Tommy rolled Angela’s Mercedes along the arrival curb at Sky Harbor Airport, searching for Stevie Gilpen. The FBI tech had taken the first flight out of Baltimore that morning and Tommy was there to greet him and take him to the Phoenix office. He was still wiping the sleep out of his eyes, though, and sipping coffee while he kept an eye out for Stevie.
Tommy had stopped at Starbucks and bought two cups of coffee for himself. A first. He’d never drank more than one cup a day, but today deserved a little extra push. Then he thought about Stevie and went back for another cup. Tommy had known the guy for years from working with Nick. Stevie loved technology. He liked drones and robots and artificial intelligence and would swim in computer chips if he could. But the other thing he liked was baseball, and that connected the two of them. Tommy, a lifelong Orioles fan, would always banter with Stevie about his home team. It was their thing.
Now Tommy spotted the guy walking toward the curb carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder and wearing a Mets cap, of course.
Tommy beeped and Stevie found him. A moment later, he threw his duffel bag in the back seat then sat next to Tommy.
Tommy bumped fists, then flipped the cap off Stevie’s head, forcing the tech to pick it up from the floor and place it on again.
“You still upset they picked up Morgan from the Rockies?” Stevie asked.
“No, I’m still upset the Orioles can’t spend a dime on free agents. Shit, I’m about to put together a GoFundMe campaign for the damn franchise.”
Tommy pulled out into outgoing traffic and began heading downtown, then handed Stevie his coffee. “How’s the flight?”
“Good. Thanks.”
Tommy glanced over his shoulder at the duffel bag. “You’re traveling awfully light.”
“Walt gave me a twenty-four-hour deadline.”
“Huh.”
Stevie sipped his coffee.
“You bring me what I asked?” Tommy said.
Stevie pulled a small package from his pocket and handed it to him. “Does Nick know about this?”
“He has enough to worry about.”
“I heard about Thomas and that whole baseball thing. He okay?”
Tommy yawned. “He’s fine. Julie’s doing everything to insulate him.”
“You look exhausted.”
“Yeah, a long night. To be honest, I could do without all the thrills.”
“I heard about Sal’s book. Words from the Grave . Right out of a Tom Clancy novel.”
“Yeah, Sal knew how to write a story, made it feel like it was fiction, but he spelled out all kinds of shit. Nick had some asset over in Chechnya do some prying and it all checks out.”
“I was told what toys to bring, but Nick never gave me any real direction over the phone. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Sure,” Tommy said, checking his sideview mirror and blending into traffic. “This Chechen mobster, Khasi Zelman, the guy who ordered the Perrino massacres, he decided to get involved with some local gangsters to borrow some money. Short term. He borrowed twenty million and told the gangster he’d give them thirty million back.”
“Okay.”
“So this gangster is going to meet up with Zelman today and get his money.”
“Where do I come in?”
“See, Zelman uses this cryptocurrency, I think it’s called Timeline, something like that. Anyway, he’s going to transfer the funds to pay back the gangster later today. If he pays back the gangster, then he’s all good and he makes a nice profit from his deal. But if that cryptocurrency transfer gets interrupted somehow . . .”
“Then the gangster doesn’t get paid.”
Tommy grinned at the thought.
“And Nick thinks I can hack into his computer and disrupt the transfer?”
“Something like that.”
Stevie looked over his shoulder at the duffel bag as if he were going through his list of tools. “Well, that seems reasonable on the surface, but Tommy, I can’t just hack into someone’s system without a Mac address or IP address, or something. I’m assuming you have an identifier.”
“Don’t worry, we’ve got an inside guy. Sweet kid named Nev who helped set up the system in the first place.”
Stevie let out a breath. “Thank goodness. Because Nick tends to exaggerate what I’m capable of doing.”
“Relax, I’m getting Nev once I drop you off at the office. It’ll be just fine.”
Stevie took another sip of coffee, then a made a face. “This is cold. Can we get something to eat? I’m starving.”
“Sure,” Tommy said, looking up at the overhead signs. “You like Mexican food?”
“For breakfast?”
Tommy smiled. “You haven’t been in Phoenix for a while, have you?”
“Nope.”
“I’m going to take you to Dick’s Hideaway. They have the best huevos rancheros in town.”
“Dick’s Hideaway?”
“Trust me.”
“As long as they have coffee, I’m in.”
“Hey, do you remember Sal’s daughter, Cara?”
“Of course. She’s a hottie.”
Tommy gave him a stern look.
“What? Something happen to her?”
“No, she’s fine.”
“Well, what’s wrong with you? You hooking up with her?”
“No, I am not hooking up with her,” Tommy said, checking his rearview mirror and finding nothing.
“Well, then what’s the deal? Last time I saw her was, what, six, seven years ago. You took me to Jackie’s wedding, remember? She wore that lowcut gown. She’s cute.”
Tommy nodded, having a memory of that gown and thinking she was untouchable back then. “I forgot about that. You did see her then. And, yeah, she’s cute.”
“I think we’ve established that. Where are you going with this?”
“So, I got this call from Sal about a month ago. We’d email one or twice a year to keep up or say Merry Christmas, but out of the blue he calls me and wants to talk about Cara. He tells me that he wants me to take care of her. Make sure she’s safe. I tell him, of course I’ll take care of her, I mean, I live in Baltimore and she’s in LA, but sure, I’ll do my best.
“Now, fast forward a month and Cara calls me to meet for dinner because she’s in Baltimore. I think, great, I’d love to see her, except one thing leads to another and . . .”
“You hooked up with her.”
“Will you stop saying that. We didn’t hook up. We had a mutually romantic experience.”
“Uh huh. I’m following.”
“Well, here’s the thing. All of a sudden Sal is killed and I’m stuck with this task of taking care of his precious daughter and somehow I can’t get that out of my mind.”
“You’re feeling guilty about your relationship.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s understandable. You’ve known the Perrinos your entire life. I’d feel the same way. It’s human nature. You think he suspected something was coming and that’s why he reached out to you?”
“Of course that’s what happened, only I was too dense to pick up on it at the time.”
“Well, you know what this means, don’t you?”
“What?”
“It means you have genuine feelings for Cara and if she feels the same about you, then you have something very special. It’s not a quick fling. I’m guessing Sal would approve of that.”
Tommy changed lanes, then got off on the 16th Street exit. He said nothing, thinking about the entire situation and hoping Stevie was right.
“Except,” Stevie added, “Sal isn’t here to give you his blessing, is he?”
“Nope.”
“And that bothers you.”
“Yup.”
“It’s a Sicilian thing, huh?”
“I don’t know, it’s just . . . well, I haven’t been in a long-term relationship for . . .”
“Ever?”
“Stop it.”
“You want my opinion?”
“Please.”
“I think Sal was reaching out to you, hoping you two might hit it off. I think in the back of his mind he was thinking you two would be a great match. You didn’t really believe he wanted you to be her security guard, did you?”
“No,” Tommy said, turning right into the Dick’s Hideaway parking lot and finding a spot by the entrance. “I didn’t get that feeling at all.”
“If you think back on that conversation, I’ll bet you discover something very subtle about what he was telling you.”
“Hmm.” Tommy shut off the car and looked at Stevie. “I’m glad we talked.”
“Me too.”
Tommy examined the parking lot before getting out of the car.
As they walked toward the entrance, Stevie said, “Why are you checking everything out? Are we in danger?”
Tommy put his arm around the FBI tech and said, “You ever get in trouble while hanging out with me?”
“Oh shit,” Stevie said. “It’s worse than I thought.”