“Not here. Not yet, anyway. He called me earlier. He met a girl.”

“Here? A local?”

He shrugged. “He didn’t have a lot of time to talk. I guess she’s a waitress or something.”

“Interesting. Oh, fuck. Tyler,” I said, seeing Agent Trexler stop at the front desk. He flirted with Darby the desk clerk for a few seconds before heading toward the automatic doors, noticing Tyler as he passed through. When he didn’t stop, I exhaled a sigh of relief.

“Taylor’s got a handle on it,” Tyler said.

“How?”

“He just does. Gotta go.”

To my surprise, Tyler leaned down to kiss my cheek before following Liam to the conference room. When he opened the door, I saw a lot of official-looking people standing at the head of the table, holding down the newly unrolled papers fighting to return to their previous position. There were phone calls being made, tapping on iPads, and typing on laptops. The hotshots were standing around, waiting for orders while the TAC team gathered information. I saw some of my boys for half a second before the doors closed, arms crossed and looking tough until Puddin’ caught a glimpse of me and waved like a kid seeing his parents from the stage at a school recital.

“Hanging in there, Stavros?” Darby asked, leaning on the bar. Her white button-down was perfectly pressed, her red lips matte and perfectly lined, her black slacks lint-free, and her honey-colored mid-ponytail pulled tight, not a single hair out of place. With her curves and million-dollar smile, I wondered if Darby was a former pageant queen. Every movement she made was elegant, every smile planned.

I glanced over at her, immediately suspicious. Trexler had been flirting with her earlier. Maybe she was an agent, too.

“The firefighters don’t tip,” Stavros grumbled. “And so far, all of them are straight.”

“It’s been like this for a week,” Darby said, resting her chin on the heel of her hand.

I felt my body stiffen, worried to say or do anything that might help Trexler with his investigation of Tyler’s family.

“Are you all right?” Darby asked.

“Who was that guy who just left? The one who talked to you before rushing out the door?”

“Trex?” she asked, her eyes instantly sparkling at the sound of his name on her lips.

“Yeah,” I said.

“He’s a firefighter, staying here until the fire is out. He’s like … some kind of special crew. He’s not a hotshot or ground crew. He doesn’t really talk about it.”

“Like fire secret service?” I asked, only half-teasing.

She giggled, although the sound seemed awkward coming from her, as if she wasn’t used to laughing. “Probably. He’s about that uptight.”

“So you don’t know him?” I asked, wondering why he’d lied to her.

“A little.”

“Just a little?” Stavros said with a smirk.