Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

“ I don’t like it,” Rochelle said as she helped herself to more coffee. One day, Noah was going to force her to get a blood test, just to see how much caffeine ran through her veins. “Us going after their money could interfere with the prosecution’s investigation into the Demon Brothers, and the last thing we want is to jeopardize their case.”

“Plus,” Evan said, looking dejected, “technically, I’m not allowed to hack anymore. I got into a bit of trouble with the government, and Mum, who’s a big-time human rights lawyer, stepped in to cut a deal. She’s friends with Lake Benson and talked him into helping. Next thing we knew, the government made us an offer: join Benson Security or go to jail. Do not pass ‘Go.’ Do not collect two hundred dollars. Worse, never see a computer again. I chose to accept Lake’s kind offer.”

“Which government did you piss off?” Violet asked, seeming not the slightest surprised by Evan’s disclosure.

He scratched his beard. “Take your pick. I was in my activist phase and wanted to prove a point to the overlords who rule us. Next thing I knew, the FBI, SIS, and Interpol were knocking on my door.” He shrugged. “I blame Mum. When we were kids, she dragged us to every protest march she could find. You can’t feed three young boys a steady diet of ‘we must monitor our leaders and hold them to account’ and expect them not to do exactly that. Just sayin’.”

“If you can’t hack”—Violet narrowed her eyes at him—”what the hell is the point of having you around?”

“Damned if I know.” Evan shrugged. “Like I said, the choice was this or prison. It was a no-brainer.”

Violet opened her mouth to say something else, but Rochelle spoke first. “Violet, why don’t you go help Harris?”

She didn’t need to be asked twice. She was out the door in seconds. Back in London, Violet had made it clear that she saw meetings as a waste of time. Obviously, nothing had changed.

Noah considered his team. “Is it really hacking if he’s investigating a criminal’s money trail?”

Rochelle glared at him. “You’re supposed to be a good influence around here.”

Noah was offended. He was definitely one of the adults in the room. “It’s not like we’re asking him to break into the Pentagon. We’re talking about accounts set up by gang members who traffic human beings. I’d say that’s a gray area when it comes to hacking.”

Their boss plopped down in her seat and stared at Evan for a moment. She heaved a sigh. “Could you track their money? Is that something you can do?”

Evan stretched out his arms in front of him, linked his fingers, and cracked his knuckles. “In my sleep.” He flashed a cocky grin.

Rodrigo spoke up. “Their accounts are probably already being monitored by several agencies. It’s not exactly rocket science to figure out that you have to trace their money.”

“First thing they do,” Abasi agreed. “Thing is, the money ain’t so easy to trace. If the Metropolitan Police could have cracked where the James Family hid theirs, they’d have taken them down years ago.” He lifted his chin in Evan’s direction. “What makes you think you can do what governments and law enforcement can’t?”

“Ah.” Evan settled back in his chair. “You want my CV. Okay, I was first arrested when I was ten and hacked into MI6—I wanted to find out if James Bond was real.”

Noah couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him. It was exactly the kind of thing his kids would have done—if they’d had Evan’s ability.

“Sorry,” he muttered when Rochelle glared at him again.

“After that,” Evan said, “Mum encouraged me to use my skills for the greater good. She had me mess with various politicians’ computers, depending on what she was protesting at the time. Nothing malicious, you understand, mainly stupid stuff to annoy them. I hacked the education minister and made maths problems pop up every time he tried to log in. Unless he solved the problem, he couldn’t access his data. Guy was an idiot and shouldn’t have been in charge of the country’s schools. He couldn’t even solve the most basic equations.”

“Yes, Evan, we get it. You can hack.” Rochelle rubbed her temples. “And you started young.”

“I’ll skip to the good stuff. Every now and then, I’ll do some work for a government agency. Different agencies. Different governments. If it’s something that wouldn’t annoy my mum, I take on the job. It’s one of the reasons I got the option to stay out of prison. The FBI tried to recruit me, but I have standards. If a job doesn’t pass Mum’s morality test, I won’t do it.”

“To sum up, you’re saying you can hack into the Demon Brother’s finances?” Noah wanted to be clear.

“Is Iron Man a rich narcissist?”

“A simple yes or no answer, please.” Noah had begun to regret bringing up the topic.

“Yes. I just need a place to start.” Even cocked his head at Abasi. “You might be able to help me with that.”

“I know nothing about the Demons’ money,” Abasi said.

“But you might know who they’d get to launder it or which offshore bank they’d use to hide it. I only need a small thread, and then I can pull it until the whole thing unravels.”

