The Job (Auctioned), Cara Dee [ebook reader wifi TXT] 📗

With the photographic evidence in hand, I met up with Allegra again, who was more than happy to hand over the information I wanted. Judging by the smug little smirk on her face, she was going to have fun breaking up a marriage.

I made my way home again, and Boone and I spent the next several days fleshing out all the details, reporting to Darius and Willow, and setting up a timeline for the Lange party.

On one Friday afternoon, after dropping off Ace at Ma’s place, Boone and I brought Chinese food back to what’d somehow become our home, and we pinned the printouts of our remaining tasks to the wall in the living room.

We needed some child-free work time this weekend to decide where to go next.

I unwrapped my chopsticks and dumped rice into my serving of the best pork in Vegas. Deep-fried, sticky, sweet, spicy as fuck.

“How long can we postpone breaking in to AJ’s house?” Boone asked.

“Not much longer,” I replied, shoveling some food into my mouth. “I think we should go for Sunday.” I stepped closer to the wall and pointed my chopsticks at AJ’s well-established schedule. The man lived by a strict routine, which definitely worked in our favor. “We know he’ll be gone for three hours from noon.”

Breaking in during the day had some benefits. People weren’t alarmed by activity when the sun was up, for one.

Boone had been able to find out a great deal about AJ’s security. In this town, connections were everything, and we’d been around a minute. Thanks to a buddy, we had an educated guess on what to expect inside AJ’s estate. Cameras outside but not indoors. Motion sensors out front but not in the back. And the aforementioned buddy was going to help us turn off the security alarm once we were inside.

“It’s gonna be difficult not to take anything,” Boone grumbled.

I grinned and snatched up a spring roll from another container. “We’ll get our shot.”

This time, we were only looking for information and clues, and we had to secure a safe entry in case Darius and his crew needed access. Boone and I would go in once the whole thing was over and rob AJ blind, at which point we’d been told by our cousin that AJ wouldn’t even be around. I hadn’t asked if AJ was going to end up in prison or in the desert—it didn’t matter to me.

“All right, so Sunday’s settled,” Boone said. “We gotta do something about the anomaly in AJ’s daily routine.”

I nodded and shifted my gaze to the printout of a satellite image on the wall. In the weeks we’d run surveillance on AJ Lange, we learned he went to very few places. Work, golf course, gym, home, and the occasional restaurant. But last week, he’d driven out to a secluded address where a brothel once had been located. It was shut down now, though. Willow was currently trying to find an owner.

“We’ll see if we find any information at his house,” I decided. “Then we’ll head out there—regardless of what we find—next week.” I narrowed my eyes on the list of AJ’s various locations—and considering he didn’t seem to have much of a social life, I was willing to bet he ran a lot of his interactions through safe channels online. “I wish we knew who he’s met up with the few times he’s gone out to dinner.” We hadn’t had the time to pursue any leads other than knowing the exact locations he’d parked and where he’d used valet service. We had to prioritize whatever was going on around his house. We knew when groceries were delivered and when his cleaning service showed up.

Boone picked up the tablet we’d been using to keep tabs. “Maybe we can find out. We still have one more week, don’t we?”

I nodded.

“Well, we don’t have too much on our plate after the weekend,” he went on. “We can squeeze in a couple stakeouts.”

True. And it would help. Because AJ was just a couple weeks away from having his family and his father’s crime organization invade Las Vegas, and someone out there was running their errands—and it wasn’t him.

It wasn’t Allegra or the Langes’ personal hospitality manager either. We’d combed through everything Allegra had given us, and while the info was great to have—it answered a shitload of questions—it provided us no clues that we could follow up on before guests arrived. Same with the hospitality guy, Oliver Hansen. Though, the last one could change. From what Laney and Allegra could tell us, we’d learned Hansen was a well-mannered but “kinda introspective and quiet” fella. He apparently did much of his work from home, meaning it was on our list. We knew where he lived and his work hours. Boone and I had to visit his place when he wasn’t there.

I scratched my forehead, thinking on what Boone had said. Maybe we didn’t have too much on our plate next week, but we’d essentially saved the biggest operations for last.

“I think we need to split up,” I said. “You can do the stakeouts—I’ll pay Hansen a visit.”

He frowned and glanced up from the iPad. “I don’t want you to go without me. What if you need backup?”

“It’s bad enough that we gotta work together to get into AJ’s house,” I replied. “This ain’t our usual MO, Boone. You know that.”

If we’d had more time, I would’ve preferred we split up a lot more. Like the president and the VP, we’d always tried to work separately for shit that could land our asses in prison. Breaking and entering was one of those gigs. Back in the day before we had Ace, we hadn’t been as careful, and we’d also served some time for it.

Boone sighed, appearing irritated, and sat down on the couch. “Maybe I’d be on board if you weren’t trying to push me away.”

What the fuck?

“Excuse me?”

He threw me a bitchy look. “Don’t pretend you don’t