Humor lit Rohan’s features. “This should be fun.” He released her hand and pointed to the chair next to his. “Please make yourself comfortable. This chair will give you the best vantage.”
Once everyone was seated, Liv’s nerves began to rattle again until her attention landed on Johona’s bright yellow with red polka dot socks. The rattle calmed.
“The floor is yours, Olivia.” Zeke wedged his body in the corner of a sofa, angling his body in order to have a clear view of her.
She dug into her bag for a folder, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts. Even after seven years and hundreds of presentations, she still had to mentally prepare herself to be the center of attention for a room full of people. It didn’t matter if she was in front of five people or five hundred. She had to talk herself through it.
Thankfully, she had learned to always have a list of talking points, which helped her stay focused and on point. Opening the folder, she read the first bullet, but realized she would have to give the group a little background first.
She cleared her throat. “On behalf of the Bureau, I want to thank you—”
“Save it, Olivia,” Phin said, his roguish grin gone. “We’re all aware that the FBI is essentially blackmailing us to perform this recovery.”
“Zeke also told us,” Mrs. Blackwell placed a weathered hand on Phin’s knee, “Olivia had nothing to do with Ash’s forced leave.”
Sweat dampened Liv’s palms, and she peered down at her talking points again, but the words wouldn’t come into focus. The grandmother’s words sent her mind down a dark rabbit hole.
Focus, Liv.
“I’ll start with the catalyst that brought us all to this point.”
“If you’re referring to the informant who’s bargaining information for a trinket he wants the FBI to”—Phin mimicked air quotes—“recover so they can keep some nasty shi—stuff off the streets, Zeke filled us in on that last night.”
Liv’s attention cut to Zeke. His betrayal of her confidence left her momentarily speechless.
A muscle jumped in Zeke’s jaw as he stared at his younger brother.
“What?” Phin asked. “You told us not to share the information with anyone, and I haven’t.”
Zeke shook his head, and his unflinching gaze met Liv’s. “Tell us about the item we need to recover and what you know about its current location.”
“Can I get you something to drink, Olivia?” Rohan asked, as if sensing her churning emotions. “Water? Coffee?”
“If something stronger will get you through this presentation, we have bourbon and wine,” Cruz said with a smile, though Liv thought he was only half-kidding.
Bringing alcohol into this volcanic mix wouldn’t be a good idea. “Water, please.”
Rohan stepped over to the small kitchenette at the back of the room and opened the refrigerator. “Flat or fizzy?”
“Flat.”
Liv used the beverage distraction to reorder her thoughts, but her mind kept wandering back to Zeke and his breach of her trust. All she’d wanted to do was make him understand the full impact of a “no” vote when he went back to his team.
If Mitch found out she had shared confidential information with someone not yet part of the case, he might take disciplinary steps that could damage her career.
Rohan returned with her water, and she smiled her thanks. She took a drink, glanced at her bullet list, and plunged in for the third time. “The asset you’ve been hired to recover is a one-hundred-and-ten-year-old Kämmer and Reinhardt doll.”
“A doll,” Zeke echoed in a flat voice.
“It’s German made and one of a kind. Six years ago, it sold for just under four hundred thousand dollars at auction.”
“An informant with a doll fetish,” Phin chuckled.
“Does the CI have a daughter?” Cruz asked.
“His youngest is twenty.”
“Is he—or his daughter—a collector?” Rohan asked.