to hurt someone. I felt a different tactic was best. Grayson is a sucker for a pretty face.”
“Pretty?” Tristan scoffed. “She’s stunning.”
“I’m still on the line, gentlemen.” Sabine rolled her eyes then held up her phone. “These are from today. He went to the gym. He went to a store. Two stores, actually.” She swiped through the pictures and showed the date details.
She didn’t mention he’d been trying to sell clothes for money. If they knew Grayson was desperate, it would make her job look easier, and her fee would be compromised.
“Fine. He looks healthy. Good,” Luke said.
“He colored his hair?” Tristan added with a head shake.
That little change reminded Grayson’s brothers how long he’d been blowing them off.
“I’m sending my jet to LAX,” Luke said. “It should be there in about six hours. I want him on that plane. When my pilot confirms he’s on board, I’ll wire you the money.”
“I want half now.”
“Half!” They both screeched.
Okay, perhaps that was a lot.
“I’ve been working to find him for weeks without any kind of payment. A lass has to eat, ye know.” A bark and sniffing at her feet took her attention away. She looked down and scooped up the mischievous pug who wiggled out of her crate. “Good faith only goes so far, Mr. Hart.”
“Call me Luke,” he said with kind eyes. “Cute dog.”
“That’s easier since yer all Mr. Hart.”
“How’s one hundred thousand?” Tristan offered. “Today.”
She considered her empty refrigerator and past due rent... “Deal. I’ll text ye wire instructions.”
“Please get him on that plane.” Tristan leaned into the monitor.
“How do you plan to lure him to the airport, anyway?” Luke asked, folding his arms.
“I have my ways. I’ll look for the payment. Good day to ye, gentlemen.” She ended the video chat and stood up. “Thanks, Roxy,” she said to her best friend, who often let Sabine make video calls using great Wi-Fi from her bungalow high up in the Hollywood hills.
The six-month pregnant dog groomer had hired Sabine to track down her ex-boyfriend when the creep had stolen Zoe, the pug. The ex was short and stocky and no match for Sabine, six-foot-tall, trained in Krav Maga, and from a long line of well-built, muscled Quinlans.
“Yer welcome, Sabine. One hundred grand.” Roxy whistled from her kitchen, pouring kibble into a bowl for Zoe.
Roxy was from Dublin and they became instant friends when Sabine moved to L.A, three years ago. Even let Sabine sleep on an air mattress in her sunroom until she found the right two-bedroom downtown-area apartment that doubled as her office.
“Sounds like a lot.” She nuzzled Roxy’s pug. “But Mr. Collins at the bank helped me with the business plan and said I’ll need about five hundred grand to expand the business properly.”
She didn’t like being a one-woman band. Her four brothers ran a top-notch security and investigation firm back home in New York. She’d started working there when she was eighteen and learned everything there was to know about the PI business. But Ewan, her oldest brother would only ever see her as a pretty receptionist.
And Kieran’s wife.
She’d rather live in the trunk of Grayson Hart’s fancy car. Which she’d found out wasn’t his. And the owner was looking for it. Leverage was a dish best served hot hot hot.
“How ye, feeling today?” Sabine asked Roxy.
“Good, the wee one’s starting to kick. Come feel it.”
Sabine gently pressed on Roxy’s stomach and felt a swift kick that made her jump back. “Janey Mack! Does that hurt ye?”
“No. Except when I got a full bladder.”
“Aye, I bet.” Sabine smiled as she dumped her laptop in a canvas tote bag. “I’m off to the bank and then I’m introducing myself to the missing Grayson Hart.”
“Careful with ye now.” Roxy walked her to the door.
“Now ye be sounding like Shane.”
“Ye call him a brat all the time, should I be insulted?”
“Just like there are good witches, there are good brats. And yer my favorite.” She kissed Roxy’s cheek and gave one last pat on the cute pug’s head.
In her car, a beat-up, 1969 Volkswagen Beetle, the only car she could afford when she moved to L.A., Sabine set her phone on a holder clamped to the windshield. While the engine whined and sputtered, she dialed the one person from home she wasn’t ignoring.
“Aye, ye need more money?” her brother, Shane, answered.
“I’ll let ye know in an hour. I’m supposed to be picking up a down payment for a job.”
“What kind of job? Do I have to drink myself