No question the devices violated Crystal’s privacy and her trust. And he felt twice as shitty about that given the trust she evidently planned to put in him. Already had, just by making the call.
But then his mind put those facts up against some others—namely, her scumbag’s penchant for getting violent. And Shane’s brain landed on the side of thinking the devices a necessary evil. Didn’t mean they sat well in his stomach, though.
Deciding to allow himself five minutes to bask in the victory of Crystal’s having called, Shane made his way out of his room and down the hall to the wide-open space of the Rixeys’ combined kitchen and living room. Everyone had been hanging here after lunch when he’d slipped away to take the call, but they’d all made like ghosts and disappeared. He searched the gym and found more of the same.
He jogged down the cement-and-metal steps, his footsteps echoing in the industrial hallway, to the doorway of Hard Ink, the tattoo shop Jeremy and Nick co-owned. Whereas Nick only did some occasional work in the shop around his job as a process server—talk about your odd mash-ups—Jeremy was apparently well-known among tattoo enthusiasts, and the shop had an excellent reputation.
The back door to Hard Ink led into a large rectangular lounge with high windows and three brick walls. The longest wall held a kick-ass mural that read, “Bleed with me and you will forever be my brother.” Shane’s gaze traced over the red, black, and gray of the graffiti-like design and identified with the sentiment to his core. The team stood congregated around the center of the room, some standing, some half sitting on the round tables that filled the space.
“This is Nick, Derek, Beckett, and Easy,” Jeremy said, pausing long enough between the introductions to allow each of them to shake hands with someone Shane couldn’t see.
He joined the group and laid eyes on the man Jeremy was introducing.
“Oh, and this is Shane,” Jeremy said. “Shane, Ike Young, the man with the magic hands.”
With his shaved head, skull tats, full sleeves, and cutoff denim jacket, Jeremy’s tattooist looked like he belonged in a tattoo shop. Shane and Ike shook. Guy seemed friendly enough.
“Pfft. He’s not all that,” Jessica Jakes said, walking in from the front reception area and elbowing Ike with a wicked smile.
“It’s a good thing I like you, squirt,” he said, putting his arm around Jess’s neck and yanking her in tight. He absolutely dwarfed her in size—a combination of how petite she was and how huge Ike was.
“Of course you do. I’m totally adorable,” she said, glaring at Jeremy as he rolled his eyes. What Jess lacked in height, she made up for in the size of her personality and the bite of her sarcastic tongue. Shane’s gaze glanced over her, from the black braid that curved around the side of her neck and laid over her shoulder to the low vee of her tight, black shirt to the killer heeled boots she wore over a pair of curve-hugging jeans. When they’d met, Jess hadn’t done a damn thing to hide her attraction to Shane, and he’d had half a mind to have a little fun with her when this mission was over.
Now . . . ?
Crystal.
His mind conjured up the softness of all that red hair, the heat of her curves in his hands, the press of her body against his.
Aw, hell.
Shane gave Jess another look and . . . nope. His interest wasn’t there. Not anymore.
“And this is Becca,” Jeremy said. She smiled as she shook Ike’s hand, but worry and exhaustion shone in her eyes. This situation would’ve been a helluva lot of stress for anyone, but in the past few days, Becca had been injured, nearly abducted—twice, and now she was pulling all-nighters to stand watch over her brother. Thank God she’d managed to take a couple weeks’ leave time from her nursing job. No way she could’ve juggled all that right now.
“So, Ike and Jess, just wanted you to meet the guys since they’ll be coming and going from the building while they get their new security-consulting business up and running.” The team had strategized this morning what to tell Jeremy’s staff. They needed some plausible cover for why they were hanging around so much, and the consulting business well fit their military backgrounds and explained why they were buttoning up the security around here.
Jess pulled out of Ike’s hold and crossed her arms. “Security consulting. What exactly does that mean?” she asked.
“Private investigation, computer and physical-security analysis and installation. That kind of thing,” Nick said casually.
“Jess’s dad was a cop,” Jeremy said, neither his stance nor his voice as relaxed and convincing as Nick’s.
She pressed her lips into a tight line and nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “Well, good luck with it. I’ve got a client coming in ten, so I better get ready.” She gave a small wave and left the group. It was maybe the most reserved Shane had ever seen her. The mention of her dad had almost seemed to take the wind from her sails. Jess’s dad was a cop. Why had Jeremy used the past tense? And, Christ, did they need to worry about Jess or her father being in any way connected to the police on Church’s payroll?
As if hearing Shane’s thoughts, Nick said in a low voice. “Her father died a number of years ago. She doesn’t talk about him much.” He turned to Jeremy. “We’re heading out for a while. See ya later.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jeremy said.
Becca walked up to him. “Can I ask you a favor?”
Jeremy’s smile was immediate and full of affection for Becca. “Name it.”
“Can you keep an eye on Charlie for me? It’s just that I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, and—”
“I’d be happy to. My next client isn’t until four anyway. I can do the prep work I need upstairs.”
“Thank you.” She hugged him. “That makes me feel a lot better.”
Nick gave Jeremy a nod that communicated his thanks, too.
“We better get going,” Shane said. In addition to their humanitarian concerns about Charlie’s condition, Marz was worried he wouldn’t figure out the meaning of the binary codes without Charlie’s help, so it hadn’t taken anything for Becca to convince Nick and the team that Charlie needed treatment beyond what she and Shane could provide. Even leery as they were about bringing in an outsider. A veteran emergency medical technician nearly through with medical school, her friend seemed about as qualified as they could hope for. Better yet, he’d agreed to meet with Becca after lunch. But Shane didn’t want to be late to Crystal’s and risk her getting spooked.
The group of them made their way to the parking lot out back, and Shane updated the guys about his call. The whole team agreed Shane had to cultivate Crystal. Who knew what else she might share? Like a more specific location for Wednesday’s meeting—Derek had explained just how ginormous the marine terminal actually was. Turned out what they knew of the meeting’s location so far amounted to jack squat.
Despite their relative certainty that their presence at Hard Ink hadn’t been compromised, Nick had asked all the guys to go to the meet to provide cover. Church had clearly infiltrated UMC, so Shane understood Nick’s desire to err on the side of caution.
“Hey, whose bike?” Shane asked, nodding to the big black-and-steel beauty parked between his truck and Nick’s black Challenger. Hadn’t seen it back here before.
“Ike’s,” Nick said. “He belongs to a motorcycle club.”
Beckett came to a halt as his gaze narrowed on the motorcycle. “An actual social club or an MC?” he said.