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  “And,” Sean added, “I’ve talked to him twice today. He’s already getting the FBI a list of businesses in the greater San Antonio area that are waiting for a software upgrade. It might help narrow down the potential targets.”

  “Talk to your contact in Cyber Crimes and get his okay first, I’ll shoot off an email to Rachel to cover my butt.”

  “And your profile?” Nate asked.

  “It’s basic because we don’t have a lot of information, but in a nutshell, I think Sam Trembly is grieving over the death of his friend. They grew up together, worked together, they were practically inseparable. He might not be thinking clearly—which is a problem because SueAnn and Kirk are wild. They wanted to shoot me.”

  Sean put his hand on her shoulder, squeezed.

  “I think they’re two peas in a pod and feed off each other. Separate them and they might not be as violent, but together they will do anything, and I don’t say that lightly. Amanda is smart. She doesn’t want to be caught, she thinks everything through clearly. Sam listens to her, he depends on her. This entire escape was her brainchild. And if we’re right about her computer background she has been planning this for a long time. She used the skills of her team to get it done, meaning she’s good with asset management. She knows who can do what and sets them on the task. But she overthinks and she might get caught up in her own elaborate plans. They’ll need to adjust the plans because Jacob is in prison, but they’re capable of doing it.”

  “So the mother isn’t involved?” Nate said.

  “Not in the heists, but she’s involved in the planning. The family dynamic at the Thomsen house—they deferred to the mother. Maybe humored her, but listening to her and seeing how she talked to them, she is definitely involved. They must have a safe house somewhere in the city—and I would guess relatively close to where they plan to hit. But they went up to Brady because Reggie was killed and they knew Sam was compromised. They wanted to regroup, let some time pass. Whether they had additional robberies planned or not, we don’t know, but this one—the one tonight or tomorrow—is the big one. The final act, and then they’ll disappear. So I suggested that we handle this in a two-prong fashion—work to stop them, but simultaneously find their safe house. That’s why I was making these lists of names. If one of them pops up in the investigation, we look more closely. Of course, they could be using a shell corp or a completely fake identity—but it’s a start. And the mother is the protector—she will most likely be the one who set up the safe house and wherever they’re going to retire.”

  “That’s a lot in two hours,” Nate said. “Good work.”

  Nate and Sean went back to Cyber Crimes, and Lucy sent her memo off to Rachel. She hoped she wasn’t too far off, and she wished it weren’t so vague. She didn’t think there was anything here that would give their team enough time to locate the crew—or where they were going to hit.

  But she was very certain about one thing: This next heist was going to be big.

  Very big.

  Chapter Nine

  Early Sunday Evening

  FBI Headquarters

  Mike Crutcher stepped into the small conference room that they were using to monitor the investigation. “You were wrong, Kincaid.”

  Lucy bristled, but before she could speak, Crutcher continued, “All the jewelry stores are now closed, they didn’t hit tonight. We just wasted an entire day when my guess is they are long gone.”

  It was nearly dark. She was tired and sore and crabby and wanted to go home. Sean was in the middle of a complex security analysis with the head of the cybercrime unit, and she and Nate had been at desks all day making calls and analyzing information. Kane and Siobhan had arrived at the house an hour ago and were entertaining Jesse, but Lucy wanted to see her family more than sit here to be yelled at and ridiculed by a fellow agent.

  “I’m not wrong,” she said. “I’ve looked at the list Cyber Crimes put together, and there are two banks that meet the criteria—both downtown, and both with over a million dollars of assets in their vaults—not to mention whatever is in the safe-deposit boxes. Zach and Cyber Crimes are working on assessing the potential of those targets, and—”

  He cut her off. “You mean your husband.”

  “I mean Zach,” she snapped. “And Sean, with the permission of Cyber Crimes. Just because they haven’t hit something this big before doesn’t mean this wasn’t always in their plan.”

