it’s not a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Devlin snaps.
“Of course not,” Tamra says quickly. “I didn’t mean—”
“No. Of course you didn’t.” He presses his fingers to his temple, then reaches out for me. I take his hand and squeeze, offering him my strength. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—” He draws in a breath. “I didn’t realize how on edge I am.”
“Understandably,” Tamra says. “And you should know that you don’t have to worry about being yourself around me.”
“I know,” he says, “and I love you for it. I am sorry about the desk. Neither of us is superstitious, but why don’t we order a new one. Start fresh with our new hire.”
“Of course. And I’ve already called the agency. They’ll start screening candidates to fill the position today.”
“Thanks, Tamra.”
“Of course.” She nods to the double doors that lead to his office. “Penn and Claire are already inside,” she adds. “Are you ready, or do you need a moment? I can tell them you were held up.”
“No, it’s fine. Ellie?”
I nod. I don’t know either of them, but out here I feel the loss too potently. The times I laughed with Anna. Tracy’s wide smile and eagerness to learn everything she could.
“All right then,” Tamra says as she leans over to push the button to open the doors to his office. The huge wooden doors swing open automatically, and as always, I feel as if the motion should be accompanied by a rousing classical score. But it’s just doors, and I follow Devlin inside, curious to see who we’re meeting.
Penn turns out to be Cory Pennfield and Claire is his wife, who both rise to greet us. Claire is tall and thin with a wide smile, and she pretty much towers over Penn who stands at least six inches shorter, with the stocky build of a wrestler. “So nice to meet you,” Clair says, as we take our seats. Penn and Claire on the sofa with me in one of the chairs and Devlin perched on the arm, his hand resting on my shoulder.
“They’ve both worked with me for, what?” Devlin asks. “Over five years now?”
“Hard to believe we’ve put up with him so long,” Claire says, aiming a grin my direction. “Fortunately, he’s easy on the eyes, so that makes the assignments more palatable.”
“You’ll have to forgive my wife. Her favorite hobby is to flirt with Devlin.”
“I keep trying to get a reaction,” she says, laughing. “I’ve never managed.” Her smile widens. “Now I see why. He’s been waiting for the right woman to come along.”
“I had to,” Devlin says. “Penn would have beat the shit out of me if I’d fallen prey to your killer smile.”
“Hey,” I say, feigning indignation.
“Oh, and the little fact that I was in love with someone else.” He takes my hand, then raises it to his lips and kisses it.
“All kidding aside,” Claire says, “it’s wonderful to finally meet you. Devlin’s talked a lot about you over the years.”
“I—” I turn to him, confused. “You have?”
“Penn’s known me as long as Ronan has. Claire a bit less.”
“Devlin and Penn served together,” she said. “And I met Penn in a rather unconventional way.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised and pleased to know he’d talked about me back then. I pause, expecting her to elaborate on the story of how they met. She doesn’t, though, and so I clear my throat and add, “So, um, Devlin sort of suggested you might have information about Tracy’s murder. Or who leaked his identity?” I realize as I speak that I’m not exactly sure what he meant when he said “source” at breakfast.
“Claire and Penn are two of the original members of Saint’s Angels, and they run the Midwestern operation. I’ve asked them to work on the investigation into Blackstone, especially since he’s based in Chicago.”
“Great,” I say. “Have you learned anything so far?”
“We know he was here in Orange County for the past four days,” Penn says. “At the moment, he’s on a flight back to Illinois.”
“And I know that he killed Tracy,” Devlin adds. “But I’m not going forward without proof. My girlfriend has standards, after all.”
“She does,” I agree. “Do you have any proof yet?”
“We’re making progress,” Claire says. “Give us another twelve hours and we’ll update.”
I look between the three of them, impressed by how quickly the wheels have begun turning.
Devlin draws a breath and looks at each of them in turn. “I want to know where he goes when he lands. Home? His office? A safe house? Somewhere else