“So you went to the police?” Simon said as if he’d plugged that piece of intelligence into his monster mind and the data didn’t quite compute.
“Interpol, actually.” Kat managed a casual shrug. “Technically, I went to Interpol.”
“And you ratted on your dad?” Angus asked.
“He’s better off where he is. Trust me,” she said.
“But you’re his daughter, Kat.” Hamish’s eyes were wide. “Uncle Eddie’s gonna kill you.”
“I’m also the girl who’s trying to undo the only Pseudonima job ever done in our lifetime, Hamish. Not even Uncle Eddie can kill me twice.”
Simon dropped to the couch. “I don’t think I’d do well in prison.”
Kat tried not to notice the way Hamish and Angus gripped their pool cues, or the way Gabrielle sat quietly beside the window, a worried expression on her face.
“Guys, I—”
“She did the right thing.” They were the words she never expected to hear, from the one person she never expected to say them. Hale dropped onto an ottoman. “If this doesn’t work, and”—he almost smiled—“it’d kinda be a miracle for it to work . . . then your dad’s gonna need as much standing between him and Arturo Taccone as possible.”
He looked at Kat. Something stretched out between them in that moment, and she knew that no one would deny Hale— or doubt him. That no one would fight them both. And so maybe they could have left it at that. Maybe the tension would have blown over if an unfamiliar boy hadn’t chosen that moment to appear in the doorway and say, “Hello.”
Simon lunged for a laptop that sat open on the wet bar and shut it with a snap. Hamish threw a coat over the model of the Henley that lay on the floor beside the couch, but Hale didn’t make a single move. He just looked at the boy in the doorway and back at Kat.
“Who’s this guy?” he asked, jerking his head toward the boy extending his hand.
“Hi, I’m Nick. Kat told me—”
“To wait outside,” Kat warned.
“So?” Hale asked, still staring at Kat.
“Nick’s a pocket man. He and I . . . bumped into each other in Paris.” Kat wanted to sound sure and in control—like someone who deserved to be there. “Nick, this is Gabrielle.” Her cousin gave the faintest hint of a wave with two fingers. “The Bagshaws, Angus and Hamish. Simon—I told you about him. And this is Hale,” Kat finished. “Hale’s—”
“Hale’s wondering exactly what Nick’s doing here.”
Kat listened for the familiar teasing in Hale’s voice, but she knew he wasn’t even the tiniest bit amused.
“You said it yourself, Hale.” Kat lowered her voice. “We need one more.”
“Two more,” Hale corrected. “Actually, I said we needed two more, and he—”
“He’s in,” Kat said flatly. “We can do it with seven. And he’s in.”
Kat looked at her crew: Angus was the oldest, Simon was the smartest, Gabrielle was the quickest, and Hamish was the strongest. But Hale was the only one willing to say what everyone else was thinking.
“I knew it,” he said, turning away. “I knew I should have gone with you. First you tell some phony story about your dad to the police—”
“Interpol,” Hamish, Angus, and Simon all corrected.
“And then you come home with this?” Hale snapped, pointing at Nick as if the boy couldn’t hear. As if Kat were an amateur. A fool.
Kat shook her head, wishing she could say for certain that he was wrong.
“Can I see you outside for a second?” Kat glared at Hale, then walked to the patio doors and out onto the veranda.
As Hale closed the door behind him, Kat heard Angus say, “Ooh, Mom and Dad are going to fight now.”
Outside, the air was cool. She wished she’d brought a coat, that Hale would put his arm around her and tease her for bringing home strays and lost causes. But his tone was anything but warm. “You’re too close to this one, Kat. You’re way too involved to think—”
“I know,” she practically yelled. “I am close. This is my life, Hale. Mine. My father. My job. My responsibility.”
“Clearly.” He sounded so calm and detached. Everything she wasn’t.
“I know what I’m doing, Hale.”
“Really? Because I could swear that in the past twenty-four hours you’ve turned your father in—”
“Five minutes ago you thought that was a great idea,” she reminded him. He pushed on.
“—to the cops, and brought home a stranger.”
“Nick’s good, Hale. He picked me clean and I never saw it coming.”
Hale shook his head. “This is a bad call, Kat. If Uncle Eddie were here—”
“Uncle Eddie’s not here,” she snapped. “Uncle Eddie isn’t going to be here.” Her voice cracked, but Hale either didn’t hear or didn’t care.
“Uncle Eddie would stop you.”
Kat looked at him, read the cool indifference in his eyes. “So that’s what you’re going to do?” she asked. “Stop me?”
She wanted him to say, “Of course not,” but instead, he looked her right in the eye and said, “Maybe I should.” He stepped closer. “This guy is—”
“What, Hale?” Kat shouted, louder now. “What is he exactly?”
“He’s not part of the family.”