Page 27 of August

“Exactly.” August nodded. “I got a name from the assassin. As soon as I get Gigi settled, I’ll have the team get to work.”

Ivy’s troubled expression didn’t lighten. She got up to add something to a slow cooker, and August and Rami began discussing logistics. Ten minutes later, a horn honked outside.

August pushed away from the counter and met Rami’s eyes. “Be on the lookout.”

“No shit.”

“I mean it. Just because one assassin is dead doesn’t mean they haven’t already sent more. Can’t let down our guard.” There was always the chance they were being watched. Carting Gigi around while going to his office and to his house for new clothes and supplies was too risky. It was better she stayed in one spot until they could get her to the downtown apartment.

“They come here and they’re dead, bro,” Rami promised. “End of story.”

August blew out a breath. “I hope so.” He made his way to Taschen’s waiting vehicle.

His friend slid a smile his way as August got in the front seat. “Hey, dude. You look like shit.”

“Back at ya, Scarface.”

Taschen touched the rough skin on the side of his face. “Mine adds character. Yours carries a smell.”

August buckled his seatbelt. “Can you be serious for a minute?”

“What, still hung up on your afternoon swim?”

He didn’t bother rolling his eyes this time. “You sound like Rami. I bet you two had a good laugh.”

“I fucking died when Rami told me you sank one of the SUVs in the river—after I knew you and Gigi were okay, of course. Dude, you trying to kill the company or what?” Taschen backed out of the driveway.

“Toth totaled a vehicle, too, when he was protecting Savannah,” August said petulantly. “It’s why we’ve got insurance.”

Taschen just chuckled. “Where to first?”

“The office. I need my own vehicle so I can get rid of you.”

Taschen let out a guffaw of laughter and headed downtown. The clock on the dash read 4:48 p.m. Rush hour. Half an hour later, they reached the office building and rode the elevator to the eleventh floor. Backcountry Protection Services monopolized all of it.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door with a frosted-glass window, they entered the company’s waiting area. “Did Pearl leave for the day?”

Pearl, their receptionist, was practically the backbone of the company. She lived for running a smooth schedule and, according to Toth, kept their books impeccable. Pearl was a godsend, and her presence in the workplace was like that of a stern grandmother. She often brought baked goods or had meatballs or her famous lasagna in the slow cooker in the staff room.

“She’s out with a cold.”

August winced. “Must be bad. Nothing short of the plague would make her call in sick.”

“Hey,” a chipper female voice chimed. “I didn’t know you were coming back.”

August glanced at the hallway to see young woman who looked a little like Taschen.

“Just brought this doofus over to grab a burner phone and a new ride,” Taschen said.

The woman made a giant O with her lips. “You must be August,” she said, with a knowing smile.

August chuckled. “I see you’ve heard of me.”

“Just heard you totaled a car. I’m Dana, Taschen’s sister.”

“You workin’ here?” he asked, as he made his way down the hall toward the utility room, where they kept extra weapons, surveillance gear, burner phones, and keys to whatever company vehicles weren’t in use.

“Dana recently left the FBI,” Taschen said proudly. “She’s a new addition to the team. Her investigative and computer skills rival Dare’s.” They often reached out to Toth’s brother for help on select cases.

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