Page 9 of Smoke Screen
“Morning.”
Zeke shut the laptop, something that had nothing to do with privacy and everything to do with avoiding distraction. He ran his fingers over his morning scruff. “Mom is killing me with spreadsheets. Have I mentioned how much I hate spreadsheets?”
Phin smiled. “Maybe a time or two.”
BARS hadn’t necessarily been the career of choice for Zeke, but Ash’s decision to follow his dream left Zeke in charge. Someone had to do it and he was next in line. He’d taken on the role, nearly driving them all insane trying to control every damned thing until barely six weeks ago when he’d realized he needed a life and figured out how to delegate.
On their last big job, the FBI had recruited BARS to assist on a case and Zeke had managed to fall in love with the case agent. And thank God, because their brother had been a whole lot less of a dickhead since Olivia Westcott came on the scene and moved into the Friary with her young son, Brodie.
Zeke had even gone so far as to hire Liv as their full-time art expert. She now worked for BARS, but still had spies within the Bureau.
Speaking of … Phin hadn’t seen Liv around the last few days.
“Where’s Liv been?”
“She’s staying at her bungalow in Asheville for the next few days to help the UNC professor finish cataloging the warehouse full of O’Fallon’s pilfered goods.”
“Is that the case where the politician stole priceless antiquities for decades in order to provide his kids with an inheritance?”
“That’s the one. Brodie is staying with her parents. I miss the little bugger. It’s too quiet around here.”
“Well,” Phin said, “at least you have spreadsheets to keep you busy.”
His brother laughed and flipped him off before rocking back in his chair. “How’d last night go?”
Ha. He’d love this. “As you know, Kayla’s events are like a who’s who in Charlotte politics. That weasel Blakely was there.”
Zeke groaned. “Better you than me.”
“I’d like to pound the fucker into the ground. He has the personality of a rock. How the hell does he keep getting elected?”
“Money. He can outdistance the pack with his war chest. Who else was there?”
“Kayla introduced me to a woman named Maddy Carmichael.”
“Carmichael. Why do I know that name?”
“She’s the acquisitions manager for the Thompson Presidential Center.”
Zeke snapped his fingers. “Yes. She was quoted in an article after the heist.”
“That’s what she wanted to talk to me about.”
That got big brother’s attention, and he sat forward again, resting his forearms on his desk. “Interesting.”
“Yes, sir. Hold on to your shorts. The Pierre pieces weren’t the only ones boosted. Four pieces the first lady’s granny—none other than the Queen of fucking England—loaned her are in the wind. The feds are keeping it quiet.” Phin offered a cheery grin. “International incident.”
“Ya think?”
“I’m surprised Liv didn’t tell you about it.”
Zeke shook his head. “She may not know about it if the feds have that tight of a lid on it.”
“Maddy—Ms. Carmichael—got approval from President and Mrs. Thompson to inquire about us helping.”
Zeke’s mouth fell open, then closed again.
Phin had to laugh. “Guessing that look is a good one?”
