Living in the same city with him wasn’t the end of the world. Not at all. Chicago was plenty big enough that running into each other wasn’t exactly that big of an issue. He’d worked in the high-class section of the city; she’d worked on the fringes. Hadn’t been a problem … until this year.
From the moment Jim Colby had told her the Equalizers were merging with the Colby Agency, Von had known this moment might come.
But she’d hoped.
She’d even prayed.
Well, sort of.
Now the nightmare she’d wished to avoid was becoming reality.
She would be forced to work with Trinity Barrett, her ex-husband.
After hitting the key fob and climbing into the driver’s seat of her SUV, she jammed the key into the ignition and started the engine. She took a slow, deep breath and relaxed to the degree possible.
She could do this.
It wasn’t the end of the world, Von reminded herself. Not really. Yes, it would be awkward and annoying and damned frustrating working with him. But there was every reason to anticipate that she would certainly survive the challenge.
He, however, might not.
Chapter Four
Rogers Park, 4:30 p.m. (3 hours missing)
Trinity waited at the corner of the block, the rendezvous point.
She was almost here.
Evonne Cassidy. Von. His ex-wife.
Trinity hiked his shoulders in an effort to relieve some of the stress. He should have resigned ten months ago when Victoria announced that the Equalizers were merging with the Colby Agency. But Trinity loved his work at the Colby Agency. He’d hoped that Von would do the right thing and decide not to come onboard at the agency.
But she’d done exactly the opposite.
Five years ago they had made the decision to end their volatile relationship. Problem was, neither of them had been willing to leave Chicago. Determined to make a fresh start Trinity had, in time, signed on with the Colby Agency. A couple years later he’d heard through mutual friends that Von had taken a position at another PI type firm, but he hadn’t known until a few days later that it was Victoria Colby’s son’s firm.
That fact hadn’t been a problem until this year.
Until then, Trinity and Von hadn’t spoken since the divorce finalized, not for any reason. Shortly after the announced merger earlier this year, they’d had a face-to-face meeting in neutral territory. A decision to keep their history private had been reached. There had been no need to drag their tumultuous shared past into the present. They would be cordial to each other at work and if they were lucky, a mutual assignment wouldn’t come up.
So much for luck.
He watched her SUV roll to a stop at the curb. This was it. No turning back.
They were professionals. They were both dedicated to their work. There was no time to deal with personal issues under the circumstances.
A child was in danger.
Von slid from behind the wheel, shoved the door shut with her hip and hit the key fob to initiate the vehicle’s security system. Her trendy slacks and matching coat were signature Von. She liked being comfortable, but she never sacrificed fashion to make it happen. Somehow she always looked like she’d just stepped off a runway in the most casual of clothes.
Trinity swallowed hard as she marched toward him. He’d seen her every single weekday this year at the office. No matter, each time his internal reaction was the same—uncertainty, yearning … frustration.
Fool he was, even five years hadn’t changed the way just watching her move made him feel. One thing was an absolute certainty, he would take that particular secret with him to his grave.
Giving her the satisfaction of knowing that she had the upper hand on his heart was one humiliation he had no desire to experience.
“Just received word from Simon that there are two possible addresses where Larkin has been known to hang out,” she announced as she strode toward Trinity’s position on the sidewalk.
Simon Ruhl was one of Victoria and Jim’s seconds in command. Possessing deep connections within the FBI, Simon could generally reach out to his contacts for swift and relevant information.
“Excellent,” Trinity acknowledged the news. It was a starting point. Rogers Park had more than its share of less than savory characters and locations. Wasting time sifting through them all was less than optimum under the circumstances.
Glancing past Trinity, then in the other direction, Von asked, “Where’s Jim?”
Jim Colby was the former head of the Equalizers. It had taken time, but the crew who’d come onboard from the Equalizers and the staff at the Colby Agency had learned to consider both Jim and Victoria “the boss.” Trinity doubted Von’s question about Jim had anything to do with her considering him her actual boss. Most likely she had hoped a third party would be around to provide a buffer between the two of them. Trinity had hoped for the same. Just another example of how luck had deserted him completely today.
“He’s on the phone with Chicago PD.” Trinity pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck. “They’re not too happy that we got the jump on their investigation. Larkin’s neighbor mentioned we’d been in the apartment. Jim’s doing damage control.”
Von made a disapproving face. “That’s ridiculous. Who cares who got the jump? Finding the kid is the goal here.”
Her lack of patience with the rules was a leftover of Equalizer methodology. That tactic had slowly but surely been overcome in recent months. Von, like the others, had learned the Colby way of conducting an investigation. Granted, this situation called for swift, decisive action, still some amount of interfacing was necessary when boundaries were breached.
Enemies were easy to make. Allies were far more difficult to attain and even harder to keep. The Colby Agency prided itself on cultivating and maintaining strong allies.
“Where to first?” she prompted.
Trinity kicked aside the distractions and gestured to the apartment building to their right. “Kobi Larkin has a sister who lives on the second floor. The sister, according to neighbors, has refused to speak to him since he and Wanda divorced. We’re hoping she can point us in the right direction.”
“Larkin may be scum,” Von commented as they crossed the street, “but he’s still the woman’s brother.” She shook her head as she surveyed both ends of the block once more. “In my experience a perp’s family is rarely any real help so I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
Trinity couldn’t cite any recent examples to dispute her assertion. But they had to try every avenue, no matter how remote.
Like the building where Wanda Larkin lived, this one was rundown and dingy.
