East End (Hear No Evil Trilogy #1) - Nana Malone Page 0,11

chase before I was born. To hear my father tell it, he had been so close.

And then Theroux had slipped out of his hands. And since then, every two or three years, Theroux would resurface, and my father would get spun out chasing him. I had often wondered if I could catch Theroux, would my father take me seriously? Would he see me for once? Value me? I wished. But instead of me, he was letting Denning take the Theroux case.

I hated how he played favorites with Denning. Granted, I had made the mistake of dating him. My father had warned me that it wouldn’t work out.

He had been right, of course. But nothing smarted like having my ex being chummy with my father and him having a new girlfriend and flaunting said new girlfriend in my face after telling me I was ‘too much.’ Not that I cared.

At the end of the meeting, Amelia rushed after me as I marched to my office. “Hey, wait up. Please tell me that your hurry is in fact because you have zero intention on giving up.”

She knew me too well. “You know I never say die.” In my office I slapped down my new case file paperwork and plopped into my chair in full slouch. “I just have to find proof of the impossible and prove that the men behind it are doing illegal things. You got a magic wand I can borrow? I could really use it.”

She closed my door quietly and leaned against it. “No. But I met my mum for an early breakfast, and she dropped an interesting tidbit about the Bridgeport hospital charity event tonight. She mentioned that there would be several wealthy eligible men in attendance. In particular, East Hale.”

I pushed myself up to sit straighter. “Amelia, I could fucking kiss you.”

“Make it good, gorgeous. It’s been a while since anyone did it properly. Probably why my mother insisted I go tonight.”

“I’m always good,” I said with a wink.

“Let’s hope so. You have a thief to catch.”

I certainly did.

3

East

Hours after meeting with Nyla’s father, I still had her on the brain. And maybe that’s why I’d been more than happy to volunteer for auction duty.

I still wasn’t sure what to make of the older Agent Kincade. From my research, I knew he’d comply. But how he would handle Nyla was what worried me.

You have an Interpol agent up your ass, and you’re worried that he might crush her spirit?

Where the fuck was my sense of self-preservation? I’d spent too much time pulling up everything I could find on agent Nyla Kincade. If she was coming after us, the least I could do was be well informed. But there was a chance she’d heed her father’s advice, and for now, I hoped the situation was contained.

If by contained you mean reliving that fight you had with her over and over again, then sure, contained is the right word.

No matter what I found out about Nyla Kincade, I wouldn’t be sharing my new low-key obsession to know what she smelled like or what her laugh sounded like.

"Right now we have a Pan Elise painting. Opening bid is £30,000.” I forced my attention back to the excuse that had brought me there, just half a block from the Interpol offices.

Lucky for me, my mother couldn't attend the auction because she had a prior engagement, and my sister was in Monaco. As the acting curator of the Du Mont family collection, she really should be here. But her wife was six months into a difficult pregnancy, so it was better if she didn't have to travel back to London.

So the job was mine.

The painting wasn't really right for our family collection. But that didn't mean that I didn't want it. It would go well in my personal collection with its bold colors and light touch if AJ didn't want it.

To the far right, a bloke sat with his back turned to me. He had short dark hair, a suit, and a blue shirt, and I couldn’t see him well enough to figure out who it was because of the way we were seated sort of amphitheater style.

I raised my paddle for fifty, he raised it for sixty.

I knew that the artist was up-and-coming. I'd seen her exhibit in London a little over a year ago, and she was making a name for herself with bright strokes and flashing colors. And I knew her style was completely wrong for the family collection,