“The theft happened in our territory. We need to track it down to make it clear people can’t do that kind of high-profile business here without going through our family.”
“You want me to go get the information right now?”
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
“Do you have to be so bossy?”
“Lancelot, this is serious,” Remington snarled.
“Where is this information?”
“At the Platt Historical Library.”
Was he fucking serious? “It’s at a library?”
“Yes, one for historical collections.”
“What the fuck kind of hiding place is that?”
“The one I worked out with my contact.”
“Jesus Christ. I have a date with an adventurous dancer, and you want me to cancel it to go to a library?”
Remy ignored me. “The information I need has been placed in one of the archives. In order to get it, you’re going to have to speak to the librarian in charge of that area.”
“If I can handle gunrunners and drug dealers, I think I can manage to get past a librarian.”
“You’re not going to ‘get passed’ him. You’re going to request information like any other patron. Then you’re going to remove what we need after pretending to search through the available material for at least half an hour. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself.”
“What the hell difference does it make? Why should I sit there wasting my time?”
“Lance, just listen to me on this.”
Did Remington get more insufferable every day, or was it my imagination? “All right. I go up to a desk and ask a librarian for some information. How hard can that be?”
“The man who works at the desk is known for being… persnickety. He’s very protective of the materials in his collection, so don’t ruffle his feathers.”
“Are you serious? Why don’t you just go yourself if this is so delicate?”
“I’ve been there before. Someone might recognize me.”
“In other words, you’ve been in there and caused trouble.”
“I might have been more insistent about getting access to certain materials than their average patron.”
Trust my brother to have gotten himself banned from a fucking library. “You mean I have to do this because you had some hissy fit over some boring old piece of—”
“It wasn’t boring, and… yes.”
“Why not get Corbin to do it?” He deserved it after making me see the show he and Beau were putting on. “He’s quite a charmer.”
“So are you, as you well know. Corbin’s busy, and I want you on this.”
He was busy getting fucked on someone else’s kitchen counter. “Are you punishing me for something?”
“No, I’m trusting you and your acting skills. By the way. No monkey.”
“You know Tony hates to wait in the car.”
“Tony should wait at home.”
That wasn’t happening. “Do I really have to go now? I’m supposed to be showing Corbin another house.”
Just then my phone beeped. It was a text from Corbin. We want to put in an offer on this one.
“Never mind. They found the one they want.”
“See? Now your schedule is free.”
It wasn’t, but I didn’t bother reminding my brother that I was supposed to be on a date. Instead, I’d be pandering to some stick-up-his-ass librarian instead of getting rid of the restless feeling I’d had for days. Sometimes I hated my brothers.
“Fine, I’ll do this, but if there needs to be a return visit to the library, Corbin can handle it.”
“This should be a one-time deal. I’ll text you the details you need.”
I ended the call and offered Tony one of the pieces of dried fruit I had in my pocket. “Come on. We’re going to the library.”