Abasi looked intrigued. “I might have a thread or two you can try.”

Evan grinned. “Gr?—”

An alarm sounded, and everyone was on their feet and running. A red light flashed above Evan’s control center, and he spun toward it.

“Front door,” he shouted after them.

They ran down the stairs, guns drawn. Above them, Noah heard voices and knew Harris was ushering Annabelle into the panic room.

As they turned the corner to take the last flight of stairs down to the entrance, Noah saw Violet had beaten them to it. The front door was open, and she was outside.

Her gun trained on a woman who stood with her hands in the air.

“Check the street,” Rochelle ordered as they rushed through the door.

Rodrigo went left, Abasi right.

Noah backed up Rochelle and Violet, eyes scanning the street and the surrounding buildings. Nothing jumped out at him, so he turned his attention to the woman caught in Violet’s cross hairs.

It took a second for the situation to register.

The woman’s tanned skin tone had turned ashen as she stared down the barrel of the gun. She was about the same height as Violet but a little rounder. Her dark eyes were wide behind her purple-framed glasses, and her mouth was open—as though she wanted to scream but didn’t dare. She wore a hot pink shirt over black shorts, white socks, and running shoes. At her side was a large pink roller bag. And on its side was printed: Get your mind out of the gutter .

Noah lowered his gun. “Put down your weapons. She isn’t with the gang.”

“G-gang?” the woman sputtered.

“How do you know?” Violet’s voice was ice.

“The bowling ball bag’s a dead giveaway. So’s the bowling shirt. Hell, she has her team’s name embroidered on the pocket.”

Violet leaned in to read the text. “Betty’s Brigade?” She straightened. “Could be a cover. If I wanted to scout the place, I’d send in a middle-aged woman with a bowling bag. How do we even know there are balls in that bag? It’s big enough to store a shotgun.”

“May I?” Noah indicated to the pink bag, and the woman nodded her head furiously.

He rounded Violet and unzipped the bag. There were three balls inside.

“Are they real?” Violet didn’t take her eyes off her target. “Or cleverly disguised bombs?”

“Want me to throw one at you to find out?” Noah asked.

Rochelle put away her gun. “Do you have any ID on you, ma’am?”

Slowly, her eyes still on Violet and her gun, the woman lowered her hands and unzipped her small cross-body bag. She handed her wallet to Rochelle, who flipped it open.

“Janice Mason, from Alabama.” She frowned at the woman. “Why are you in Houston?”

“B-b-bowling,” the woman said.

“Violet, put down the gun,” Rochelle ordered as Abasi and Rodrigo came back around the building.

“Clear,” Abasi said.

“And this side,” Rodrigo added.

“This is obviously a false alarm,” Rochelle said to the woman as Violet reluctantly holstered her weapon. “I apologize for my security team’s reaction. We’re working as a protection detail in this building and on alert for threats. Is there a reason you came to our door?”

Janice visibly swallowed, her eyes darting between them all. “The Uber driver dropped me off at the wrong address. I’m looking for the bowling alley and just wanted directions.”

“I know where it is,” Evan said as he came through the door. He too wore hot pink and could easily have been a member of the woman’s bowling team. The only difference was that his Hawaiian shirt and shorts had colorful parrots printed all over them. “It’s beside my favorite Mexican deli. Remember that retro bowling alley I told you about? It’s pretty cool. I can take her there.”

“Count me in,” Janice muttered.

Evan reached for her bag and offered her an arm. “Come on, Janice. Let’s get you to your game.”

When she turned, the back of her shirt came into view. Embroidered on it was a large blue bowling ball with a cute yellow bird perched on top of it. Underneath, it said: Bowling, Alabama’s Other National Sport.

“That might have been a clue too,” Noah muttered to Violet.

“What kind of security team is this?” the woman asked Evan in a shaky voice as they walked away.

“The jumpy kind,” he replied.

As they made their way down the street, Rochelle caught Noah’s eye. She was all business. “When he gets back, start tracking the money. You’re right. If we don’t do something about the Demon Brothers, there’s a good chance we’ll shoot the next stranger who comes to our door.”

As Noah nodded, a window opened above them, and Logan stuck out his head. “Where’s Evan going?”

“Bowling alley,” Noah said.

“The one beside the Mexican deli?”

Noah nodded.

Logan whistled loudly, and when Evan turned, he shouted, “Get churros!”

Rochelle pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed.

Noah patted her on the shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll get better, Boss,” he said in an attempt to reassure her.

“I struggle to see how it could get any worse,” Rochelle said as she headed for the entrance.