“No. That wasn’t me. And all that information has been destroyed.”
“Charlie tell you to do that?” Max asked.
“No. The whole thing bothered me. So I made it go away.”
The elevator arrived and they went to a secure subbasement. There were black vans equipped with elaborate communication and media centers so that whoever worked the van could keep in contact with the rest of the team.
“Here are your lockers. You can find body armor in the room over there. There are a lot of sizes; you should find what you need.” She pointed to another room. “Weapons in there. Everything you could possibly—” Max smirked as her teammates charged into that room, practically knocking Imani down. “Ooooo-kay.” She gestured to Max and Charlie. “You two don’t feel the need to run into the room to see what’s available?”
“I doubt it’s better than what we have.” Imani laughed until Max said, “No. Seriously. We have a lot of connections.”
“Oh.”
Making the decision not to discuss this any further, Imani handed a folder to Charlie. “Here’s the information you need.”
Charlie looked everything over and immediately frowned. “The de Medici Pride? I never heard of them.”
“I have.” Max looked at her sister. “A lot of our weapons are from their people.”
“That’s awkward.”
“I doubt you’ll find any de Medicis there today,” Imani said. “And don’t worry about that for now. First, we take on their businesses, then we take them on. Any questions? Need anything from me?”
Charlie shook her head. “Nope.”
“Then good luck.”
Charlie waited until Imani had gone back upstairs before asking Max, “You sure you want to do this? You sure you want to drag your friends into this?”
Streep walked out of the weapons room carrying a military-grade Gatling gun. The kind used by a door gunner in a military copter trying to get soldiers out of ’Nam.
But the smile on Streep’s face . . . it was like she’d just stumbled into a room filled with diamonds.
“Dragging?” Max asked her sister. “Is that what you really think I’m doing?”
* * *
Miki walked to the door and opened it. She was about to walk out when Irene asked, “Where are you going?”
“Taking a break.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. Right now. Why?”
“It seemed you were on the brink of discovering something. So I’m surprised you’re leaving.”
“My eyes are killing me. Besides, a little coffee is just what I need. Want me to bring you some back?”
Irene didn’t respond, simply walked away. She used to do that anytime Miki went over something in her dissertation that Irene didn’t agree with.
Of course, that never stopped Miki from sticking with her decision if she knew what she was doing was right. And this was right.
She walked out of the Van Holtz town house and went down the street. There she caught a cab and traveled to a diner off the Jersey Turnpike.
Miki sat down in the booth and smiled.
The girl looked up from the computer she was working on.
“Hi,” Miki said. “I thought we should talk.”
Pointing at her ears, the girl shook her head.
“You’re deaf?” Miki asked and was rewarded with a head tilt and a confused frown.
“No problem,” she replied in American Sign Language. “I used to be hot for this guy in junior high. He was deaf so I learned ASL. Now . . . are we going to keep this bullshit up?”
Slamming her laptop shut, the girl replied verbally, “What do you want?”
She was definitely deaf, but had probably lost her hearing when she was a child.
Still using ASL and speaking softly at the same time so the kid could use both, Miki went with blunt. “You need to put the money back.”
“Are you going to turn me in?”
“I could. But I was you. Once. Almost did hard time. Hard federal time. Kid, you don’t want that.”
“What do I want, O’ Magic Wizard?”
“A challenge. I’ve seen your work. You’re good, but you get bored easy. Right? Is that why you got yourself into this? I have to tell you, my real concern is that you won’t live much longer. Because you’re dealing with people who will kill you and it will mean nothing to them.”
“They have to find me first.”
“Don’t get cocky. I found you. So, give the money back and go home to your family.”
“Not yet.” She shoved her laptop into a tote bag and pulled the straps onto her shoulder. “I have things to do first.”
Miki reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “You are fucking with actual gangsters.”
She leaned down and said, “And I come from an entire family of gangsters. The MacKilligans don’t scare me.”
Watching her leave the diner, Miki took out her phone. She’d hoped to avoid this, but . . .
“I found them,” she said when she got an answer. “But I’m thinking that you better move fast.”
* * *
Charlie had slipped into the role of team leader quite naturally. Of course, Max’s teammates made that easy. They started off joking and not taking things as seriously as they should, which had always been their way. But when Charlie snarled, they reacted so quickly and intensely, the question of who was in charge never came up.
Body armor was put on while Max and Charlie made decisions about what weapons to bring. They packed up a black van and, with Tock driving, headed off.
They were nearing the docks when Charlie got a text on her phone. She looked down and said, “They’re already on the move.”
She typed into the keyboard and called out, “New address on the GPS, Tock.”
“Got it.”
“You ready for this, Streep?” she asked, since Streep was the only one not in body armor.
“Yep.” Then she dug into her purse and pulled out lip gloss.
“Seriously?” Mads asked.
“Shut up.”
chapter TWENTY-EIGHT
He heard the knock at the door of the house they were “borrowing” and opened it.
She was tiny but cute, staring up at him with bright eyes and glossy lips.
“Hi!” she said. “My car broke down and I was wondering—”
He closed the door in her face.
“That was rude!” she yelled.
“Go away, badger. I’m not in the mood to play with you.”
One of the bosses helping to take inventory came out of the office. “What the hell was that?”
“Some badger. Probably came to rob the place.”
“Kill her,” he said, turning back toward the office.
“Really?” That seemed a little harsh. Even for grizzlies doing illegal shit.
“Just do it. No witnesses.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
Opening the door, he stepped outside. The badger was walking toward the long driveway. “Hey!” he called out. “You can use the phone.”
“Great! Thanks!”
She ran back and, with a big smile, stepped past him into the house. He waited until he closed the door, then grabbed her around the throat and crushed her scrawny little neck. When she stopped moving, he tossed her by the stairs and walked to the office.