people to be versatile.

“What do we think Mrs. Mills is looking for from us? Miami PD is all over this case. I don’t get it?” Quinn asked.

“She needs to show her donors she’s trying. But I think her people mostly care about their tax deductions.” John looked more cynical than ever.

“At least they had insurance,” Quinn said.

John snorted. “Yeah, and her underwriter is screaming for our heads on a platter. Says we should have intervened.”

“Are they fucking kidding? It was my call to have the team stand down, and it was the right thing to do.” I gripped the arm of my chair and struggled to rein in my temper. “Five hundred of the most influential people in Miami were in that room, and three of us. What did the underwriter expect us to do?”

“I’ve already handled the insurance company. O’Connor had a few valuable insights on what to do on that front. Your SEAL credentials and an account from a retired four-star general in the room were enough to deflate the situation.” John shrugged, like getting a general to vouch for us was no big thing.

I relaxed, pleased not to have to defend my choice. Civilians second-guessing decisions were a thorn in the side of every military operative. In the private sector, we were only beholden to our clients. Sometimes that was better, sometimes worse.

“Plus, let’s be honest, Gigi Mills would never, ever let anyone say something bad about Derek.” Quinn patted me on the knee, a mischievous smile on her lips.

I did groan this time and asked John to limit my interaction with Gigi Mills. He agreed to do his best after Quinn and I filled him in on her recent behavior.

“Derek, how did the lead you were chasing this morning pan out?” John switched gears without warning. The change in topic caught me unprepared.

My knee-jerk reaction was to deflect attention from Lee.

Her welfare wasn’t part of my job at The Smith Agency. They didn’t care about her.

“It was mostly a dead end, but I did learn the robbers are shopping for a fence to move their score.” It was evasive but mostly the truth.

“It always leads back to the money.” John nodded, processing my words. “Quinn, who do we know in that business?”

“We’re talking a jewelry fence… Hmm, let me think.”

Shit. Lee could be on Quinn’s list. A sinking feeling started to unfurl in my belly. This wasn’t good.

I’d have to backpedal and come clean with John about talking to her already. I never kept vital information from command—not in the Navy, not now. Two run-ins with Lee, and I was breaking my rules left and right for reasons I didn’t understand. That girl—no, scratch that—that woman was something else. I lived by the book.

“There is that father and son pair over on South Beach. They work out of a pawn shop, but this might be above their pay grade. Oh, wait, I know…” Quinn bounced in her seat and clapped her hands like an excited Muppet. “Mr. Fabulous himself: Charles De Wispelaere.”

I raised an eyebrow; Quinn pronounced that last name with a lavish flourish. I wasn’t familiar with this Smith Agency contact.

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