Becoming Rain (Burying Water #2)(40)

Am I in the mood for this, though? Rain’s smart, crystal-blue eyes flicker through my thoughts. I like her. Her and her cute nose as she scrunched it up, hating the scotch. Her, standing next to me, my arm linked with hers.

Maybe I’m starting to like her too much.

It doesn’t matter. I’m not wrapping my brand-new Porsche around a light post and, if anyone can handle a stick, I know Priscilla can.

“Yeah, fine. Let’s go.”

Chapter 18

CLARA

“Someone’s been drinking my beer.”

“Said Papa Bear . . .” Warner’s blank stare tells me he doesn’t catch my Goldilocks reference. “You know I hate beer.”

He gestures at the inside of my fridge. “I had six in here. Now I have five.”

“Yeah, I gave one to 12.”

He scowls, cracking open a fresh one. “My beer is off-limits.”

“If he shows up here, I have to offer him something. Which reminds me . . . I thought this place was out-of-bounds for my cover team now that he knows where I live.”

“Are you expecting him at . . .” He glances at the clock. “. . . two a.m.?”

“No, but I’m also not expecting my handler, and yet here we are.”

“I’m not your handler, I’m your cranky * of a brother, remember?”

“Stepbrother,” I correct him, rolling my eyes.

“Whatever. Bill’s on him. He’s out at the club.” Clinking his beer against my glass of wine, he announces, “You did great tonight. Sinclair’s happy.”

“You talked to him?”

“An hour ago. Gave him a rundown. I think there’s enough here to keep the investigation going.”

Seriously? “There’s really not that much.”

Warner shakes his head, laughing. “Do you have any idea whose house you were at tonight?”

“I’m guessing the man who ships their stolen cars.”

“Well, look at you, Nancy Drew.” He chuckles. “Aref Hamidi. Owner of Hamidi Enterprises, one of the wealthiest international freight companies in the world, going back five generations. Also one of the richest families in Iran.”

“Impressive fact gathering.”

His brow quirks. “Oh, it gets better. He’s married to Elmira Zamani, who has ties to the now dethroned Iranian empire. As in, she’s distant royalty. As in, almost a real live f*cking princess.”

“Wow.” I think back to her shiny black hair, her exotic features, her regal movements. Doesn’t surprise me one bit.

“Yeah. Between the two of them, they have enough money to feed a third-world country.”

That doesn’t surprise me either. “And their money’s dirty?”

“All money is, somewhere along the line,” Warner mutters between sips, his cynical side making its appearance. “But, no, not that we’ve known of, up until now. The Hamidi family has been on our radar for over two decades, given their connections to that part of the world and their business. Right after 9/11, when we were able to get warrants signed with nothing more than a loud sneeze, we used to jam them up bad with searches. They always took it in stride, and they always turned up clean.”

“So, what do you think this means?”

He shrugs. “Maybe Aref isn’t following the family’s legitimate ways.”

“Maybe Luke was there on legit business for RTM,” I say, playing devil’s advocate. Maybe his uncle isn’t dragging him down with him.

“Maybe. All I know is Sinclair was like a fat kid in a candy store tonight. We thought Rust’s network was strictly with the Russian mob, but this is even bigger.”

“I guess he’ll get an extra-big shiny medal then, won’t he?” I mutter, wryly.

Warner chuckles, perching on the arm of the couch. “Something like that.”

I suck back my wine, considering the expanding landscape of this criminal enterprise. “I don’t get it. I mean, you have that much money and yet you go and do something stupid and illegal to get more?” My words are rhetorical, of course. Everyone has their motivations—even criminals. Usually it’s pure, blind greed.

A phone starts ringing. I eye Warner’s pocket, where I know his personal iPhone is tucked away. “Are you going to answer that? She’s called three times.”

“Yeah, to yell at me for missing the wedding. I don’t need that right now,” he mutters through another mouthful of beer. It’s going down fast tonight.

I chew the inside of my cheek, deciding if I should say what I want to. “You should call her. Smooth things over.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I need to know that there’s hope for a normal relationship in this job.”

He laughs, sliding from the arm to fill the couch seat next to me. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but there’s no such thing as normal for us. What we see, what we have to do, the way we learn to think . . . no one but us will understand that. You’re doomed the second you start having feelings for someone.”

“Jeez, Warner! Then why are you even bothering with this poor woman?”

He shrugs, twisting and turning the tag on his beer can for a long moment before dark eyes lift to meet mine. “I guess I’m just biding my time until I find the perfect non-normal partner for me.”