“For Hands or Wheels? They’re your friends, you ask them.” She digs her phone out of her purse, clicks on the flashlight, and lights up the alley.
Snickering at the thought, I take her hand, walk us past the dumpster, and follow a small strip of tar to the street.
“We’re over there.” I point out our vehicle and she shakes her head with brows furrowed.
“I was about to call an Uber. I think you fucked my brains out.”
“You’re welcome.” I glance around and sure we’re not being followed, drive to our safe house. It has one of the few driveways in the neighborhood which I appreciate because alternate side of the street parking is in effect and the locals took all the spots hours ago.
“Tough guy, if there ever is a problem, in all seriousness, you could tell me. Sex is all about intimacy. Huge cock, or no, I will always love you.” The sincerity in her face causes my chest to swell.
My snarky Brooklyn babe has a sweet candy center which I intend to bite into the rest of my life. I’m still pondering my good fortune when I turn the key to stop the engine.
As we sit there, my darlin’s phone pings, she checks her messages, and taps my arm. “It’s Landy. She wants me to call her back.”
“Let’s get you inside, first.” My gun out, I check up and down the street, and wait for a woman pushing a stroller to pass before hopping over the front bumper and opening her door.
She springs out, back kicks the metal closed, and sprints with me to the stoop. A thumbprint to the panel and the iron grate pops open. Inside, we walk up the staircase built in the eighteen-hundreds and in the upstairs hallway, I tap on the entrance.
“Bobby, it’s Suds and Sam.”
A few moments later, the metal vibrates, and I push to enter the living room. Mikey sleeps on the couch next to our nanny who’s typing on her laptop.
Upon seeing my gal’s swollen lips, she grins. “Looks like someone got some.”
“Enough.” My wife blushes deep red and plunks down at the kitchen table. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a call.”
Cell phone shouldered at her ear, she grabs a water from the fridge. “You sure? Yes, please… okay. I will. Bye.”
Frowning, she hangs up, then motions me closer. “Our undercover agent says our pal Dash has a net worth of over ten million dollars.”
I whistle through my teeth. “Huh. Has she found any ties between the drugs and data?”
“Not yet.” The glow I had put on her cheeks fades as she purses her lips. “We’re missing something.”
“I agree. Get some sleep. You too, nanny-guard. I’ll take the night shift.” At the sludge in the bottom of the coffee pot, I opt for instant and place a cup of water in the microwave.
Sam stands behind me and slips her arms around my waist. “We haven’t seen any sign of gangbangers, maybe our plan worked.”
Turning, I kiss the top of her head. “Best we play it safe until we know for sure.”
“You’re right. I’m tired and miss home.” After the two women settle down, I call Slate and update him on everything that’s happened, including our client’s net worth. “What do you suppose he’s up to?”
The Patten boss fact checks, and I don’t blame him. Nothing makes sense. “He encouraged you to work with the DEA?”
“Happy as a pig in shit.” One eye on the outside camera feed, I make myself a ham sandwich.
“Huh. Not too many criminals would want them involved. Did you ask Jason?”
“Yeah, clean. Too clean. His identity must’ve cost a fortune.”
“And you say Landy found what artificial intelligence missed. Impressive.”
“Yup. We lucked out.” Grabbing my laptop, I move to the couch, and get horizontal.
“Open your email, I just sent you the new time and place of the next Sissy doll arrival.”
Chapter Fourteen
