East End: The Hear No Evil Trilogy, Book 1 Read online

  Ben expelled a long breath of air. “East, tell me something good.”

  All I had for him was disappointment. “Sorry mate. Chaka Khan I’m not. Telly and I could find nothing. The closest he came to leaving a trail was early in his career thirty years ago when Roger Kincade almost had him. Kincade winged him with a bullet, but he still vanished into the ether. His DNA is on file though.”

  Ben crossed his arms and started to pace. “So what, he has us by the bollocks and now he runs us? Controls us?”

  Bridge coughed. “The fuck he does.”

  “I’m working on tracking him. It’ll take time. We might have to take it a step further and see what he asks for.”

  “I don’t fucking like it,” Bridge ground out.

  “None of us like it, mate, but we are where we are.”

  Bridge’s jaw ticked. Something was up with him. I felt it, but there was no getting it out of him until he was good and ready to talk.

  “At least tell me you are somewhere with Agent Kincade,” Ben said.

  And by somewhere he doesn’t mean fantasizing about her every night while you wank off and sniff her shawl.

  Fucking hell, I did that one time. Once… okay twice. It had been almost a week since the hospital benefit, and it was like the woman had poisoned me with her kiss. Injected me with her essence so that now I couldn’t fucking breathe without thinking about her.

  Well maybe you shouldn’t have kissed her.

  My dick twitched with his tacit disagreement. Christ.

  I cleared my throat. “I’ve dealt with her father. She won’t be a problem.” You mean you hope she won’t be a problem.

  Bridge raised a brow but said nothing. But I could see him trying to ferret out what I was hiding. Ben was clearly distracted because he could usually see through me better than anyone.

  “I’ve also got surveillance set up on her, so I’m watching.”

  Drew smirked. “I’ll bet you’re watching.”

  I normally didn’t give a shit when they ribbed me about my voyeuristic tendencies, but now it felt somehow inappropriate.

  Because really, what was a little light cyber-stalking between friends? If she was coming after us, I needed to know everything about her. Right down to what perfume she wore. That information led to an adequate profile.

  Or maybe you needed to know the scent that has been haunting you.

  “I have tapped into the CCTV cameras across from her flat. I have a camera in her flat, but I’m leaving it inactive for now. I have one at her desk at work as well as a separate bug. Again, I’ll leave that camera off unless we need it. I didn’t want to be too intrusive.”

  Which was unusual. I could be intrusive as hell. I liked being intrusive.

  Bridge rubbed his jaw. “Maybe Telly should have a look at the beautiful agent to make sure she’s backed off since you seem distracted."

  “Telly?” I jerked back as if I’d been slapped. “Low blow, mate. You know she’s my hacker nemesis.”

  “Yes, but does she know you two are nemesi? Nemeses? How the fuck do you say the plural of nemesis?” Ben muttered under his breath.

  I narrowed my gaze at my former best mate. “Et tu, Bennett?”

  He merely shrugged. “Mates, I feel exposed and you lot know full well we have targets on our backs. The sooner we can get a handle on one of these guys the better. Our work isn’t done.”

  The Van Linsteds had tied themselves into a nice little knot. Jameson was headed that way himself with his shady business dealings and his father’s obsession with art. There was so much potential for corruption, and that could help us out along the way.

  Middleton appeared clean, but I knew he wasn’t. His hands had been sullied ten years ago; his family was just better at hiding it. They were professionals at spinning narratives in their crisis management agency, after all.

  If nothing else his family had been covering up for his sins.

  Bridge nodded. "If East can't find something, it's well hidden, or he’s lost his touch and we'll need more time. It’s better to be as surgical as possible, and we will. After all, we are the London Lords. Well, Ben is half a lord now since he gave his balls to Liv."

  Ben cleared his throat. "Seriously, mates, I'm right here. Big hairy brass ones perfectly intact, thanks."

