Page 72 of Code Name: Harbor

“She’s gone to him,” I say.

“You don’t know that, boss.”

“I know it.”

Marcus shakes his head. “Connie can be flighty, sure. And she’s got a temper. You know that as well as I do. But it’s not the first time she’s gotten in a mood and went off grid. She did it after Jim’s funeral. She did it the week you took that gallery girl on a date and countless other times when she’s gotten in a snit. It’s what she does.”

He’s not wrong about that, but none of those other times has she threatened someone I care about. “Yeah, but she’s never not shown up for a run meeting. Say what you want about her moods, but she’s never let me down when it comes to work.”

“She’s hurting more than usual,” Marcus reasons. “She knows that Josie’s the one and it’s put a final end to her fantasies that you’ll see her as more than a friend one day.”

“You think I don’t know that? But a hurt Connie is one I don’t trust.”

Marcus picks up his coffee and drinks again. The thing about Marcus is he doesn’t argue when he doesn’t have ground to stand on. He goes quiet and pensive, and the message is clear. I hear you. I don’t agree. I’m not going to fight you on it.

“All right,” he finally says, hands spread wide. “Walk me through what you think she’s done.”

More fire in my chest and an angry churning in my gut. “She went to Mikhail and told him she had information about the girl in the water. I’m sure she attempted to get reassurances to keep you and me safe in exchange for the valuable information. I’m sure she downplayed our roles and I’m confident she didn’t tell Mikhail that I’m in a relationship with Josie. She’d stupidly think she was keeping you and me safe, but Mikhail is going to slaughter anyone harboring Josie. Connie’s too fucking stupid to realize she’s at risk too. Mikhail’s not above taking her out once he gets the info.”

Marcus grimaces. “That’s a theory.”

“It fits.”

“It fits one version of Connie… the possibility of betrayal. But what about her loyalty?”

“It fits the version of Connie I created when I told her in the alley what would happen if she made that call. A woman scorned and all that…”

Marcus considers it. His coffee thermos has the same coffee-stain ring on the lid it’s had for the last three months because he refuses to replace it. He says it gives it character.

“If she’s gone to him,” he says slowly, “what’s the play?”

“The play is to keep Josie safe and hope to fuck those feds can take Mikhail and Voronin down sooner rather than later.”

“She at work today?”

“Yeah, and it’s where she’s safest. That building’s a fortress. She told me you can’t even get in without retinal scans. She’s safer in there than anywhere else in the city.”

“And when she’s not in the building?”

“She’s with me. Always with me. I moved her in the day after the gallery event.”

Marcus lowers his eyes to his thermos, a goofy smile on his face. He’s known me for nine years and in all that time, he hasn’t seen a woman at my house for more than a weekend. Now there’s a toothbrush next to mine in the bathroom, her laptop’s on my dining table and her shoes are by my front door. I came down to make coffee this morning and the kitchen smelled like her. I stood at the counter, registered the change, and decided right there and then that I was going to spend the rest of my life with that smell in my kitchen if she’d let me.

“No offense, boss, because you’re badass and all that, and I know you’re packing, but you want me to stick by you guys? Extra gun? I can move in with you.”

I shake my head quickly. It’s an offer I knew he would make, just as I knew I’d decline it. Not about to put anyone else I care about at risk, and next to Josie, Marcus is the person I’m closest to in this world. “No. I need you to keep things going, especially on this Tuesday run.”

Speaking of which.

“Let’s go through the plan,” I say, redirecting. “Coast Guard rotation hasn’t shifted—my guy at the station ran the latest cutter pattern last week. We’re good on the window.”

“Two-fifteen to four-forty.”

“Pickup at midnight on the Canadian side in Steveston. Run dark. Hand off at Walt’s by oh-five hundred. Same plan as we ran with the de Hooch.”

“And the transfer to the buyer?”

“He wants the figurine in Burlingame by Thursday end of day. Private jet handles the leg after Walt’s.”