Page 113 of Smoke Screen
Zeke gawked. “When have Ieverquestioned your loyalty? Are you high?”
“I asked the same thing,” Cruz added.
“And I’ll tell you the same thing I told Cruz. No. I’m not high. I’m about as clearheaded as I’ve been since Ash went to the feds. I gave up my career aspirations to be here.”
“No one forced you.”
“Right. And who the hell was gonna do it? Cruz? I think we’ve just seen that he’s the king of inappropriate.”
“Damn straight,” Cruz said. “No argument there.”
Zeke shot him a look. “You’re not helping.” He came back to Phin. “So … what? You want out? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“No.”
Tipping his head back, Zeke stared up at the ceiling. “Nearly four a.m., I’m tired. Help me not murder him.”
Cruz laughed and sat back again, propping his feet on the table to enjoy the show.
“Zeke,” Phin said, “I’m not trying to make you insane. Yeah, I think too much, but this last week? Watching Maddy lose the job —”
“She didn’t lose it.”
“Fine. Watching her be put on leave when she loves that job. You saw it. That first day when we toured the space, you saw her passion. She comes alive talking about the exhibits. I don’t have that. I don’t hate what I do for BARS. For the most part, I enjoy the work. The recoveries. Working with my family. The schedule. But I’m not passionate about it. I don’t wake up excited every morning, and that’s gotta change.”
“I agree. How do we make that happen for you?”
If Cruz was the brother always willing to offer a pass, Zeke was the solution-finder. Always. No matter what it meant for him personally, he’d figure out a way to help.
“I don’t know. I have room in my schedule to work for BARS and do something that makes me feel …” He paused, searching for the word. For that one thing he needed. “Inspired.”
“Okay. Obviously, we’ll need to talk to Rohan about this.” He jerked his chin at Cruz. “I’m gonna assume you’re okay with him possibly working part-time for BARS?”
“I’m good. We’ve got Neuman almost up to speed, so that helps. We need Phin working his contacts. Everything else we can handle on our own.”
“Thank you,” Phin said.
Cruz met his eye. “For wanting you to be satisfied? No one in this house should thank anyone for that. We all deserve it. No question.”
“Figure out what you want,” Zeke said. “I’ll support it. As long as you can give BARS some time for business development and working your contacts, we’re good. Life’s too fucking short, Phin. Now, what did you call me down here for?”
Back to business. Thank God. Phin pointed at his laptop still sitting in front of Cruz, who shoved it close enough for Phin to cue up the video.
He slid it to Zeke and hit play. “Take a look.”
Seconds later, Zeke tapped the mouse pad and peered up at Phin. “Who is he?”
“Thompson’s nephew. Louis Three. Thompson hired him as an intern in the executive suite. Don’t scream at me for what I’m about to say. I should have told you. That’s on me. I apologize.”
Zeke whirled a finger. “Get on with it.”
Excellent. No lecture. Maybe he should wake Zeke up in the middle of the night more often if it got him off the hook so easily.
Phin nodded. “When the feds questioned Maddy, they showed her a video of one perp—the now very dead one—entering her apartment. He had a key.”
To his credit, Zeke sat still, taking in the information, while a muscle in his jaw jumped. Big brother was definitely pissed.
“Oh-kay. That’s why you wanted the additional security footage?”
