The sudden realization was written all over Tox’s face.
“What’s up, hermano?”
“There was a guy…the day of the dumbshits. An older guy, a neighbor who stopped us to ask if Calliope was okay.”
“Highly suspicious so far,” Steady joked.
“Calliope asked him where he lived and he said the name of the street wrong.”
“Maybe he was just old.” Cam grabbed another slice.
“It’s what Steady said. He looked old, but he didn’t move old.”
“So this guy, did you get a name?”
“Yeah. Garfunkel.”
“Seriously?”
“That’s what he said.”
“He could be the guy who broke in. He was right there, right?”
“Our perp is one asshole with an old man costume.”
“Two old man costumes. The professor and the neighbor looked nothing alike.” Tox added.
“You know what’s funny?” Cam didn’t wait for a response. “The dude looking for the art walked right by the financial information sitting out on your chica’s dining room table. Meanwhile, the guys looking for that shit, banged on that tube while they’re threatening Calliope and sort of discover the art. That’s some irony right there.”
“Technically, that’s not irony,” Ren corrected.
“What is it then?”
“Fucked up.” Steady surmised.
“Well put.” Ren tipped his beer toward Steady in a half-toast before he continued. “Regardless, the perp, the smart perp, is after the art. And, if, as we suspect, he was at Columbia today disguised as a professor, then he knows Calliope no longer has what he’s looking for.”
“One less threat,” Cam concluded.
“What else is out there? What do they want? Did Twitch miss something on the flash drive?” Tox asked.
“No way. Plus the Feds have everything. Even a dumbshit would figure that out.” Ren insisted.
“Maybe there’s some encrypted code that didn’t transfer when Calliope made a copy of the flash drive for Twitch.” Tox was thinking out loud and was met with four faces which telegraphed, sorry but no.
“Then what? What do they want?”
“Does it matter?” Chat said absently around his pizza. “She’s a client. As always with clients, there are threats. Half the time we don’t have specifics; we simply protect the target from the threat. Assuming she’s just another client, that’s all we need to know.” He resumed eating.
There was a general grunt of agreement around the table. Tox tossed down a bone and pushed the half-full platter aside. The guys all just stared.
Steady broke the silence looking at the unfinished wings with concern. “What’s wrong?”
Tox cleaned his hands with a Wet Wipe and swallowed half his beer. These were his brothers, Cam and three of his eight-man SEAL squad. He could tell them anything. They cared like brothers, listened like mothers, and gave advice like fathers.
“She’s not just another client. This thing with Calliope has me all balled up.”
“You feel yourself slipping?” Ren asked.