Page 33 of An Eye For Illusion

I turn into a parking lot that’s right across the street and watch as Moore gets out of the car and heads into the building. I turn the car off and crack the windows as I settle in.

“I’m sure. It’s the only real chance I have to catch Moore and put this assignment behind me.”

I’m not accustomed to chasing my tail like a dog. I usually get to work, compile evidence, turn it over to my client, and then I’m on my way. The longest case I’ve worked was for Andrew Shaw. That case took years to compile enough evidence to get the outcome Andrew was looking for.

Donovan releases a heavy sigh. “I know a guy who can get you in…get us in. I’ve known him for years, and he knows who I really am. But I’m telling you, Colin… Don’t ever underestimate this job or these people. They will gut you and move on like it’s another fucking Tuesday.”

“I hear you, man, and I appreciate the warning, but I can handle it.”

I’d be lying if I say I’m not nervous, but I can’t let it show. Donovan will pull the plug on the whole thing if he senses an ounce of fear. Being afraid when dealing with hardened criminals won’t just give you away; it’ll get you killed.

“Frankie knows I’m out of the game, but I did a stint in prison and never gave up any of their names. He knows he can trust me. I’m sort of playing both sides bringing you in…” His voice trails off like he’s still considering what he’s doing.

“I wouldn’t ask, but I don’t know another way.” I feel a twinge of guilt putting Donovan in this position.

“Shucks, Colin, don’t get all sappy on me now. It’s just business. This isn’t the first time I’ve risked my neck… and it probably won’t be the last,” he says with a groan.

“Fucker. You had me over here thinking you were feeling guilty about your friend.”

“Hey, I didn’t say Frankie is my friend. I said I know a guy, and the guy I know is Frankie.”

Smartass.

Moore’s schedule was rather lax today. That financial service firm was one of the few things on it. The other meetings listed I’ve followed him to before. I’ll be sitting here for hours while waiting for him to walk back out with a big stupid grin on his face. Probably closed a deal worth stacks of cash.

“So, what’s the plan?” I’m on pins and needles wondering what Donovan has come up with. He and I are opposite in most ways.

“Damn, kid, I gotta come up with the plan, too? Shit, what do you plan to do?” he asks with a booming laugh.

I laugh with him; he’s better at the life of crime shit than I am.

“I mean, you have the… experience,” I choose my words carefully.

“Fuck you, Colin.” He laughs.

“Hey, man, you said it. Only one of us has been to prison. Besides, I know you’ve been sitting around bored without an assignment. I’m sure you’ve come up with something.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Okay, you’re going to be Jax, a car guy. Brush up on knowledge of rare and unique cars and know what the fuck you’re talking about. If you don’t know, be the cocky son of a bitch you are and make them believe you’re right.”

I’d laugh, but he isn’t joking at all. Donovan has let bits of the puzzle making up his past slip out over the years. But there are never enough pieces to allow any one of us to get the full picture. If I had to guess, Liam knows. I can’t imagine he didn’t do deep dives on all our backgrounds before hiring us. Donovan’s background gives him an edge the rest of us don’t have.

“Okay, I can do that. I know a little about cars from a previous case, but I can learn more. Are we talking imports or American muscle?” I ask, wanting to be sure I don’t fuck this up.

“Both, be on the safe side and know some about both,” he says earnestly. “And don’t show up dressed in a suit or anything stupid. These guys smell bullshit from a mile away. Maybe I should bring you something over to wear.”

“Pssh, I fucking got this. Besides, these muscles wouldn’t fit in your slim clothes.” I take a jab at him. Donovan isn’t a small guy by any stretch, but I’m more cut than he is.

“You fucking wish!” he hollers before laughing again.

I catch movement when the front door of the financial firm swings open and Elliott walks out. A chesty brunette follows behind him. A chesty brunette who isn’t dressed like she’s going out to crunch numbers. I’m pretty sure I saw an areola as she leaned down slide into the passenger side of Moore’s car.

“You son of a bitch,” I say in a lowered voice.

“Come again?” Donovan asks. I forgot he was even on the phone.

“I’ll call you back.” I end the call without waiting for a response.

I put my car into drive as Moore’s car pulls out of the parking lot and takes a right. I pull out onto the street a number of car lengths behind him. Who the hell is this woman? I rack my brain to remember if I’ve seen him with her before, but I come up empty.

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