Theo flashed a smile at the term that Sylvie had used when describing her second layer of clothing.
“What are you? Eighty?” Theo laughed when Sylvie would have slapped him in the abdomen with the back of her hand. He’d warded off her light attack with the back of his left hand. “My grandmother used to say long johns.”
“That is so not what I thought long johns meant,” Bit muttered in confusion as he stood from the table, pushing back his chair. Sylvie waited until he took a few steps toward the doorway before closing the distance and tucking his chair back into its rightful place. She hated disorganization, and yet she was closest to Bit, who was the epitome of disorganization. Technically, he thrived on organized clutter, but only he knew the specific order in which he kept his own workspace. Maybe opposites did attract. “All this time, I thought—“
“Brook?”
Kate couldn’t have interrupted at a more perfect time.
Theo and Sylvie were still smiling as Kate stepped around Bit with a blue envelope in her hand, holding the corner of it with a tissue. Brook slowly set her coffee cup down on the table, not caring if it was directly on the surface or a coaster. It wasn’t that she hadn’t known this moment would come, but anytime that Jacob reached out to her was a rude awakening to her nervous system.
“This was sent to you by courier.” Kate attempted to carefully hand off what had to be some type of card. At least, that’s what Brook determined it to be, but there was no reason to be careful. It didn’t matter if her brother’s prints were on the envelope or even the card itself. “I asked who sent it, but the courier said a nondescript gentleman on the street paid him a hundred dollars to have it delivered here.”
A part of Brook was immensely relieved that Jacob hadn’t failed in his performance when it came to the milestones in her life. Once again, she grasped just how sick and twisted their relationship was in the grand scheme of things.
“Brook?”
Theo had stepped forward while Bit and Sylvie stood next to one another as they stared in disbelief at the blue envelope. Either they couldn’t believe that Jacob would actually send a bereavement card to his sister or they were having trouble accepting that she knew her brother so well.
She slipped her finger underneath the edge that hadn’t been glued together. The tugs against the remaining adhesive camouflaged the slight tremor in her hand. Once the seal was broken, she pulled out the bereavement card. Without reading the words on the front, she opened it up to read the personal message that Jacob had written inside.
Your grief is heavy, but know that I am here. I’m always with you, dear sister.
Chapter Six
Brooklyn Sloane
February 2023
Monday — 6:31pm
“AreyousayingthatJacob Walsh is in Washington, D.C.?”
Brook closed her eyes and willed herself not to react to Agent Russell Houser’s question.
She couldn’t have been clearer in her reason for reaching out to him, yet it was as if he refused to hear the meaning behind her words. Her brother would not have willingly left his hunt to locate Sarah Evanston, but she also couldn’t bring herself to believe that her father’s death had any influence. At the same time, it was oddly reassuring that her brother was such a creature of habit.
“Yes,” Brook repeated into the phone for the third time in the span of five minutes. She used her thumb to twirl the outer part of her worry ring. “Jacob is here in the city. At least, he was earlier today. I’ve said this before, and I will say it again—my brother is playing chess while you’re playing checkers, Agent Houser.”
He had been insistent that they be on a first name basis, but she couldn’t bring herself to familiarize their relationship. She didn’t approve of the way he handled his cases, and he certainly didn’t have the intellectual prowess it took to apprehend Jacob Walsh.
Some would say that her opinion of Agent Houser was harsh, but facts were facts.
“Aren’t you the one who said that your brother wouldn’t give up searching for Evanston?”
“And I stand by those words, which means that Jacob already has a plan in place. Which poses the question—are you going to walk willingly into Jacob’s carefully crafted decoy?” Brook paused, giving Agent Houser a chance to reply. When he didn’t, she decided that she’d done her civic duty. She’d alerted the agent in charge of her brother’s case, and now she could carry on with her own plans. “Give me a call when you arrive in the city.”
Brook slowly set the receiver of the desk phone back into its cradle without giving Agent Houser the ability to say another word. She didn’t doubt that Agent Houser would be catching the first flight out of Boston. He would want to be where Jacob was last seen, which meant that the courier who had simply wanted to earn some additional cash would be paid a visit by a federal agent as soon as tomorrow morning. Brook wouldn’t waste her time on such drivel.
“Boss?”
Bit was standing in the doorway of her office with an electronic tablet in his hand. Upon Brook reading aloud her brother’s message, Bit had immediately returned to his so-called office. It was technically one of the largest rooms within the design, and it was filled with enough computer and technical equipment to rival any office of the same size at the NSA.
Bit had a tendency to cross the line when it came to those he loved or admired, such as his sister. She had been the sole reason that he’d gone to work for a Russian racketeer named Kuzmich. Now that Brook gave it more thought, she wondered if Kuzmich had anything to do with Ann’s current investigation involving organized crime.
“Yes, Bit?”
“I was able to figure out which courier took the bribe from Jacob.” Bit crossed her office and handed off the tablet. “Once Kate told me the name of the service and the courier’s name, it was like taking candy from a baby. I searched online for—“