  He looked at her as if she were an idiot. “Out of all the robberies attributed to Trembly’s gang, they have never broken into a vault. Those two banks have the highest level of security, over and above the flawed security software system. And if either of them is the target, the hit won’t be until Tuesday—and we can cover both of them. So go home, relax, and let those of us who have worked white-collar crimes for a few years do our job.”

  Nate was getting ready to jump on Crutcher, so Lucy had to do something and stand up for herself. “Agent Crutcher,” she said, “I don’t think you’ve read one word of our reports, but Amanda Trembly worked for the security company who designed the security for those two banks. They called in every one of their techs today to determine whether she might have created the software flaw to begin with—her supervisor said she has the skills to do so. And while there are more than three dozen businesses that still have the flawed software, those are the only two that have a big enough payday that the gang can retire.”

  “If that’s their plan—you’re relying on the memory of a scared eight-year-old. We have one of the highest-ranked white-collar units in the FBI. We’ve been doing this a long time, Kincaid.”

  “These aren’t traditional white-collar criminals. You need to contact the bank managers and have them do something different—sending in private guards starting now would be a good start.”

  “Those two banks you mentioned are completely secure when they’re closed. There’s no way they can get in without every law enforcement agency knowing about it, software flaw notwithstanding. I talked to the head of the security company myself, and he assured me that the external security isn’t compromised, it’s only internal security. That’s why they have to wait until the bank is open before they hit. One thing I’ve learned is that robbers rarely change their M.O., that there is a reason that it works for them. And now you know.”

  “I think you’re wrong.”

  “Noted,” he said dismissively. “Tuesday morning, we’ll be all over both of them—you can be a part of the solution, if you can learn to take direction.”

  “Maybe you should learn to take advice.”

  “From a rookie?”

  “You’re already on thin ice, Crutcher,” Nate said.

  “Go home, both of you,” Crutcher said. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight.”

  Lucy walked out before she said anything that would get her in more trouble. Fortunately, Nate followed—he was just as angry.

  “He’s an asshole,” Lucy said.

  “Yes, he is,” Nate agreed. “I’ll get Sean.”

  “No—I’m writing a memo. I don’t want to go over his head, but I think this is one of those situations where asking for forgiveness is preferable to asking for permission. But if you want to talk to Daphne in Cyber Crimes—not Sean, because he’ll back my play no matter what—do it. She’s brilliant, and has a lot of respect here. I know she and Sean have had their heads together all afternoon. If she signs off on my memo, that’ll give us more clout.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Lucy went to her desk and wrote out everything she knew as fact and her educated theory about why the Trembly gang was going to hit one of the two banks—one on Broadway, one on Commerce—tonight or anytime Monday, a national holiday. She didn’t know how yet—while Crutcher was a prick, he was a smart prick, and Sean had confirmed that the external security was intact. How could they get inside the bank without compromising external security?

  It might not matter if they knew how . . . Lucy was confident of the when. She tried
to keep her personal opinion out of the memo and rely solely on the facts that they knew and her expertise when it came to criminal psychology. She also relied on the preliminary report that Daphne Goodall, the SSA of Cyber Crimes, had written. One thing Sean was good at was figuring out who in an organization had authority and making that person his best friend. It had worked with Daphne and the VCMO analyst Zach Charles, who both sang his praises. It helped that all three of them were smart and talked the same language—a language that often went over Lucy’s head. She was more than competent with computers, but she much preferred working with humans than machines.

  She finished quickly, because she had most of the information already compiled. She sent it off to Daphne for her review and asked if she would be willing to co-sign it with Lucy. Daphne read the message, then nothing . . .

  And nothing for more than twenty minutes. Her memo was only three pages, how long did it take to read?

  She was about to call Sean when Daphne responded with one sentence:

  I need you here now.

  Nothing more, and she didn’t want to read anything good—or bad—into it. She went down the hall to Cyber Crimes, which was jumping with people. A map of downtown San Antonio was projected on the whiteboard with two red marks and some lines and notes that Lucy couldn’t decipher.