  I rolled my eyes. "Would everyone just shut the fuck up? All of you. I know that you think I can just punch a couple of numbers and yeah, I’ll Hogwarts my way into something good. We need something we can use. Something that will stick. And right now, we don't have it. Unless our not-so-illustrious leader wants to dig into Elite inner workings."

  Jameson was a twat. And if I had to, I was going to use Theroux to get him just where we wanted him.

  Ben met my gaze. "Grousing and shit talking aside, we know you’ll get what we need. If Jameson is the one we can get dirt on, then he's the one we’ll take down first. We'll make it work."

  "What we have is a start. We’ll need more. I need access to his computer, which means getting into his office. The old man’s birthday is this coming weekend. Distaste or not, we’ll be invited. Ben is the most powerful man in the entire world. We are his entourage. And we are the London Lords. No one can touch us."

  Except Theroux.

  Bridge stroked his jaw. "First of all, I’m nobody’s entourage. But also, there are two sides to every coin. As powerful as we are, there are others who would do anything for that power. We need to be careful.”

  “That we do,” mumbled Ben. “Oh, before I go, East didn’t you say your mother had the name of some designer for Livy for her wedding dress?”

  “Oh yeah. It’s in my wallet. Let me grab that for you.” I shoved away from my bank of monitors over to the entryway where I normally left it, but it wasn’t there.

  With a frown, I checked the closet in case I’d left it in my trench from yesterday when it was pouring down. Still no luck. I eventually found it next to my nightstand. Riffling through it while I walked, I found the business card I was looking for. My mother, she really did like to keep it old school.

  My feet halted when I found something else. A tiny square film on the inside sleeve. I peered at the little patch. It looked like a computer chip.

  Son of a bitch. She’d bugged me.

  Grinding my teeth, I returned to the living room and gave Ben the card. When everyone left, I grabbed one of my laptops and pulled up my favorite scene, the CCTV camera from the parking tower across from Nyla Kincade's flat.

  As I tapped in the coordinates, I rubbed the smooth silkiness of her shawl that she’d dropped between the fingers of my left hand.

  You have a problem.

  Yes, I did. And the problem's name was Nyla Kincade. Bringing her shawl up to my nose, I took a quick whiff and that heady combination of need and irritation lingered in my blood, sending me to the edge of desire. I watched her. I had never trained the camera on her bedroom, never looked in there, but the sight from her living room was what I focused on. And that was somehow more intimate. I watched her as she cooked and then plopped on her couch to watch TV. My favorite was her in her unicorn fitted pajamas. But that night, she wasn’t wearing her unicorn fitted pajamas. She strolled out of her bedroom in the tiniest pair of shorts I'd ever seen.

  What I wanted to do was pick her up and put her over my knee, but a phone call would have to do.

  Her words were quiet as she answered. “Hello?”

  "Agent Kincade. You've been very naughty."

  Instead of hanging up on me, which she probably should have, she sighed. "East Hale. To what do I owe this very late phone call? Did you mistake my phone number for a phone sex line?"

  "I can get women to talk dirty to me any time I like."

  Her chuckle was low. "I’ll bet you can.”

  “For such a naughty little thing, I’d have thought you’d be more contrite.”

  She strolled past her windows, hips sashaying as she went. All the blood in my rational brain rushed to my dick. “You are goin
g to have to be more specific. This has been that kind of day. Did I scratch your precious car? Perhaps I made your day more difficult. And if you are going to tear me a new one, I would advise you maybe take a number. The line for that can get quite long, you see."

  I frowned at that. She'd had a hard day?

  Not that it matters to you in the least.

  Nope, it didn't matter. But still, I didn’t want to make her day worse.

  "I'm sorry you've had a shitty day. I have an idea or two of things that might cheer you up."

  Her chuckle was soft. Lilting. "Oh, I'm sure you do. But alas, that's not going to happen. I don’t kiss arrogant men.”

  “Now, don’t add lying to your day’s transgressions.”

  “What is it you want, Mr. Hale?"

  "Well, Agent Kincade, I would like your assistance. It seems that someone has bugged me."

  There was a beat of silence. "That’s probably something you should take to the police."

