Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun (Finlay Donovan, #3)(9)

Maybe Vero was right. Like it or not, we were still in possession of Feliks’s car. With any luck, we’d be able to sell enough of the Aston to get Marco off her back. And if the car was scattered far and wide, then all that would be left was a piece of paper connecting me to Feliks Zhirov. As soon as Feliks was shipped off to prison, I’d find a way to destroy that, too.

“Okay,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Set up the meeting with Javi.”





CHAPTER 4


My sister, Georgia, knocked on my door promptly at eight the next morning. When I opened it, she brushed past me into my kitchen and helped herself to a mug of coffee from the pot.

“It’s good to see you, too,” I said, passing her the carton of milk from the fridge.

Georgia’s shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a fancy twist, her slacks were pressed, and a pair of low heels peeked out from under the hems.

“If I’d known you had something important to do, I wouldn’t have asked you to drive Delia to school.”

“It’s nothing important. Just a normal day,” she said, stirring her coffee hard enough to make a few drops swirl over the rim. “Where’s Vero?”

“Upstairs in her room.”

“Why couldn’t she drive Delia this morning?”

“She’s … not feeling well,” I said, fumbling over the lie. Georgia stopped stirring. My sister wasn’t necessarily a germaphobe, but she didn’t cope well with contagious diseases. Knife injuries, gunshot wounds, and blunt force trauma she could handle at close range. Snot, the runs, and projectile vomiting was enough to send her running for the hills. “Cramps,” I added.

The tension left her shoulders and she nodded into her coffee. I’d called my sister the night before, right after I’d called Steven. Vero couldn’t take Delia to school in the Charger, and letting her drive my minivan was far too risky. The person who’d taken that picture of Vero could track my license plates here.

I’d considered letting Delia stay home for the day, playing it safe until Steven’s flight got in from Philly and he came to pick up the kids, but then I’d had another idea. If the creep who took that photo was waiting at the school and saw Delia get out of my sister’s car—a car with a few extra antennas on the roof and a dome light on the dash—maybe he’d have second thoughts about stalking my children’s nanny.

“Why couldn’t you take Delia?” Georgia asked.

“I have a meeting with Sylvia.” My sister raised an eyebrow at my snowman-themed pajama bottoms. “It’s a Zoom,” I said, doubling down on the lie. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“I have a meeting this morning, too. It’s not a big deal.” Her cheeks were pink and her lips were glossy. She avoided my curious stare, picking a lint fuzz off her sweater. It was a deep hunter green that brought out the flecks of it in her eyes.

“Holy shit, Georgia!” I shoved her shoulder. Coffee sloshed over the rim of her mug and she swore as she mopped a few drops from the toes of her shoes. “You’re seeing someone at work!”

“I’m not seeing someone at work.”

“At the lab, then?” I racked my brain, struggling to remember the last time I’d been there with Nick. “Is it a tech?”

“No,” she said gruffly.

“The M.E.?”

She pulled a face.

“That cute toxicologist?”

“Stop trying to guess. You don’t know her.”

“I knew it! You are seeing someone! When do I get to meet her?”

Georgia held up a finger. “A, we’re not seeing each other. And B, you don’t.”

“Why don’t you invite her over for dinner?” I suggested. “Vero and I will cook.”

“Finlay—”

“What are you so afraid of, Georgia? Do you seriously think I’d embarrass you? You wore SWAT gear to Thanksgiving at Mom’s. You do a perfectly fine job of embarrassing yourself.”

“I said I’m not seeing her, okay?” Georgia’s tone had sharpened to a brittle edge. I’d never known my sister to be fragile and the sound of it startled me. She drew a calming breath through her nose as I blinked at her. “I’m just handling something for Nick. He’s all tied up with this big project at work, so I offered to help him out. That’s all.” My sister had always been a horrible liar. She and Nick had been close since they’d attended the police academy together years ago, but the effort she’d put into her hair this morning betrayed her motivations. “Speaking of Nick, why haven’t you called him back?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I didn’t,” she said. “That was a perfectly reasonable segue.”

“Tell me about this woman you’re interested in.”

“Answer my question about Nick.”

I gritted my teeth, weighing my need to know more about my sister’s sparkly new crush against my determination not to involve her in my love life. “I was going to call him back. I’ve just been busy.” Apparently, I was a shitty liar, too.

“Busy? Or chicken?” I slapped away her hand as she ruffled my hair. “Delia!” she called up the stairs. “Come on, squirt. You’re gonna be late for school.”