  “I sent your memo under both our names,” Daphne said as soon as Lucy entered. “It’s out of our hands right now—I sent it to Crutcher, and cc’d your boss and my boss.” Because Daphne was an SSA, her direct supervisor was Abigail Durant, the ASAC who supervised several of the squads. “I added two important facts: The first is that these two banks we identified as being high-risk targets are both directly over the San Antonio River Tunnel. And I went through your initial report from this morning, Lucy, and focused on the fact that Trembly and Hansen both worked in construction. They’ve never had a job in San Antonio that we could find, but we learned that the senior Sam Trembly worked for the construction company that helped build the tunnel more than twenty years ago. It was under construction for ten years. He would have been privy to blueprints, maps, service tunnels—we don’t have that information at our fingertips, but I already reached out to the Army Corps of Engineers and they’re going to get back to me.”

  Lucy was floored. “So—you think they’re going to use those tunnels?”

  “Crutcher is right about the external security, and I asked Sean to run through scenarios and the response time is less than five minutes if they are breeched—maybe seven minutes with weather-related issues. Even if they created diversions like they did in their escape, there are too many potential access points to those two banks on surface streets to create enough diversions to prevent a swift response, even if they plan to escape underground. I have no idea how they’re going to get in, but with the kind of information they may have had access to, it’s certainly possible.”

  She guzzled half a bottle of water before continuing. “I asked that Crutcher put together two teams to stake out the two banks from now until Tuesday morning.” She hesitated, then smiled and said quietly, “It will ultimately be Durant’s call anyway, to deploy that kind of manpower on a hunch—however well documented and supported that hunch is.”

  “So what now?” Lucy asked.

  “We wait. Durant is out of the office and I asked her assistant to track her down, but it’ll take time and she’ll want to talk to me—I know how she thinks. She’ll do it, I’m eighty percent positive. But we have a few hours. Go home, eat, rest—I’ll call you. I want you there. You know these people.” She glanced over at Nate. “You too, Nate. Get some rest, I promise to call you in.”

  “No objection here,” Nate said. “I’m beat.”

  “That you admit it,” Lucy said, “tells me that you’re about to crash.”

  “One of the benefits of serving in the Army for ten years is that when I crash, I really crash . . . give me thirty minutes and I’ll be as good as new.”

  * * *

  Sean ordered Lucy to go upstairs and rest and Nate to hit the guest room. When he got no complaints from either of them, he knew they were wiped. He found Kane and Jesse in the sunroom playing pool. “Where’s Siobhan?” Sean said after giving his brother a hug.

  “Sleeping. The flight here wasn’t all smooth sailing. A lot of turbulence. Not that bad, but you feel everything in the Cessna. Doesn’t bother me, but Red has a more sensitive disposition.”

  “You sound like you enjoyed her distress.”

  He smiled. “I gave her a double shot of whiskey and told her I’d wake her up when dinner was ready.”

  “So you’re cooking?”

  “Put some steaks in my special marinade and pre-heated the oven for potatoes, but that’s as far as I got. We’re tied at two, and this kid has never been able to beat me before. You’ve taught Jess a lot of your tricks.”

  “Not tricks. Skills.”

  Kane snorted. “Cheating.”

  “I resent that. I don’t have to cheat to win. And Jesse is a quick study.”

  “We’ll finish this game up and I’ll help you in the kitchen. Did I hear Nate’s voice?”

  “He’s taking twenty in the guest room.”

  “Jesse told me what went down yesterday. Surprised the feds let Nate and Lucy come in today.”

  “Bruised and sore, nothing serious. They’re tough.”

  They were down to the eight ball. As Sean watched, Jesse called his shot into the corner pocket. Sean knew he was going to miss it as he set up, but he didn’t say anything. Jesse had to learn on his own.

  Jesse missed and almost dumped the ball in the opposite corner because he hit a bit too hard. Kane called the shot and nailed it perfectly.

  “I really thought I had it,” Jesse said.

