Chapter 8 #2
“The kind of firm that gets called when private equity guys start receiving credible death threats. The kind of firm that does not lose principals.” A pause. A breath. “The kind of firm a person should not steal a watch from.”
She grimaced. “Noted.”
“What about Isaac? Can you find him specifically?”
A stretch of keys, then a soft exhale. “Isaac Baxter.”
Fallon sat with that. Four months of carrying a first name and a face, and now he had a last name. He was a real, traceable person in a real, traceable organization.
“Isaac Baxter,” she repeated.
“That’s him. I’ve got a professional profile, some public records, nothing that screams. He’s been with Zodiac for a several years. Works in their protection division.”
“What else?”
“Hold on. I want to cross-reference something.” The typing went rapid again.
“I’m pulling your activity history. All our cities, events, targets, for the three years we’ve been working.
And I’m running it against Zodiac Tactical’s known movements: public client filings, press mentions, event appearances, anything that shows where their people have been. ”
Fallon’s stomach tightened. This was the question that mattered. If Zodiac Tactical’s movements tracked with hers, if they’d been at events she’d worked, in cities she’d operated in, then Boston and Austin weren’t coincidences.
They were surveillance.
Cassandra worked for nearly two minutes without speaking. Fallon listened to the keys and didn’t interrupt.
“Okay, thank God. Clean,” Cassandra said. “No overlap. Zodiac Tactical wasn’t near any of your previous targets. Not Seattle, not even before that. They were actually in Boston before you even got there. The overlap was coincidental.”
Fallon exhaled. Some of the tension left her shoulders.
“Now let me work the Austin angle from the other direction.” More typing.
“I’m pulling the guest list from tonight’s event and looking for anyone who’d need a firm like Zodiac.
High-profile, high-threat, the kind of client who hires private security for public events.
” A pause. “Got it. David Endicott. CEO of a biotech startup that went public about six months ago. Made a lot of people rich and a few people angry. He was on the guest list tonight.”
“That’s who they’re protecting?”
“That’s my best guess. He fits the profile perfectly. A man with money, enemies, and a public schedule. That’s exactly the kind of client Zodiac takes on.”
The picture was shifting. Fallon could feel it rearranging in her chest. “So Isaac Baxter isn’t in Austin because of me.”
“It doesn’t look like it. He’s here for a job that has nothing to do with you. You just happened to be working the same room.”
Fallon pushed off the counter. Her knee sent a sharp flare on the way up and she paused, letting the joint take her weight in its own time.
She walked to the window and leaned her shoulder against the frame the way she had in this same apartment a dozen times before, staring at the same dark street through the same curtains she’d bought because the originals let in too much light.
But everything beyond the glass had changed.
She’d spent four months filing Isaac under harmless.
A rich man at a gala. Someone she’d enjoyed and left behind and would never see again, because she’d made sure of it.
No last name, no number, no trail. She’d walked out of that hotel room and closed the door on him completely, and she’d never once questioned whether the door would hold.
Now Cassandra’s research had kicked it open. He wasn’t harmless. He wasn’t a civilian she’d slipped past. He was a trained operative with resources and a team. And tonight, he’d watched her steal, confronted her, and chosen to let her walk.
And the watch. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass.
That probably hadn’t been the smartest move she’d ever made.
But he’d been standing there calling her a bad pickpocket, and she couldn’t let that stand.
She’d shown him exactly what she could do, and that was a card she couldn’t take back.
But he’d watched her hold it up from across the room and let her go. He liked their game just as much as she did. That told her something. She just wasn’t sure yet whether it made him less dangerous or more.
“Okay,” Cassandra said, and Fallon could hear her settling into the next phase.
The crisis was over. Now came the problem-solving.
“Let’s talk about what this means for the work.
Our target and the guy Zodiac is protecting.
They run in the same circles. Same charity boards, same galas, same donor dinners.
Austin’s wealthy circuit isn’t that big. ”
“So there’s going to be overlap.” Fallon categorically ignored the little thrill that hummed through her veins.
Cassandra was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was careful. “Is it worth it? The risk of staying? The smart move would be to leave Austin. Find a new city. New target. Start fresh.”
Fallon’s jaw tightened. “We’ve been researching Chemo Money Asshole for two months, Cass.”
“I know.”
“He ran a fraudulent charity for families with fucking terminally ill children. He skimmed donations that were supposed to pay for medical bills and experimental treatments. Families who were already losing everything lost more because of him, and he walked away clean. He’s playing golf and sitting on boards and nobody has touched him. ”
“I am aware of all that since I’m the one who brought him to your attention in the first place.” They both hated him so much that they didn’t even refer to him by name, just Chemo Money Asshole.
“Then you know I’m not leaving. Not because of a man.”
“Even if that man is a trained security operative who knows your face and has seen you work?”
“I’ll be careful. I’ll adapt. But I’m not running from this.”
Cassandra sighed. It was the particular sigh of someone who’d known the answer before she asked the question. “There’s an operational problem you can’t ignore. The money clip.”
Fallon waited.
“Isaac didn’t just see you steal. He saw you steal from the target.
Right now, for him, it’s just a woman he slept with lifting a money clip from a stranger at a party.
But if the target goes down publicly and Isaac Baxter remembers the man you were standing next to when it happened, he has a thread to pull.
A direct connection between you and someone whose life just fell apart. ”
Fallon heard it. She turned it over, examined the edges. Cassandra was right. It was a loose end, and loose ends were how people got caught.
She filed it.
“I hear you,” she said. “I’ll factor it in.”
“But you’re staying.”
“I’m staying. If he’s at any events I’m at, I’ll keep away from him. He thinks I’m just a pickpocket. That works in our favor.”
“Okay. Then we adapt. I’m with you.”
“Thank you, Cass. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just don’t steal anything else from the man with the tactical team, please.”
Fallon almost laughed. “No promises.”
“I’m serious, Fallon.”
“I know you are.” She paused. Let the operational weight drain from her voice. “Hey. Be careful with yourself, too, okay? I mean it.”
“Go ice your knee. I know it’s bad tonight.”
“How do you always know?”
“Because you only get sentimental when something hurts. Goodnight. Get some sleep.”
The apartment settled into quiet after they disconnected. Fallon stood in the kitchen and let the silence fill the space where Cassandra’s voice had been. The refrigerator hummed. A siren passed somewhere distant and faded.
She crossed to the counter and looked at the money clip. It was made of gold and covered in diamonds in the shape of the target’s last name. Gaudy as hell, but it would be part of the overall pot that fetched a ton of money for his victims.
She picked up Isaac’s watch.
Not flashy, not ostentatious. Solid. The leather band was worn soft at the buckle hole he used most. She turned it over. No engraving on the back. No inscription. Just a watch that told time and did its job and asked nothing of the person wearing it.
She set it back on the table. It had been so stupid to take it. So dangerous. But she hadn’t been able to help herself. Not just because of him talking trash about her abilities, but because… she’d wanted the connection.
His look at her right before she’d disappeared out the door? He’d wanted it, too.
So, yeah. She was staying. She was adapting. She was not running.
And somewhere in this city, a man with an empty wrist knew what she was and had let her walk away.