The Client (Professionals 8) - Page 56

“How did you figure all of this out?”

“I got the pictures you gave to the rest of the team. And I ran them into a search.”

“You found her on social media?”

“No, actually. Your girl is a complete ghost. Not even any old defunct pages from her teen years. Nothing.”

“Then how did you find her?”

“Raven, whose real name is Rebecca, had a big, fancy-ass wedding. Fancy enough to make the local paper in Navesink Bank. And her maid of honor was right there next to her. Took fucking forever, but that was how I found her.”

“What’s her real name?”

“Yeah, see, that’s the thing. I have no idea. And you know how much I hate saying that. But I have looked really hard. I can’t find it. She was named in the paper as Wasp. And once I made the connection to Rebecca/Raven, I found her social media. Where she had posted a throwback to when they were teens. Her, Wasp, and the two brothers. But I couldn’t get any records from Wasp’s birth or anything. And her brothers don’t really do much social media either. You know how outlaws are about that shit.”

I didn’t. But I could imagine that when your career and life involved something as illegal as arms dealing, the rules about what you posted online were strict.

“What about the local high school? She must have gone to class with Raven.”

“I know,” Nia agreed, dropping down on the chair across from me, what was left of her energy seeming to seep slowly out of her limbs. “The old yearbooks aren’t scanned in. I have to wait until Monday to go to the school to look. Normally, I’d wait until I had all of that to give you. But with how wrecked you looked in my office, I figured the sooner the better with whatever information I have. You have the brother lead and the best friend lead. If you want to follow through with those. Or have the rest of the guys on the team handle it.”

I didn’t have time to wait for my team of fixers to find some diplomatic way of figuring this out, approaching the brothers or the friend.

I had to handle this myself.

Which would be pretty new for me.

Handling my own damn business.

“Nia, you are every bit as good as you think you are,” I told her, getting a smile. She never pretended to be humble about her skills. I always appreciated that about her. “Better, even,” I added. “Thank you for this.”

“We have to pull out all the stops for our most notorious client,” she told me, and the price she was paying was clear.

“Go on. Go get some sleep, Nia,” I told her, reaching for my wallet, grabbing some cash. “And have a nice dinner on me.”

“A nice dinner,” she said, taking the cash, looking up at me. “This is nice dinner for a month.”

“Then have nice dinners for a month. You earned it. And you have my IOU for when you need it,” I told her, leading her to the door.

“I know you’re going to try to go get your girl,” she said, stepping into the hall, turning to face me. “Can I offer you some advice?”

“I’m sure I could use it,” I admitted.

“Let her talk,” she said, shrugging. “You come at her too hard, you’re only going to lose her again before you even get any answers. Then you’re never going to be able to get some sleep.”

With that, she was gone.

I went back to the table, flipping through the file, checking out the faces, wondering which would be the straightest route to her.

The best friend, I decided, looking over the wedding pictures. In my experience, when a woman found a man she looked at like Raven looked at Roman, she wanted that kind of thing for her best friend too.

There was also the added perk of Raven not likely wanting to kick my ass like her brothers might.

Decision made, I showered, changed, threw back some coffee, and made my way across town to the development of mini mansions that Nia had provided me the address for.

“I got it!” A woman’s voice called from inside when I’d hit the bell. “It’s probably the Chine…oh,” she said, pulling the door open.

She was every bit as pretty as her wedding pictures, but wearing a silk tank top that had some sort of purple smudge on the stomach, her hair wrapped up in a bun on the top of her head in a frazzled mom look everyone recognized.

Her bright blue gaze slid over me, settling on my face, lips curved up ever-so-slightly.

“All that money,” she started, shaking her head, “And it took you this long to track her down?”

“I had the best team on the job,” I admitted, feeling relief wash over me. I’d picked the right person. She was happy to see me. She wanted me to be able to talk to Wasp. “Is she here?” I asked. It was a rhetorical question. Wanda was parked way in the backyard.

Tags: Jessica Gadziala Professionals Billionaire Romance
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