  “Age and experience, kid,” Kane said. “Next time I might not be so lucky.”

  “Dad, look what Kane gave me!” Jesse showed Sean a military-grade watch he was now sporting. “It’s just like his. It has a compass built-in and is waterproof. Isn’t it cool?”

  “Totally cool,” Sean said. “Especially since you keep letting your phone die.”

  “Cell phones are unreliable,” Kane said.

  “Not if they’re charged.”

  “Easy to break. That watch is damn near indestructible.”

  “I like it,” Jesse said. “Thanks again, Uncle Kane.”

  “Did you guys walk Bandit?”

  “Yep, and fed him,” Jesse said. “I finished my homework and did my laundry.”

  “You did your laundry? Well, damn, I’m impressed,” Kane said. “I didn’t learn until I was forced to do it in the Marines.”

  “Lucy said her mom made them all do their own laundry growing up and taught me how to use the washer and dryer. It’s not hard.”

  “Just don’t put a red shirt in with your socks,” Kane said.

  They went to the kitchen and Sean put potatoes in to bake, tasked Jesse with making the salad, and Kane was in charge of barbecuing the steaks. Forty-five minutes later Sean went to fetch Lucy. She was crashed in the middle of the bed, still fully dressed, even her shoes. Normally, he’d let her sleep, but she needed fuel. He knew she didn’t want to sit out on any police action tonight.

  He sat on the edge and rubbed her back. “Lucy, time for dinner.”

  “Umm,” she moaned.

  “You can sleep if you want.”

  “Now that I smell food, I’m starving.”

  “Well, come down whenever you want, I’ll make sure there’s something left over.”

  “I’m going to jump in the shower to wake up. I’ll be down soon.” She smiled and stretched.

  He leaned down and kissed her. “Don’t rush.”

  Three hours later they were fully fed, had dessert, and were catching up with Kane and Siobhan. It was close to midnight. Sean had tried to get Lucy to go back to sleep, but she didn’t want to. She was waiting for a call from FBI headquarters—a call that might not even come.

  But i
t did at 12:05 a.m. from Daphne. “It was a battle, but we have two stakeouts being set up. Crutcher was supposed to call you, but he’s nursing his wounds. I’m leading one, Crutcher is leading the other. Can you and Nate be at the Broadway bank ASAP? We’re leaving headquarters now, our ETA is ten minutes. Staging in two tactical vans across the street and one around the corner.”

  “We’ll be there.” She glanced at Sean. “Would you object to a civilian joining us?”

  “If said civilian hasn’t lost his government clearance in the last six hours, absolutely. The more the merrier.”

  Chapter Ten

  Monday Morning—12:24 a.m.

  International Bank of Texas

  Broadway Street

  “What’s the plan?” Nate asked when Daphne cleared them to enter the main tactical truck.

  “Rogan,” she said without answering Nate’s question directly, “Thursgood said you know his system almost as well as he does at this point. He developed a down-and-dirty program that can monitor the software remotely to detect when and if it goes down. I have Zach working on it, but he’s on the phone with Thursgood himself, who’s sitting with Agent Crutcher’s team. Can you assist in that?”

  “My pleasure,” Sean said.

  Lucy was glad. Sean liked being needed and having something vital to do—especially when he didn’t have to ask.

  “There’s an unmarked white van kitty-corner to us.”

  “I saw the antennas,” Sean said. “Discretion isn’t really in the FBI playbook.”

  Daphne grinned. “No argument here, but we’re not in line of sight to the main doors, so I’m hoping we’re discreet enough.”

  Sean slipped out, and Nate said, “Why aren’t we going into the tunnels and blocking any entrances into the building?”

  “Pick your reason,” Daphne said. “First, we don’t know where they’re going to enter. Second, we don’t have access to the tunnels. The Army Corps of Engineers maintains the underground tunnels. The city doesn’t have full access. I talked to the head honcho in Dallas and he’s pulling together the team that works on it—they know everything about this project—but it’s going to take until morning to get anyone out.”