Special Agent Alastair Burke was part of the FBI’s specialized Art Crime Team. The group—made up of a small team of agents—was in charge of investigating art theft and recovering stolen artifacts. He’d been equal parts roadblock and ally to Treasure Hunter Security over the years. Burke had stonewalled THS before on certain jobs. She forced her face to stay cool and composed. He might feed Dec and Cal information sometimes, but for her, it didn’t outweigh the times he was a damn thorn in their side.
Besides, the way he looked at the office, looked at her… The man just thought he was superior to everyone else.
“I need to speak to Declan.”
Darcy crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry. He’s not here.”
Burke’s face was impassive. “He’s in Egypt. On the Rhodes dig.”
She hated that he always had information he shouldn’t. She guessed that’s what made him good at his job, but it still irritated. She stayed silent and kept her gaze on his.
Burke sighed. “I need his number.”
“You’re the fancy special agent, can’t you find out his number?”
Burke’s eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to her. So close she felt the heat radiating off him and his crisp, clean cologne hit her senses.
“You want me to arrest you for obstructing—”
The other man moved now. He smiled at her and Darcy noted he was younger than Burke with a clean-cut face and what could be some Indian heritage. “We’re sorry to intrude, Ms. Ward. I’m Special Agent Thomas Singh. We have information we think your brother might need.”
“Are you the good agent to his bad agent?” She nodded at Burke.
Agent Singh’s smile widened. “He can’t do good agent. Just not capable. So I’m usually stuck with it, although I do a mean bad agent.” His smile morphed into a scowl.
“Singh,” Burke growled. Then his laser-sharp gaze pinned her again. “It’s about Ian Anders.”
Darcy froze.
“And Silk Road.”
She hissed out a breath. She didn’t know much about the shadowy black-market antiquities ring. Not for lack of trying. But even with her best hacking, she’d discovered very little about them. She knew she didn’t want them messing with her brother.
“I can talk to Dec. Ask him if I can give you his number.”
Burke stepped closer and it made Darcy hate the fact she was short, even in her heels.
“I could force you to give it to me.”
She lifted her chin. “Try it.”
He stared down at her.
“Uh…no, that’s fine,” Agent Singh said. “We’ll wait while you call your brother.”
Darcy yanked her Bluetooth headset on and walked across the warehouse, taking a few deep breaths.
But she still felt Burke’s gaze on her.
Declan stepped out onto the street and slipped his sunglasses on.
“I cannot believe how much you paid for it.”
He could practically feel the anger wafting off Rush. He eyed her and her flushed cheeks. She was kind of cute when she was riled up.
“I know you don’t like it, but we got your artifact back.” It was safely wrapped and tucked into his backpack. “And Hasan will let us know if Anders comes back.”
She gave a resigned nod and together they headed down the street. “So, you and this Anders have a history.”
Dec stiffened and didn’t look at her. She hadn’t made it a question. “Yes.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”
He stopped and swung her around to face him. “Anders is dangerous and you’re damned lucky to be alive. That’s all you need to know.”
She stared at Dec for a second. “You can just say ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’” She pulled her arm from his grip. “So, what now?”
Dec exhaled a long breath, trying to push back the dark anger churning in him. “I’ve already sent a text to my tech expert to find out anything new on Anders. I need to know why he’s after Zerzura, and why he’s going off his usual script.” It made Declan nervous. Anders was dangerous enough without adding unpredictable and desperate to the mix.
“Well, the university offices are a few blocks from here,” Layne said.
They were halfway there when Dec felt a tingle along his senses. He slowed and scanned the street, but nothing stood out in the hustle and bustle.
His phone rang, vibrating in his pocket. “Hang on, Rush.” He opened his phone. “Ward.”
“Dec, it’s Darcy. How’s Egypt?”
“Warm.”
His sister sighed. “Always a man of many words.”