Page 60 of Cops and Robbers

“Don’t worry,” she said.

Something brushed by her ear, and she turned as Caige dropped his hand.

“What are you doing?” Did he turn my microphone off? She’d barely perceived it, but a single tap against the tragus muted it. When she lifted her fingers to unmute it, he seized her wrist. Fear scuttled up her spine.

Caige spoke softly. “Don’t fuck him over.”

“Who? Raz?”

“He doesn’t trust easily, and if you break that trust, you’ll be dead to him.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“He cares about you, and I don’t want to see him hurt again. He’s been through enough.” Caige released her.

Again? She had a feeling he was referring to the friend who had used him and slaughtered his clan. Kate’s tongue felt too large for her mouth, so she nodded in understanding, though her world was spinning out from beneath her feet. She knew the warning meant more than just her thievery.

What was she supposed to do? This mission meant too much. Even if she wanted to tell Raz the truth, he would look at her differently and change his mind about helping her. She betrayed Naomi—left her behind and now she was the woman who had killed his friend.

“What’s going on?” Raz asked in her ear.

She tapped her tragus to unmute her microphone and cleared her throat.

The door clapped open. “Ziegler will see you now,” the guard said.

Putting her teasing grin in place and pushing her doubts aside, Kate left the room with Caige behind her.

Through a small hallway connected to a half bathroom, they came upon a warmly lit space with brick-red and gold tapestries. The office’s dark and modest appearance and large bar gave Kate a rich mobster vibe. The guard remained outside and shut the door.

“Care to join me?” Ziegler asked, all smiles as he stood behind the bar, rummaging through a few of the transparent glass bottles.

“A whiskey on the rocks would be lovely.” As Kate braced her arm on the leather bordering, a prickle danced up her back. Ziegler wasn’t the only one watching them. In particular, the TV screen on the upper left filled her with unease. Ziegler didn’t strike her as the type to watch sports at the bar.

He grabbed two tumblers and poured an auburn liquid into them, his rings glittering in the light. “Let’s discuss our situation.”

She clutched one of the glasses.

“What an interesting plot twist with you getting, ah, stealing the information from Mrs. Sinclair’s player…” Ziegler took a drink. “I wasn’t sure how it was possible with each player’s remote access encrypted through only one access point. That was until I found”—he lifted her pink compact mirror from under the counter and slid it toward her—“this hiding behind the tower.”

“I wondered where that got off to.” Her insides dropped to the floor. Did Clyde secure the connection in time? She took the compact and opened it, showing nothing more than powder makeup. “What does this—“

He snatched the mirror from her palm and slammed it on the countertop. She jumped. Shattered plastic shards revealed a bundle of wires attached to a microchip. Caige moved closer into her periphery.

“Don’t play with me,” Ziegler whispered.

She leaned across the counter. “From my understanding, this is a Hackers Gala. The players may get the information by any means necessary. So, what if it took some help on my part? That’s handmade by my hacker. It’s fair game in my eyes.“ She brought the glass to her lips, let the stinging alcohol touch her tongue, but swallowed air as she lowered the drink.

“Well played,” Ziegler said, eyeing her and Caige. “I could accept that part, but the second part is where I have a problem.”

“I’m still checking on the integrity,” Clyde said. “I think I got through before I lost connection, but I need to verify.”

Staggering relief loosened her grip on the tumbler.

“You assume the sabotage was on my dime?” Kate asked.

“You’re the only person who had full access to all players.” He nudged toward her compact.

“As did you.”