  "Aren’t you the police?”

  “I’m Interpol; my cases are different. If you like I can provide you with the number—”

  “That won’t be necessary. But thank you for being so helpful. I think I’ll speak to your section chief again. I met him once. He seems like a reasonable sort.”

  More silence.

  That was okay, she knew I had her. If she wanted to play cat and mouse, I wanted her to be very clear on who was the predator and who was the prey. “I have to say, I’m impressed. It was at the hospital gala, right? When I was so busy falling into your eyes and you were flirting with me."

  That earned me a scoff. "Please, when I flirt, you'll know.”

  A smile teased my lips. The more she defied me and fought back, the harder I became. "I know Interpol plays by a different set of rules, but you ought to play by the rules of the country you are stationed in, and illegal bugging is a big no-no."

  "Good thing I would never do such a thing. I’m a good little agent."

  Fuck, I was so hard.

  As if she could read the direction of my thoughts, she perked up. "Also, Mr. Hale, dare I ask, how have you gotten hold of my phone number?"

  "Ingenuity."

  "Right. Ingenuity."

  "I decided to call you to tell you that whatever you think you're doing, you're in way over your head. You need to back off."

  "That's the thing, Mr. Hale. I have a tendency not to give up on anything. I mean, of course, that’s if I was interested in you. Which I'm not."

  I chuckled then even as I rubbed the soft silk of her shawl and inhaled. "You are intriguing, Agent Kincade. So let me help you out. Why don't you tell me what it is you want from me, and I'll tell you if I can give it to you or not."

  She’d disappeared from my camera feed, and I could hear rustling, as if she was moving around in her bed. "Mr. Hale, I promise that you don't have anything I want."

  "Are you sure about that? I think you're intrigued by me. I think you can feel the hum between us. I think that after that kiss, you could still taste me. Hell, I would wager you can still taste me right now. You know that low pulsing between your thighs? The one that you've been trying to ignore? The one that you've been telling yourself isn't good for you? That's because of me. I make you feel that way. And it really, really is a shame that you thought you could get away with bugging me. Because I’ve made a decision, and I don't intend to be fair." I rubbed the silk of her shawl with my fingers again, the faint hint of honeysuckle making me ache.

  "First of all, Mr. Hale, I want to remind you that you're talking to an Interpol agent. Second of all, I'm not afraid of you. I have dealt with bigger and badder men. And I put them in jail too. You poke at me, and I'll poke at you."

  "Oooh, kinky. Should I remind you that you fired the first shot?"

  There was another beat of silence. "You can't prove that I bugged you, so it’s a stalemate."

  "That's the best part. I don't need proof. You're the one who's afflicted with that burn, not me. So since it's open season, I should probably mention to you that I really, really like the shorts you’re wearing."

  There was a hitch in her breath, and I could hear her swallow. "What?"

  "They’re cute. And also, you should probably close the blinds of your flat. A T-shirt that says, 'Woke up fine as hell' and boy shorts? While I appreciate the view, I will say, so does half of London."

  She came back into the living room and whipped around, searching for me somewhere on the street. "You arsehole."

  “If you say so.”

  "You want my address? I can give it to you. Come find me anytime."

  I liked her. She was fire and spunk, and just a bit shy of crazy. And I wanted her. And that was a real big fucking problem.

  The real question was, what was I going to do about her attempt to tap us? Because if she tapped my fucking wallet and I hadn't been paying attention, what else had she gotten her hands on? "Sleep tight, Agent Kincade. We'll be speaking again soon."

  7

  East

  "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" I mumbled.

  Bridge's voice was mellow as he chuckled. "Yeah, I pressed the knobs and buttons, hoping I’d get it right. Right?"

  A feeling of unease settled over me. "Jesus fucking Christ, all you have to do is look at the cameras and make sure no one's in this hallway. How hard can that be?"

  I could hear the sounds of the birthday party in the background as Ben chimed in. "Bridge, stop fucking with him. East, I know you're used to being in the van, but Bridge can manage it. Besides, you're the one that has the expertise to hack into the computer and get any information we need. So suck it up, buttercup."

