Read The Flinck Connection (Book 4) (Genevieve Lenard) for Free Online

me.”
    “It was only once, punk. That dude had more jewellery on his body than my auntie Helen at Christmas dinner.”
    “I think the criminal is right, Nikki.” As usual, Manny’s expression conveyed affection when he looked at Nikki. “We don’t know what any of this means, so I would rather err on the side of caution.”
    “Seriously?” She threw her napkin on the table. “Can I still go to my classes?”
    “Can’t you afford to take a week off?” Francine asked from behind her computer. She got up and brought her tablet to the table. “It’s only a week, girl. Give us the chance to figure this out and keep you safe at the same time.”
    “How do you even know that my life is in danger?” Nikki folded her arms, her eyebrows raised.
    “These direct messages were sent to you, Nikki.” I said. “To an account that doesn’t have your name associated with it. Take a moment to think clearly about this. Don’t let your underdeveloped cerebral cortex influence your logic.”
    I didn’t understand why there were chuckles around the table. It was common knowledge that the thinking part of the human brain only developed fully by the age of twenty-six. Most decisions made before then were not carefully considered, and actions taken were most often impulsive and regretted later on.
    “Yeah, yeah, I know. Observe, assess, analyse and act. You’ve told me that a million times.”
    “Impossible. I don’t recall the exact number of times I have…” I sighed when the zygomaticus muscles around Nikki’s mouth relaxed into a smile. “You were being hyperbolic. Again. Well then, if you do as I advise, you will see the wisdom in taking a few days off while we observe, assess, analyse and act.”
    She picked up her napkin and forcefully placed it on her lap. “Fine. But I’m doing this with great discontent, unhappiness and rebellion in my heart.”
    “So noted.” I ignored her redundant use of language. Even though she was annoyed, her micro-expressions exhibited none of the exaggerated emotions she had laid claim to.
    Our discussion was interrupted when Tim came into the team room, carrying a tray with a large thermos and coffee mugs. Timothée Renaud had started working as Phillip’s assistant six weeks ago. It had taken Phillip two months to recover when his previous assistant had betrayed his trust by giving away confidential client data to a man we had been investigating. Another month had been spent finding the right person for the position. I had given my vote of confidence when the twenty-nine-year-old man had stood up to Manny during one of the many interviews.
    His nonverbal cues had been consistent throughout all six interviews, conducted separately with Phillip, Manny, Colin and even Vinnie. It was the latter’s size that had had the most intimidating effect on Tim. The others’ verbal manipulations had not affected him as strongly. I had watched the footage of the interviews seven times each. None of us wanted to repeat the loathsome experience of a close associate’s disloyalty. Thus far, Tim had lived up to the expectations placed on him.
    “Well, aren’t you just having the little party here?” Tim rolled his eyes at the plates on the table and shook his head at Vinnie. “You got these pastries at that other shop? I’ve told you before, just walk twenty metres on and you’ll find better quality goodies. Mind you, they might have a dress code.”
    “And what? I have to wear those skinny pants, that girly tailored shirt, and those shiny shoes to buy doughnuts?” Vinnie pushed a whole doughnut in his mouth and talked around it. “No, thank you.”
    “At least I don’t cause old ladies to scamper away from me.” Tim’s effeminate pronunciation and mannerisms had convinced the others he was homosexual, but I had my doubts. His sexual orientation was of no concern to me and I’d rather pay attention to how he stood up to Vinnie.
    “That was only once.” Vinnie slammed one hand on