Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(52)

A smooth laugh from Stark. “I don’t know how to breathe anywhere else, nor do I intend to learn. Chicago is where it all happens. And none of it happens without me.” A groan from a leather chair. “Which is why you’re here, Mr. Caster. Correct?”

“You don’t waste time, do you?”

An amused hum. “This isn’t Texas.”

“Fair enough. We’ll get down to brass tacks and you can get back to sucking smog.”

Stark didn’t reply.

“Now, currently the commercial space we have rented to house the first Chicago K-Worth shares parking with three other department stores. And that just ain’t enough.” Connor tried not to look impressed. Obviously he hadn’t given Austin enough credit. The guy had done his homework. “I know how you city people work, carrying shopping home on trains or, hell, walking. But we want our customers going home with more than they can carry in one of them ‘go green’ tote bags. For that they need cars. Cars need parking.”

“What are you asking for, Mr. Caster?”

Another rumbling laugh. “I’m getting there.” A chair creaked, signaling that someone had come to their feet. “There is a huge lot running along the east side of the property. We were hoping to purchase it to use as a private lot, but we’ve run into some zoning issues. Apparently it was created for the sole use of the affordable housing across the street.”

“Well.” A pen tapped against wood. “Finally something I can help you with.”

“I knew I came to the right place. Shall we discuss terms?”

A long pause. “Why don’t you show me what’s in the briefcase?”

Derek leaned forward in his seat to eye the laptop. Looking satisfied that the exchange was definitely being recorded, his shoulders remained tense. They were potentially seconds away from getting their man, only a few days into the job. What would the ramifications of that be? Would they continue to work together or be split up? His head started to ache at the idea of Erin or him being asked to go somewhere else. No. No, that wouldn’t happen. This wasn’t a temporary gig. They’d been assured of that.

Relax, man.

Both of them flinched when a loud crash traveled through the headphones, followed by a high-pitched squeal. “Daddy!”

Connor and Derek exchanged an uneasy glance. Obviously this hadn’t been part of the plan.

When Stark spoke again, his voice had changed completely, going from darkly cultured to bright and enthusiastic. “Kiddo. What are you doing here? Where’s Berta?”

“I am here.” An elderly, Russian-tinged voice. “She wanted to say hello before school. Threatened to hold breath unless we stopped car.”

“Well. Stubbornness runs in the family, I guess.” Footsteps ran across carpeted floor. “But you’ve interrupted an important meeting. Next time, you’ll listen to Berta. Understood?”

“Yes, Dad-dy,” the child replied in a singsongy voice.

“This is Mr. Caster. Say hello.”

“Hello!”

Connor frowned when Austin stayed silent. Seconds ticked by before he finally spoke. “N-nice to meet you.” His Texas accent had slipped slightly, making Derek’s head fall forward. Something had thrown Austin off in there. The kid? “I, uh…just remembered I’m needed back at the K-Worth site. We’ll pick this up tomorrow.”

Two chairs rolled back. “That’s not necessary. They were just leaving.” Stark’s voice had gone smooth once more. Maybe even with a hint of suspicion. “I usually only have her on the weekends, so this doesn’t happen often.”

“No need to explain. I have to, um…” Heavier footsteps sounded on the floor. Austin’s phony accent was back in place, but he sounded almost desperate to get out of there. “I’ll call to reschedule.”

“Fucking hell,” Derek muttered. “We had him.”

They heard a ding and realized Austin must have been entering an elevator. A second later, a door rolled and silence reigned. “I’m a bastard, but I won’t have him arrested in front of his daughter,” Austin said, his cultured tone clipped. “Not going to happen.”

Static rushed in Connor’s ears, telling him Austin must have ripped off the wire he’d been wearing. Derek removed his headphones and let them drop to the van floor.

“This is what I get for putting together a group of wild cards.”

“You don’t sound too upset,” Connor observed, slinging his own headphones around his neck.

Derek said nothing, just removed his wallet from his back pocket. He took out a picture of a little girl who looked to be about two years old, holding a kitten close to her chest. He’d only met Ginger briefly, but this child was the image of her, even if she had a touch of Derek’s shrewdness in her eyes.

“Some things are sacred,” Derek said, before climbing into the driver’s seat and pulling away from the curb. “Drop you off at the courthouse?”

“You’re not coming to the wedding?”

“Jesus, no. Can’t give you *s the impression that I give a shit.”

A smile tugged at Connor’s mouth. “Fair enough.”





Chapter Seventeen


Erin paced the lobby of the courthouse, waiting for Connor to show. The security guard operating the metal detector kept sending Erin nervous glances over her shoulder. Although she couldn’t figure out why since the woman had confiscated both of her knives. Knives she would be getting back as soon as Sera and Bowen exchanged their vows upstairs.