I knew I had my work cut out for me. I needed to speak to what was left of the Wilson Crew. "Thank you. This is further than I've been able to get along on my own."
He nodded. "Yeah well, Mr. Hale here is responsible for my new life. So, if he comes calling, I have to deliver the favor.”
I turned to East. "Why give him his new life? After all, he tried to steal from you and your family."
East shrugged. "Well, the Wilsons did. Ryder was just a fence. And you never know when you're going to need someone like him in your life."
Ryder stood to go get us that number, and I turned my full attention to East. "So what, you're trading favors?"
East shrugged again. "Sometimes. Not everything is black and white, Agent Kincade. There are shades of gray. And, Ryder is not violent. Yes, sometimes he will take the easy way out. He's lazy. But he's also shrewd, and he’s a survivalist. I like survivors. He didn't dick us about when we came calling, either. He knew exactly what we wanted, gave us what we needed, and made his deal. I can respect that."
"Wow. You really don't believe in law and order, do you?"
I had dedicated my whole life to putting the criminals away. To getting the bad guy. Things had been cut and dry my whole life. But for him? Shades of gray, like he said.
"Unfortunately the world isn't cut and dry. You lose if that's the game you play. I don't like losing. Like I said, you needed something, and I was able to provide it because I didn't cut him loose then. That's how it works. It's how most of the world works. Not many of us have the luxury of seeing the world in black and white."
"So, you're like my fairy godfather?"
He grinned. "I'm not wearing a tutu."
"No, you're wearing a bespoke suit. So I’m just supposed to trust you."
"Well, it's called surrender. You will either trust me one day or you won't. But for now, you have something that you can use. And I won't even ask for a favor in return."
14 Nyla
I liked him. Damn him and his stupid charm. It was hard not to like him.
Despite every instinct for self-preservation, I liked him.
He had more charm than one single man should possess. He was beautiful in that kind of way that made women stare. And he damn well knew it.
But he was also thoughtful. And smart. And considerate. And he was loyal. I could tell by the way he spoke about his mates, his sister, his mother.
The one person he did not talk about was his father. The man was good at getting information out of a stone though. We talked about my mother more, but he also rooted around my feelings toward my father. I was less than forthcoming with those feelings.
And he talked about his family... clearly leaving out his own bits. But it felt real. It felt like connection.
All that and he had taken me around to some of the best former forgers and fences in London. After Ryder we’d gone to see Marielle Lipton, the forger. Also a few other forgers and safe crackers. From the shady and dodgy to the absolutely wealthy. Spending a day with him was like running around with Gatsby. There wasn’t a single person he didn’t know. Or one who didn’t meet him with a grin.
And every single one of them had an East story. One where he helped them or got them out of trouble. It was like he’d taken me to everyone who could vouch for him or mark him as a stand-up bloke.
I’d expected the beautiful fancy galleries we’d toured. I’d expected the lessons on art and authentication. I hadn’t expected the street artists and the students and the inspiration.
Now it had turned into... what? A date?
Sadly a day with him was the closest thing resembling a real date I'd been on since Denning and I broke up. When he'd suggested we pop up for a bite to eat, I had said yes, instead of the 'No, thank you so much for your time, Mr. Hale, but I have everything I need now' response I should have given.
I wanted to be near him. The memory of the other night, us rolling in the grass as the sprinklers rained down on us made me want to laugh more than once. And he’d caught my eye more than once to tease me and say I still had grass in my hair.
"So, are you going to tell me how you did it?"
He grinned at me then. "Oh what, you mean get a bird's eye view into your flat?"
"Yes, actually, I would very much like to know that."
He laughed. "You’ve been dying to ask that all day, haven’t you? But then I would be revealing one of my secrets. And as it is, you've already started closing the blinds, so that's going to make it more difficult."
I narrowed my gaze. "You recognize I know how to shoot a gun, right?"
Another laugh, this one a bit deeper. "Yes, you’ve reminded me more than once."
"Are you going to tell me now?"
He took a sip of his scotch as we stood at the bar waiting for our table, totally ignoring my question. Then he popped off into this hidden little alcove. The lighting was definitely a mood. Not quite romantic, but the candlelight sure lent itself to clandestine affairs. He had stepped away at the far end of the bar, where the bartender, who clearly knew him on sight, called something back to the kitchen area. Next thing I'd knew, upscale bar food had appeared. Scotch eggs
