For a few silent minutes, they both scoured their respective devices. It didn’t take long to find Krandall, Joshua. She found a home address, no phone number. Of course, it was midday Monday, so he would likely be at the office. How could she reach him under Clifford’s nose?
“Got one,” Nick burst into the silence. “I found a motel right off Highway 61, not too far from the DA’s office. It’s a dive, not affiliated with a chain. Their website says they’ll take cash.”
Sasha conveyed her findings about Josh. “We might have to call his office and arrange something this evening.”
“Too risky. It’s damn likely all calls in and out of the DA’s office are recorded.”
Nick was right. “Then we may have to wait until he gets off work and drop by his house.”
At first, Nick scowled at the delay, but Sasha watched his thoughts working as he seemingly considered all their choices and possible outcomes. “All right. That gives us time to grab some more ammo and prep a game plan for approaching this guy. And a nap. I barely slept a fucking wink last night.”
Sasha hated to hear that. “Insomnia?”
Nick slanted a glance at her that silently asked if she was serious. “I can’t sleep next to you when I’d rather be inside you.”
She felt heat crawl up her cheeks…and pool between her legs.
Of course he hadn’t rested. She’d had an amazing orgasm. And he hadn’t. No, that wasn’t quite true. He had given her a mammoth, earthshaking, jaw-dropping, scream-worthy, life-changing cataclysm of pleasure. Then she’d allowed him to goad her into anger, and all thought of throwing herself at him again had fled.
Sasha felt more than vaguely guilty. She wished she’d given him pleasure in return instead.
“Then I’ll give you some space so you can rest. If you don’t mind, I’d like to drive by Josh’s place first, make sure he really still lives there. He’d actually just purchased a house shortly before Mike’s death, so chances are good but…”
“Let’s go.” Nick took the computer back from her hands as she navigated the traffic to Mid-City.
Thankfully, she didn’t need the GPS on his phone to remember Josh’s location. She and Mike had come here, hand in hand, to mingle with friends and celebrate new beginnings. Had that been a mere two years ago?
Sasha stopped in front of the starter home. It was long on charm, with brick steps, craftsman pillars, a wide porch, and what appeared to be original stained glass in the transom above the front door. However, the cottage was short on space, looking dwarfed by much bigger neighbors on either side. But it had been freshly painted, was well maintained, and had original hardwoods inside, as she recalled.
Nick sidled out of the SUV and opened the mailbox at the curb. “Empty.”
He headed to the side yard. Tucked against the fence, adjacent to the patchy concrete driveway, sat a huge plastic trash can and a recycle bin. He pretended to trip over the bin, nudging the lid off the squatty receptacle and spilling out most of the contents.
“What are you doing?” Sasha frowned.
“Double-checking.” He glanced around to ensure none of the neighbors were being nosy. But in this neighborhood, people worked. It seemed unlikely that anyone would be watering the flowers on their porch or taking their dog for a walk right now.
Sasha believed in respecting others’ privacy. She totally valued hers. But locating Josh quickly and quietly could well be life or death. “Find anything?”
After he bent to tuck away the newspapers and the empty, rinsed milk carton, he did an amazing imitation of someone picking up flyers, ads, and discarded envelopes without actually reading a word.
“Bingo. He still lives here. He tossed the water bill, presumably after he paid it, into the recycle bin.” Nick shook his head as if Josh had made a critical mistake.
Despite the tense situation, Sasha had to laugh. “He didn’t shred, so off with his head.”
The smile that spread across Nick’s full lips took her breath away. White teeth flashed against his olive complexion. His dark eyes sparked with something both funny and alive. He almost looked…happy. It was a breath-stealing sight.
“Okay, maybe not that severe but I believe in being careful. Identity theft is serious business. Why make those fuckers’ crimes easier?”
“You’re right.” She helped him put the last of the paper back into the bin. “So we’ll come back later?”
Before they could answer that question, a pretty redhead stepped out the front door, with a little white furball on a leash. She glanced warily at Nick. “Can I help you?”
Sasha stepped forward. “Are you Josh’s”—she looked at the woman’s bare left hand—“girlfriend?”
She shook her head, the ginger strands of her quirky bob swaying. “No. His dog walker. I’m Hannah. This is Monster.”
When the six-pound pup barked in a tone Sasha was sure he meant to be menacing, she tried not to smile.
