Page 63 of Philly
“Or maybe she didn’t catch it because they were from different cultures?” Philly suggested.
“It was a French reference she made,” Sabina responded.
“Right,” he conceded, reminding himself to never question Sabina. “If we assume she was an adult, but not old enough to get the reference, you must have an age range for her?”
“No older than twenty when the bomb went off,” Leo replied.
“And yes, we’re looking at the victims. It’s possible she set Liza up by claiming she’d meet her at the bar, then never showed. But it’s also possible that the Operation Nationalists knew she was an informant and either didn’t stop her or sent her there to die, too.”
The four of them pondered the possibilities for several seconds before Callie asked, “Is there anything more we can be doing? We have time. We can skip some of the activities.”
“No, you’re doing what needs to be done,” Sabina said with no room in her tone to argue. “Every drip of information you get from Joseph is helping. And building a relationship with him, not only Rian, will serve us better in the long run.”
“When the shit hits the fan, he’ll think we befriended him solely for information. That’s not likely to endear us to him,” Callie said, her opinion on the situation clear in her tone.
“Of course he’ll think that,” Sabina replied, not the least offended. “But unless you think he’s hiding his true self from you, his innate goodness and desire to be genuine will win out over any little butthurt he might feel. And Rian will be there to talk him around, too.”
Callie turned to him, mouthing “butthurt,” then stifled a laugh.
He grinned. “Right. So, on that note, we’re due to meet Joe at the cave bar before dinner. We’ll check in tomorrow?”
“We’ll have the data from the iPad sorted by then,” Leo said.
“Enjoy yourselves,” Sabina said. “And that king-size bed,” she added before hanging up.
Philly winced, then hazarded a glance at Callie.
“Is my boss playing matchmaker?” she asked, two deep lines etched between her eyes.
Philly lifted a shoulder. “She has a bit of a reputation for doing that.”
Callie’s gaze drifted toward the sliding doors. He held still, unsure what mood would take hold. She had every right to be annoyed, even uncomfortable.
After a beat, she cocked her head, then looked at him. “That’s weird, right? I’ve only ever worked at the FBI, never at a private company, let alone a family-run one.”
“Yeah,” he said on an exhale. “It’s a little weird. But the Warwicks are a little,” his voice trailed off as he sought the right word.
“Obsessive about family, and they perceive everyone who works at HICC as family?”
“Yeah, that. Once you’re in, they don’t really give you much choice, whether you want it or not.”
She stared out the sliding door again, and again, he waited. Finally, she sighed. “That’s a deeper question than I want to ponder right now. Right now, I want a prickly pear margarita.”
34
“How on earth did Dulcie carry two little girls, a mama goat, and her two kids?” Callie asked, not bothering to suppress a soft chuckle. She and Gabriel were back in their cabin, once again lying on the big bed, facing each other, telling stories. Well, Gabriel was telling stories. His were much more interesting—and fun—than the ones that went on inside her head if he didn’t distract her.
“He has three younger sisters. He’s a sucker for little girls. The second they told him they couldn’t leave their goat and the kids behind, he made it happen,” Gabriel answered, his voice a low rumble in the dark. With the moonlight streaming in through the open curtain, she could see the general features of his face but not the details. No doubt his eyes were twinkling at the memory, though.
“If you want specifics, he draped the goat around his shoulders, handed one of the kids to each girl, then picked the girls up,” he added.
“And they made it?”
“Would I tell you a bedtime story with a bad ending?”
No, he wouldn’t. When he didn’t continue, though, she realized he wanted her to say it. “No, you wouldn’t.” She felt, more than saw, him smile, and a terrifying kind of hopefulness rolled through her.
“We got out of the village, the whole team and the family of twelve our targets had been holding hostage?—”
