by Karen Diem
“Hey!” both women said at once.
“Why are you my friends again?” Zita complained.
Wyn curled her feet up and spoke to no one, or perhaps to her cats. “I’m glad it’s over. Did Sobek say why he attacked the hospital? Did they get the notebook?”
Rubbing the top of her head, Zita paused before answering. “Miguel never says much about cases, but he told me to stay vigilant. His bosses pulled him from the Sobek case for obvious reasons, and the hospital is an active DMS investigation. From what I overheard during my imprisonment in his office, the hospital attack was organized and professional. They had this whole flowchart on the probable expense of the hospital operation compared to Sobek’s estimated income, and it was out of his league. He was a drug dealer and smuggler who added human trafficking to his sick portfolio. I wasn’t able to find out anything about the notebook or the destination of the kidnapped people.”
A cat leapt onto the side table and licked the mouth of Andy’s bottle. More stealthily, the other feline eased his plate toward the edge of the table. The man looked at his juice and sighed. Purring, the first cat challenged his stare, and licked a drop of condensation. Andy rolled his eyes and screwed the lid back on the bottle. “Overheard? It sounds like you went through their files.”
Wiping succulent sauce off her mouth after a particularly large bite, Zita grinned and held up a couple fingers, an inch apart. “Perhaps a little. I was bored, and went into the wrong conference room once or twice on practice runs before I actually snuck out.”
Wyn threw a chocolate at her. “You were bored and jonesing for action.”
“Why would I let bad things happen to anyone if I can stop them? That said, I like to enjoy myself, not cause trouble.” Catching the food, Zita eliminated that ammunition from Wyn’s arsenal forever. She bounced, remembering something she had overheard. “Oh, and Wyn? Boris survived! He’s in protective custody, begging for a plea bargain.”
Wyn beamed.
Before the other woman could do more than open her mouth to reply, Andy jerked his chin at the television. “Ears burning, anyone? They’re talking about us again.” He rescued his plate seconds before the sneaky cat could nudge it onto the floor.
They turned their attention to the television. Familiar with wild animals, Zita kept some of her attention on the food so the cats could not steal it. When the newscasters announced the police were seeking leads to persons of interest, Wyn fetched a small glass bottle from the other room, and poured a dollop into her tea. The other two both refused when she offered them some.
Wyn was the first to speak after a sip of her adulterated tea. “It’s not surprising security camera footage of Zita and Aideen is blurry, but I had expected better footage of you given how long you hung from that rope, Andy. The news helicopters were circling by the time we escaped.”
“At least we know your illusion holds up well under cameras, though. You’re in most of the shots,” Zita offered. She crunched and chewed, letting the flavors swirl over her tongue. When the reporter gave a description and showed a bad image of Pretorius, she nearly spat out her food. “Wait, I thought you took Pretentious P down?” she asked, looking at Andy.
“He ran off after Andy grabbed the rope. Everyone was busy watching that, and then you went after the driver. Pretorius might’ve been pretending unconsciousness,” Wyn suggested. She paused, teacup halfway to her lips when the perky commentator discussed the persons of interest. When the reporter declared the unknown blond woman led the gang opposing Pretorius, her mouth fell open. While they had no name for Wyn, they identified her associates as Fireball, Arca, and Mano. Shaking her head, she added another dollop to her cup.
A line etched itself on Andy’s forehead. He swallowed a bite of pizza. “Why is she the leader? And why are they calling me Mano and you Arca?”
“How pissed do you think Aideen is to be included with us and under Wyn’s command?” Zita asked.
“I can only answer one of those questions.” Closing her eyes, Wyn massaged her forehead. Concentration stilled her features. “Zita called you Mano in front of Aideen and some of those drug dealers, and she made a comment about being an arca. They must’ve given statements.” Opening her eyes, she hummed at one of the cats stalking Andy’s plate. She took a sip of her tea as the cat began grooming.
“Oh, right. Aideen referred to you as that at one point too. Wyn’s the most photogenic, so of course she’s in charge.” Zita took another healthy bite. Bird practice earlier must have burnt thousands of calories. She was starving.
He snorted. “I see. Still, what kind of name is ‘Mano’?”
“It doesn’t matter who they say ran things or what they call us, provided they’re wrong. At least now my gang has other members!” Zita grinned. “Seriously, when will we ever have to do that again?” She popped the last of the slice in her mouth.
Andy groaned and hid his face in his hands. “We’re doomed. I better think of a name.”
From The Author
Thank you for reading!
If you enjoy this or any other book, please consider writing a review on it, positive or negative. Reviews help other readers find books, and let authors know what they’re doing right (or wrong).
For the latest on past and future releases, sign up for my newsletter on my website, www.karendiem.com. You can also use the website to contact me, browse free content (cut scenes, sample chapters, my abbreviated autobiography, and more), or find me on social media sites (Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest). Since I’d hate to read the same stuff everywhere, I do try to put different content on each place. New release notices are the exception and go everywhere.