  "I will have you know that I was the one who actually did a stint in clandestine services."

  I could hear Bridge groan. "Yeah, and you never let us forget it, mate.”

  More sounds from the party filtered through the comms, and Drew chimed in, sounding nervous. "Can we just get this show on the road? You're making me nervous."

  Ben chuckled then. "Easy, Drew. This is the simple part. We do nothing and look innocent. East does the breaking in. When he arrives to the party late, we make it seem like he was here all along. It's not that hard."

  Drew mumbled something along the lines of, "Speak for yourself."

  Something was going on with him. As a general rule, I didn’t play lookie-loo on my mates. We had a trust barrier. I didn't poke around in their lives, and no one asked questions when I poked around in other people's lives. But there was something going on with Drew for sure, so I might have to break that rule.

  "Look, Bridge, don't fucking touch anything. Just tell me when someone comes down this hallway."

  "Yeah, yeah. Sure, which hallway?"

  I was going to kill him. He was in my SUV playing around with my equipment.

  That sounds dirty.

  Well, it felt like a personal violation. "Tell me you're not serious."

  Bridge sighed. "I'm not a moron. I also did a stint in the clandestine services. I just don't like the spy information stuff."

  "Fine, just make sure the hallway's clear."

  I went to the supply closet. I had walked in with my mates as usual. Had a glass of champagne. Talked to several people. Flirted, all the while winding my way around to the south hallway near the servants’ quarters where I turned on the infrared blockers that had been tucked into my tuxedo.

  No one had even noticed that I was filling out my tuxedo a little more today. Although one woman had run her hand over my chest and asked me to dance, but she noticed nothing different about me.

  But yeah, I looked like I'd packed on about fifteen pounds of muscle, mostly because I needed the tux to go over my other outfit. The one that was going let me steal the information, sneak it out of the party, and then return and change clothes.

  I looked at my watch timer, waiting for the thirty-second countdown.

  Right on cue, Bridge began the countdown, so I at least knew he was paying attention.


  Ben's voice was low. "Affirmative.”

  Drew chimed in. "Affirmative.”

  And we were a go. Black mask on, camera's down, lights low, I had five minutes. That's all it would take. As expected, there was no one in the hallway. It was smooth, almost too smooth and easy. My mask was pulled down. If a guard should happen to not be in position and come wandering, I knew where my exits were. I just had to follow the plan.

  I knew exactly where the senior Jameson's office was. All of us had spent enough time in each of these mansions owned by the older Elite members as teenagers to know our way around. So many parties, so many graduations, so many ceremonies.

  With an easy decryption of the keypad located outside Jameson’s office, I located the laptop with ease. He’d also done me the favor of not shutting down or logging out. I couldn’t help but shake my head. Had they never heard of cyber security? Copying of the files was easy. Far too easy.

  Paranoid, I checked the signal jammer attached to my hip. The little red light was on, so any transmitting devices in this room wouldn’t transmit. So why was I so on edge?

  Three minutes. I checked the computer. The decryption was complete, and the files had been copied. Thank fucking Christ.

  I pulled out the flash drive, eased out the door, and quietly closed it behind me. I was moving briskly down the hall when I heard a feminine voice. "Hey, who the hell are you?"

  I froze. I knew that voice. Despite my best instincts, I turned to look over my shoulder, and even though I still had my mask on, her eyes went wide, almost as if she knew exactly who I was. I had two choices: try and talk my way out of there or run.

  I chose to run.

  Nyla

  It would be a lie if I said I wasn’t disappointed.

  Thanks to Amelia’s mother's connections, the red carpet had been rolled out for us for this birthday party of a man I didn't know. Amelia had to attend anyway, and I was her plus one. These people with the glitterati lifestyle weren’t really my speed. I’d never really understood the world Amelia came from. When I’d met her at MI5, she’d been trying to run away from her former life. But over the last three years her mother insisted on dragging her back, kicking and screaming.