“Mom, say that again, please. I’m with Thomas,” Bailey gritted out. I could tell his anger was slowly boiling, but it was going to shoot off like a volcano at any moment.
“No, son. I haven’t received any money back. Why? Are you boys trying to rile me up like you did when you were younger? I swear, I’m not putting up with it anymore. You boys know I won’t tolerate tomfoolery. For goodness sakes, you’re thirty-nine.” Mrs. Gregory sounded exasperated, but she wasn’t lying, as best I could tell.
Bailey pointed at Thomas. “Call or track Lindsey’s cell. Find out where she is.” Thomas gave him a quick nod before leaving the room with Boyd in tow.
“Bailey Joseph, you tell me what’s going on right now.” Mrs. Gregory projected a don’t-fuck-with-me tone that many mothers seemed to master. I couldn’t imagine going against her, face-to-face.
He sighed. “Mom, it’s a long story. Let me know if you hear from Lindsey, will you? Maybe plan a trip to Las Vegas in the near future?”
“I’ve got end-of-the-quarter board meetings this week, but I’ll plan something soon. Look out for your brother, please. Don’t let anything happen to him.” Mrs. Gregory ended the call.
Bailey turned to me. “Now what?”
“You stay here with Thomas. I’ve got a few things to do, but I’ll be back.”
I started for the door, but Bailey grabbed my wrist. “Where are you going? I’m coming along.”
“I’m going to find Marcelo Garcia and figure out the connection between him and Lindsey. We need to get to him before the cops find him, or we won’t get a chance to question him. I have a feeling he’s going to tie all of this together, but if Spitzer gets to him first, we won’t get our shot. With all the shit Spitzer wants to use to get Garcia to testify and take down the cartel and the Viper Kings, he might give the asshole immunity. We’ll never get any answers if he does.” Maybe I was wrong, but that was what I’d do if it were my case.
“I’m coming with you. I’m willing to do things you’re too moral to do in order to get some answers.” Bailey stood from the chair as Thomas came out of the bedroom.
“Lindsey’s not answering. We had tracking devices in our phones for the sake of security, but Rupert tells me her phone is offline, which means she’s taken the tracker out or she’s thrown her phone away.” That was telling, wasn’t it?
Bailey and I left the governor’s Vegas residence after Thomas gave Bailey a ball cap and sunglasses. We were able to escapethrough the Sunset gate without notice, and then we both hustled to my truck.
I noticed his bike in the back and knew we needed to get rid of it before we went looking for Garcia. “Let’s take your bike to the office and drop it off. Besides, we could use some backup.”
I planned to recruit Keats and Gree to give us a hand. They both got bored easily while in the office, and I was banking on them looking for anything to do.
Keats was a master tracker from his days in the Marines, and Greeley was the muscle we’d need if we were lucky enough to find Garcia. We could split up and attack the problem from two different angles if they were willing to help.
I went into the office and whistled at Keats and Gree. “Can you guys help me take a bike off the back of my truck?” Both guys were in the swamp playingtrashketball. Leo and Diggs were nowhere to be seen.
Both men stopped their free-throw battle and turned to me. “A bike? You can’t lift a bike off the back of your truck?” Greeley was laughing as the two of them headed out the back door with me, Dixie trotting along behind them.
Denise was at her desk doing something, and I didn’t want her to hear my request. Nobody needed to get into trouble for lying to the cops if they were asked point-blank about my intentions with Marcelo Garcia. I’d take all the blame myself.
When Greeley saw the bike, he cracked up. “Now I get it. How’d you get it up there?”
Bailey laughed while sitting on the tailgate. “I gave three thugs twenty bucks a piece to help us lift it.” I was convinced the onlyreason those other guys hadn’t taken off with the Harley was that they thought we were cops. Thankfully, they hadn’t given us any trouble.
The three of them shook hands and went to work putting the fancy motorcycle on the ground. “You guys bored?” They were both eyeing the Harley like hungry hyenas as I waited for them to answer. No way would Bailey let either of them ride the damn thing, so it was better to get their mind on something else.
Finally, Gree looked at me. “What’s up?”
“We’re going to Horseshoe Casino to talk to Maria Ramirez’s boss. If you’re in, Gree, could you two go find your buddy, Detective Spitzer? If we can get him on board with my plan, maybe he’ll give us time to question Marcelo Garcia before he’s taken into custody—if Spitzer is even looking for him.
“I know Spitzer’s priority is finding the connections between the Víbora Cartel and the Viper Kings MC. I won’t interfere with his case, but I want to talk to Garcia about another matter. I think Garcia knows more about a blackmail attempt against a friend of mine than he’s willing to admit.”
Gree turned to Keats. “You wanna take a ride? I happen to know Spitz is taking a mandatory vacation day because he mouthed off to his boss. Right now, he’s at Atomic Golf hitting balls. I’m supposed to meet him in an hour for a beer.”
I wanted to pump my fist in the air. I knew Keats and Gree were reliable, and I hoped Greeley had some sway with Spitzer.
“Sure. I got nothing going on.” The smile on Keats’s face led me to believe he was more than happy to go along, though I wasn’t sure if it was the idea of some downtime or if he was anxious for a fight.
“Check in later, will ya?” I gave Gree a fist bump before Bailey and I headed for my truck.
Traffic to The Strip was a nightmare, but we arrived at the Horseshoe Hotel and Casino within thirty minutes. The shiftchange for the cocktail servers, dealers, and croupiers had taken place at four, so I was sure Alaina would be on the floor somewhere for the evening.
