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FBI gang unit or anyone friendly with them, yet here sit two FBI agents. One of whom is a white-collar guy in art crimes. I’m a little confused.”

“I was part of the gang unit here until I was shot three times. I believe I was double-crossed by the new unit leader,” Paxton told Connor who was seasoned enough not to look shocked, but instead saddened.

“I see you don’t look surprised,” Granger said to Connor.

Connor shook his head. “No. I was hoping it wasn’t true, but it’s been too many coincidences to pretend they have a clean house over there. My captain has noticed, too. We’re separating ourselves from them. We’ve stopped sharing information and, lo and behold, we started getting major busts again. We knew there was a rat. We just didn’t know who it was.”

“I think it’s Mark Trevino leading it. I don’t know who else is dirty,” Paxton told him before laying out his history with the unit and subsequent transfer and art case.

Connor sat back and pursed his lips in thought. “You think the art could be used to clean dirty money or a payoff?”

“I couldn’t see the payoff,” Paxton told him. “Usually art is used by gangs to trade. A painting for a case of guns or a kilo of drugs. That kind of trade.”

Connor nodded but leaned forward as if he knew something Paxton didn’t. “I think it was a payment to the Myriad and now they’re cleaning it to get the cash to expand. I have no proof of this, but it’s a hunch.”

“You never discount a hunch,” Cy said seriously.

Connor looked over at him in confusion. “Who are you?”

Cy didn’t answer.

“The night I was shot,” Paxton said, ignoring Cy, “Curtis Engle was supposed to meet with someone about a big deal that could change everything for them. What are you hearing?”

“Nothing concrete. I know Curtis has expanded into Florida. To do that, you have to have the gun power and top quality and quantity of drugs to claim a section of the market,” Connor answered.

“We’re thinking they’re making a play in Charleston, too,” Peter told him.

“I’m sure Kendry can tell you,” Connor started to say, “that something had to happen for Myriad to be able to make this move. They didn’t have the resources to do so two years ago.”

Paxton agreed. “Curtis Engle took over the Myriad two years ago. That’s when I joined undercover. As soon as he took control, he began to push for more power, more control, and worked to actively expand their area. Which means this art has something to do with those goals. Otherwise, he wouldn’t bother with it.”

“Are any of your CIs intact or did Trevino know of them?” Connor asked him.

“I have a couple who no one knows about. What about you all?”

“I have one we can talk to,” Connor answered.

“You two work those angles. When we have all we need from CIs, I’ll put together the next phase of the plan.” Cy crossed his arms over his chest. It wasn’t a question up for debate. That was his plan and he was going to do it.

“Who are you again?” Connor asked Cy.

Tinsley kept looking at her phone all day. She hadn’t heard a thing from Paxton since they left that morning. Luckily, the gallery had been busy when a tour from a cruise ship came to Shadows Landing. They only allowed one guide to bring in these large tours once a week during the summer. It benefited everyone, but it also prevented them from becoming overrun with tourists. Shadows Landing was just too small to handle that large an influx of visitors.

Mallory and Blythe were naturals at selling art they knew nothing about. Tinsley was going to have to muck out the gallery after all the BS they spewed, but the sales made it worthwhile.

“You do know that wasn’t a modern art take on the evolution of feminism, right?” Tinsley asked Blythe after checking her phone for the hundredth time.

“Art is open for interpretation,” Blythe said with a shrug. “And I did sell it for twice the price.”

“Can’t argue with you on that, but feminism?”

“It looked like a vagina, didn’t it?” Blythe asked, looking to Mallory for backup.

“I thought it was a butterfly,” Mallory told them.

“It was an abstract rose garden,” Tinsley said with a roll of her eyes. “The artist is into abstract flowers.”

“You mean she painted her dewy folds?” Blythe asked as seriously as she could.

“It’s her flower,” Mallory said with a nod of agreement.

“It’s literally her rose garden,” Blythe said with a smirk.

Mallory cocked her head as she looked at the painting they needed to wrap up for delivery to the ship. “It’s her pink petals as her bud is about to blossom.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Blythe agreed.

The door opened and Harper strode in wearing workout clothes. She stopped and looked at the painting. “It’s a vagina that needs a good wax.”

“The garden does need trimming,” Mallory agreed.

Tinsley rolled her eyes as she finished the wrapping and labeled it. A separate van would take all the purchases the tourists made to the ship before they left the dock in Charleston. “Have you heard from Dare?”

“Nope. I usually don’t when he’s undercover. Hence, why I’m taking you to the church. I need to work out some pent-up energy,” Harper told her. Tinsley couldn’t agree more.

“At church? Is there a fun little aerobics class taught by senior citizens?” Blythe joked.

“Something like that,” Harper said with a smirk for Tinsley who smiled at the thought of what the church held.

“That sounds perfect. Just let me load this up and we’ll change and meet you there.”

“Mallory, can you run back to Ryker’s and get us all workout clothes while Blythe and I get all the paintings loaded into Skeeter’s van for him to transport to Charleston?” Tinsley asked.

The next half hour was hectic but soon the four of them were heading into the back of the church. Tinsley and Harper just smiled as

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