“Vancouver is the cutting edge of the West Coast,” Julia told her, eyes twinkling, and while it may very well have been true, Hunter had to appreciate the way Julia helped smooth over Molly’s disappointment.
“Vancouver,” Molly said, nodding as though she’d had ultimate confirmation. “We can go.”
“So glad you approve,” Danny said blandly. He looked back to Tabitha. “So, do you think you could convince Artur to take Grace with him?”
“Well, yes,” Tabitha said, looking around the room. It was almost as though she were trying to figure out what everybody was doing there. “I just don’t know why everybody else would want to—”
Danny patted her hand. “Don’t worry, darling. There will only be a few of us—we need to see who is collecting these packages, right? And what’s in them.”
“You can’t steal them!” she said, her voice panicked. “If the person on the receiving end doesn’t get their… their”—she waved her hands excitedly—“their whatever it is, Sergei’s going to be upset. There’s no telling what he’ll do!”
“No, no, no, no,” Danny told her, his voice like butter. “Don’t worry, honey. Nobody will ever know we were there.”
THERE WERE more questions after that—travel plans, Artur’s habits, places he liked to go when visiting another city. Danny tried to press Tabby on Sergei a bit more, but she hadn’t known anything, and Danny had moved on so quickly, she’d hardly noticed he’d tried. After another half hour, Tabitha drooped visibly, and Julia escorted her upstairs to rest in a guest room.
Julia gave them all an arch look over her shoulder as they were leaving, and Hunter, who could speak fluent nonverbal, had no problem interpreting that to mean “Don’t you idiots make any permanent plans while I’m gone.”
They disappeared, and the entire group—Hunter included—visibly relaxed. Grace and Danny both stood up and stretched, Grace doing something elaborate and showy that involved kissing his kneecaps because he could and Danny simply raising his hands above his head and reaching for the sky.
Hunter’s eyes were on Grace, mostly, and the long, sinewy lines of his legs to his hips, from his hips to his shoulders. He moved like air, or like smoke, but Hunter had seen him in tight clothes—he knew the muscles that supported all that flexibility, and he wanted to touch them.
But he didn’t want them to be gone the next morning.
“Okay, children,” Danny said, moving toward the wet bar. “I will take suggestions and observations at this moment. What do you have for me?”
“He’s been a mob mule for how long?” Chuck asked, voicing everybody’s question with his usual succinctness, and Hunter blinked hard, trying to snap his mind to the job.
“We’ll have to ask Grace,” Felix said. “Grace, how old is the Conservatory?”
“Mm… thirty years, I think.” Grace closed his eyes, stood straight, and then arched over backward and did a complicated ripple thing with his hands coming out from his chest. He straightened and reached for the sky, and Hunter found himself staring again.
Dammit.
Grace looked over his shoulder, toward Danny and away from Hunter, and Hunter found he could breathe—and concentrate on the job too, which was a definite plus.
“So thirty years.” Danny blew out a breath. “Vlad Kadjic was… well, he was nothing like his nephews, that’s for certain. Andre may be an animal, but he’s got rules. I don’t know much about Sergei—but I’m expecting he’ll be worse than Andre. The ones on the bottom of those dung heaps often are.”
“Will they expect Artur to be loyal?” Felix asked, hands casually in his pockets as he leaned against the bar. “And yes, I want orange juice too.”
Danny got behind the wet bar and started scooping ice from a freezer underneath. “No, yes, and it doesn’t matter,” he answered, and Hunter could hear the rustle of rolled eyeballs go around the room. “Don’t look at me that way. What I’m saying is that no, Sergei won’t expect Artur to work for him out of loyalty, hence the veiled threat to Tabitha. Yes, he’ll expect the threat to Tabitha to work, and the threat to the Conservatory too, because these are things that Artur Mikkelnokov loves, and they are both particularly vulnerable. And it doesn’t matter, because he’ll either (a) work Artur to death because he doesn’t give two shits about him, or (b) have him killed because working people to death creates enemies but killing them outright creates silence and fear. No, Grace,” Danny added, dumping straight orange juice into two tall glasses, “it’s just as well your friend asked for help now. We’ve got some time before Sergei decides to start killing people and burning things down.”
There was a collective shudder, and Hunter—who had always respected Danny—grew to respect him a little bit more for not sugarcoating things.
Danny saw his regard and smiled, downing a swallow of orange juice. “Hunter, you have something to say?”
Hunter nodded slowly, uncoiling from his position against the wall, remembering he was among friends—a thing he’d never really had before he met Josh Salinger, but one he was beginning to enjoy.
“We need to know what they’re trafficking,” he said slowly. “Tabitha is right. It’s got to be more than precious gems or gold.” He narrowed his eyes at Danny. “How high up was Vlad Kadjic? Was he, I dunno, a big enough mobster to fund a coup?”
Danny sucked air in through his teeth. “If you’re asking if he was into industrial espionage or spy work, I have no idea.” He bit his lip. “I expect Felix and I can do some digging.” He aimed a look at Stirling. “You wouldn’t want to help when we need it, would you?”
Stirling nodded, making eye contact with Danny and only Danny. “Sure. Anything else?”
Felix turned to Stirling, keeping his voice low so the kid wouldn’t startle. “Talk to Tabitha and see if you can get a list of some of the places and dates Artur made deliveries. I know when I make a business trip, something happens in that vicinity within a day or two. It’s only in my field—broadcasting or communications—but there’s a ripple to my visit. Take a look at the timelines and figure out what ripples these little packages are leaving. And if you’re not done by the time they leave for Vancouver, be prepared to bring your little show on the road, because I have the feeling we’ll need you in Vancouver too.”
Josh went to speak up. “But—”
Hunter could see it, but only because he was standing across from Felix. Felix raised an eyebrow at his son, and Josh nodded. Ah, Felix would be addressing the obvious hole in the plan later.
“So, what do Molly and I do?” Julia asked, coming down the stairs at a pretty good clip. She flashed a brilliant smile at Molly. “Besides shop.”
Molly grinned back, but Hunter saw the yearning in her eyes. Molly and Stirling had been foster children together until their foster parents were killed in a yachting accident. Molly missed having parents, and lo and behold, Josh brought her and her brother home to a whole new set.
Inside, Hunter wanted to sigh. He was too old and too prickly for new parents, but that didn’t mean he wanted to let his team down either.