Charlie and I know that’s a complete fabrication, and we stifle our laughter.
“Of course. You people can’t even take care of your own babies.”
From the challenge in her voice and the downturn of her lips, I can tell how desperately she wants to start a fight, but Nacho is smooth as silk.
“And see, ma’am, I’m gay. Don’t have to worry about no unwanted babies from me. Now, if we can, we’d like to finish this job for you.”
He ignores her disgusted look and doesn’t respond to whatever she’s muttered under her breath.
Charlie chuckles. “He’s enjoying himself.”
“If he decides he doesn’t like someone, he’s rather adept at getting under their skin.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Charlie asks, “What happens if hedoeslike someone?”
My lips twitch. “He’s even worse.”
That might be a little more information than totally necessary, but the fact Charlie is stifling a laugh rather than handing me a pink slip settles some of the angst I’ve had about the possible fallout around our relationship.
The client continues to mutter something we can’t quite pick up on the feed, but I can’t imagine it’s tasteful or kind. Justin and Nacho head toward the impressively tall fence and prepare for the work. A few moments later, the lady tears ass out of her property, scowling.
“She’s clear of the property,” Charlie says. “Anyone else we need to worry about?”
Nacho answers, “Nope. We’re the only ones here now.”
“What about the dogs?”
“They’re in the backyard,” Justin answers.
“Don’t forget, there is a set of cameras around the building,” Nacho warns.
“Erik and I already identified blind spots we can take advantage of,” Charlie explains.
Charlie turns to me. “My plan was to let you stay in the truck while I did reconnaissance, but since she took the bait, it’s a little safer. Would you like to come with me to see what this part looks like?”
“You know I would,” I say, dead serious.
“Gentlemen,” Charlie announces. “Bram and I are going in. We’re looking for evidence and will be in and out before you know it. Just finish the job and leave as quickly as you can.”
“No problem, baby,” Justin says. “I wasn’t lying. This project will go quick.”
Pulling the truck up to the carport—directly in a blind spot—Charlie hands me a balaclava and a pair of black nitrile gloves.
“Damn,” I say, pulling the balaclava over my head. “As Levy would say, shit just got real.”
“What just got real, brother?” Levy asks.
I forgot Levy’s listening in back at the ranch.
“I look like a cat burglar, if that tells you anything,” I say.
Levy whistles across the line. “Jealous.”
Charlie cracks a smile, then goes absolutely serious as he dons his mask.
“I don’t know what kind of recording devices they have, so keep talking to a minimum. We’re looking for documents, ledgers, anything that indicates what their business is and what they have planned next. Most importantly, we can’t leave any trace of our presence here.”
“Do you know whether or not they have a security system?”
