Home > Labyrinth of Lies (Triple Threat #2)(4)

Labyrinth of Lies (Triple Threat #2)(4)
Author: Irene Hannon

“In the meantime, my work is cut out for me—bone up on lesson plans and school information.” He lifted the bulging folder.

“I suspect you’ll be a fast study.”

Yeah, he would—in terms of staff and faculty backgrounds. He was already fully briefed on the players.

The lesson plans, however, would require total focus for the next week or he was going to tank at this job.

And after all the work that had gone into securing this position, he wasn’t going to flunk out before he’d gotten what he’d come for.

 

“What do you mean, you’re going back undercover?” Eve froze, mug of coffee poised an inch from her lips.

Ignoring her, Cate picked up another piece of the world-class baklava her youngest sibling had brought to the Reilly sisters’ gathering and meticulously gathered up the crumbs. “This is spectacular as usual, Grace. I wish you made it more than once a year.”

“It’s too time-consuming—and don’t change the subject. I thought you said never again?” Grace set her fork down beside her plate, the moussaka Eve had contributed forgotten.

“It was a special circumstance.”

“What does that mean?” Eve shifted the mug away from her mouth and leaned forward.

“Down, girl. This is not a media interview.” Cate tried for a teasing tone. “And before you jump in”—she turned to Grace—“save that forensic pathologist curiosity of yours for people who can’t talk back. I’m not at liberty to discuss the case. I only told you about it to keep you from worrying when I don’t respond to your calls and texts.”

Eve and Grace exchanged glances.

“I don’t like this.” Eve took a sip of coffee and skewered her with one of the probing, razor-sharp looks she usually reserved for unsuspecting guests on her drive-time talk radio show. “Did they strong-arm you into this?”

Sort of.

But she was the logical choice for the job.

“The term strong-arming may be too . . . strong.” She shrugged, as if the assignment was no big deal. “I fit the criteria for this particular investigation.”

“Do you want to do this?” Grace joined the inquisition.

“I want lawbreakers to pay for their crimes. If going undercover is what it takes to get justice in this case—so be it.”

Her conviction sounded so convincing she almost fooled herself into believing she was fine with her decision.

Almost.

Her sisters, however, seemed to buy her assurance.

“How long is this going to last?” Grace jabbed her fork into the last bite of her cooling moussaka.

“As long as it takes.”

“Will you be here for my birthday next month? The big three-oh only comes around once.”

“And we can’t celebrate properly without you,” Eve added.

“I’ll do my best. You know I try to make every family gathering.”

But her sisters weren’t concerned about her missing the landmark birthday.

They were concerned about her.

Her vision blurred, and she swallowed past the lump that formed in her throat.

What would she do without Eve and Grace? With Mom gone all these years, and Dad doing a stint as a visiting professor at Cambridge, the three of them were tighter than ever. Siblings, yes, but also best friends.

So of course they’d worry about their big sister—especially after her negative comments about her previous undercover assignment.

Yet much as she dreaded this job, she could handle it. While the trafficking case had soured her on undercover work, it had also boosted her confidence that she had the acting chops to handle whatever was thrown at her.

And she had to convince her sisters of that. Vanquish the sudden pall that had fallen over their holiday get-together.

“Hey.” She waited until she had their full attention. “Stop worrying. I have the skills for the job, and the environment is much nicer than my previous gig. You could almost say cushy. I’ll be fine. And I’ll be back in the ranks of regular detectives very soon.”

“Until the next undercover job comes along.” Eve wrapped her fingers around her mug, mouth flat.

“Sarge knows this is a one-off.”

“You said that after the last undercover job.”

“This time I mean it. I was very clear about that. The stars just aligned for this one in a way that made me the right person to handle it. If I said no, there’s a reasonable possibility the truth would never be found—and that doesn’t sit well with the truth-seeking gene we all share. Look at the careers we chose.”

“At least my clients don’t carry guns or knives or other lethal weapons.” Grace skewered a piece of baklava and transferred it to her plate.

“Of course not. They’re dead.” Eve shuddered. “I couldn’t do what you do every day if they paid me a million bucks a year.”

“I wish it was that lucrative.”

“It should be. There isn’t enough money in the world to compensate people who are willing to cut up dead bodies.”

“I don’t do it for the money.”

“Lucky thing. And as for Cate”—Eve pointed to her—“they don’t pay her enough either to hang out with the dregs of society.”

“I’ll pass that on to Sarge.” Cate took a swig of her Diet Sprite. “You guys up for a game of Scrabble?” If a cutthroat round of their favorite board game didn’t distract her sisters, nothing would.

“I’m in.” Grace washed down a bite of baklava with the last of the high-end mango iced tea she favored.

“Me too.” Eve gathered up their empty plates and stood. “You want these in the dishwasher?”

“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll go get the game.” Cate rose and headed for the hall.

“Wait. When does this undercover job start?”

At Grace’s question, Cate pivoted. Over the counter that separated the small kitchen from the eating area, Eve had angled toward her to hear the answer too.

“Next Friday.”

“You’re coming over on New Year’s Eve, aren’t you?” Eve propped a shoulder against the wall, the determined set of her jaw brooking no argument.

“I don’t know. I feel funny about barging in on a newly engaged couple.”

“The Reillys always get together on New Year’s Eve.”

“Things change—as that four-day-old ring on your finger demonstrates.”

Eve lifted her left hand, lips curving as she examined the sparkling solitaire. “Some change is positive.” She lowered her hand, smile vanishing. “But it doesn’t have to alter a family tradition. What excuse will you use next year? That we’re newlyweds, and you don’t want to barge in then either?”

“You’re getting married in May. You won’t be newlyweds next New Year’s Eve.”

“Actually . . . according to everything I’ve read on the internet, a husband and wife are considered newlyweds for one year after their marriage,” Grace offered.

“You read about wedding stuff online?” Cate stared at her.

“I can hope, can’t I? Don’t you want to find a hot guy like Eve did and be blissfully happy? Have a real home with a yard and porch swing instead of this one-bedroom, bare-bones apartment?”

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