The woman wasn’t looking at Ace, so Harlow was pretty sure he missed the flash in her eyes. It was clear Magdalena didn’t appreciate the little-sister comment, but she hid it well.
“It’s Maggie. People who call me Magdalena die in their sleep. Painfully.” Maggie broke into some rapid-fire Spanish.
Ace fired back, the language a little different, and the accent slightly more guttural.
Harlow assumed it was Portuguese. “You understand each other?”
“Close enough,” Maggie said.
“What’s gatinha mean?” Harlow asked.
Maggie rolled her eyes.
“It means kitty.” Ace grinned. “Because this one has a thing for birds. She’s our rotor head.”
“Beats being a computer nerd,” Maggie shot back.
Ace sure as hell didn’t look like a computer nerd, and didn’t seem worried by the jibe.
“Rotor head?” Harlow prompted.
“Helicopter pilot,” Maggie said. “When I’m not running my drone and helicopter photography business, I fly the Norcross boys where they need to go.”
Norcross boys? Harlow tried to imagine how Vander felt about being called a boy by a woman younger than him.
“Why are you here today, gatinha?” Ace asked.
“I needed to see Vander about maintenance for the Sikorsky. I’m on my way out.” Maggie smiled at Harlow. “Don’t let him charm you into seeing his dagger. He isn’t choosy who he shows it to.”
Ace cursed in Portuguese and Harlow smiled. “We were talking about an actual dagger. A stolen one.”
“And Harlow belongs to Easton,” Ace added.
Harlow scowled. “I don’t belong to him. I’m not an object.”
Ace held his hands up. “Figure of speech, querida.”
“Easton. Hmm, good for you,” Maggie drawled. “He is one long, cool drink of water.”
Ace’s brow creased. “He’s too old for you.”
“I’m twenty-six, Ace, not sixteen.” Maggie jumped off the table. “Well, good luck with the dagger. I’ve got to go.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I have a date.”
“A date?” Ace frowned. “With who?”
“A big, buff guy I met at the gym. He’s a personal trainer.”
Ace snorted. “What do you know about him? What’s his name? I can look him up—”
“Bye, Ace. Nice to meet you, Harlow.” Maggie ducked out.
Ace scowled, and to Harlow, it looked like he was watching Maggie’s ass as she left.
Hmm, maybe not so sisterly after all.
They sat there quietly and Ace started tapping on the keyboard. She looked at the screens and then a second later, she spotted something.
“Ace, that’s the kid. Daniel Brewer!”
Ace leaned forward and zoomed the camera in. “No ball cap.”
“So? You said he works the streets, so he’d be smart and good at avoiding attention.”
The boy wasn’t looking directly at the camera.
“How can you be sure it’s him?” Ace asked.
“The way he hunches his shoulders is the same. And he’s got on the same battered running shoes.”
Then the boy turned, and they had a clear view of his face. It was Daniel.
Ace cursed. “Saxon,” he bellowed.
A second later Saxon appeared in the doorway. “You shouted?”
“We’ve got Daniel Brewer at Fisherman’s Wharf.”
Saxon stiffened and peered at the screen. “You sure?”
“Look,” Harlow cried. “In his pocket.”
There was a long, white object, sticking out of Daniel’s pocket.
“What do you think, Saxon?” Ace asked.
Saxon frowned. “Could be a knife.”
“I’m sure that’s the dagger,” Harlow interjected. “And I’ll bet that’s my father’s handkerchief it’s wrapped in.”
“Okay, I’m on it.” Saxon headed for the door.
Harlow leaped to her feet. This would help get Rhoda off her father’s back. “Wait, I’m coming.”
Saxon stared at her for a beat. “No.”
He left Ace’s computer room and jogged through the office.
Harlow ran to follow his long strides. She tailed him down to the garage. He slid into the Norcross SUV and she quickly jumped into the passenger seat.
“Harlow, you need to stay here. Safe.”
“Daniel Brewer is just a kid. And you’re a hot badass who can keep me safe.”
He stared at her again.
She sighed. “I need to help, Saxon. Everyone is doing so much, and I’m a born fixer. It’s killing me to just wait.”
Saxon released a breath. “I’d better not regret this.”
She smiled. “You won’t.”
Chapter Twenty
Harlow tapped her finger against the door, eager to get to Fisherman’s Wharf. She hoped they could find Daniel Brewer. The place was always packed with tourists.
Saxon pulled out of the parking garage, then called Vander to let them know. “Got Harlow with me. She wanted to come.”
“What?”
Harlow winced. Vander’s unhappy vibe came through the line, loud and clear.
“I have to do this, Vander. I can’t just keep organizing your office. I need to help.”
“Fine.” A long-suffering note in his voice. “Bring her back safe.”
Saxon drove to Fisherman’s Wharf and found a parking spot. They strolled along the restaurants and shops, and she fought the urge to hurry.
“Relax.” Saxon grabbed her hand. He pulled her close, like they were a couple out for a stroll. “Try not to look like you’re on a mission.”
Harlow took a few deep breaths.
“Good,” Saxon said. “You don’t want to scare the kid off.”
Saxon’s phone pinged. “Message from Ace. Brewer’s at Pier 39.”
She nodded. They walked down to the crowded pier. The popular tourist attraction and shopping area was busy. Lots of tourists were heading to see the sea lions.
“There.” Saxon pulled her close. “Don’t turn too quickly.”
She spotted the kid by a shop window. A group of tourists walked past, laughing. She watched as the boy ducked out and picked their pockets.
“Wow, he’s good.”
Saxon grunted.
Together, they strolled closer. She sensed Daniel move in behind them.
Saxon spun, and pushed the boy up against a railing.
“Hey!”
“It’s okay.” Harlow held her hands out. “We just want to talk.”
“And we want the knife you stole,” Saxon growled.
The kid bristled. “I didn’t steal nothin’.”
Harlow stepped closer, a smile pinned to her face. “Settle down.”
“Who are you?” Suspicion creased his forehead.
“I’m the daughter of the man you stole the knife from. It was already stolen. Now my dad and I are in trouble.”
Saxon started scowling. “He doesn’t need the details.”
“I’ve got this.” She looked back at Daniel. “Can we talk?” She waved at a sub shop nearby. “We could grab something to eat.”