Foxe shrugged. “Mama suffered from paranoia, though. It got worse near the end.”
Lance let a frown curve his lips as he remembered the day, in their fifth year, when Foxe had received the news of his mother’s passing. It was never anyone else’s place to judge how a man grieved, and Lance knew better than most how complicated a relationship with one’s parents could be, but he’d still worried a bit at Foxe’s stubborn refusal to go home for services. It’d been a while before he’d learned the reason.
Foxe blew out a breath and straightened. “Enough about the past. We got enough shit to deal with in the present.”
Fair enough.Mama Foxe was a delicate subject. “Damn straight,” Lance said aloud. “Where’re Herb and Billy?”
“Ruining someone’s day, somewhere,” Foxe said with a laugh and a shrug.
Lance chuckled and tossed the crumpled bag at his buddy. “Then I guess it’s your job to give me the report, Foxy. You know I like my details.” And he would prefer them soon, because he was itching to break away and make that call. Not that he had a damn clue what he’d say once he got her on the phone. Would she refuse if he asked her outright on a date? Would his chances be higher if he made up some bullshit to justify meeting?
It was hard not to lose himself down that rabbit hole in the moments before Foxe composed himself for a proper reiteration of events.
The uptick in missing women in the surrounding counties was largely suspected to be due to the surprising presence of the Veracruz Cartel, a powerful but still fairly new cartel that had overtaken their own region of Mexico before—apparently—climbing North. Sex trafficking was only one of the many hellish trades they dealt in, but it lined up with the problem in question. Jenna’s nineteen-year-old female employee had gone missing shortly after Lance had landed in the hospital, and it was confirmed the cartel had taken her when Jenna herself was abducted and taken to the same location. A small, debatably lucky break—at least one girl was saved.
The Leeland County Sheriff’s Department, the law of the land for Jon’s hometown of Misty Glades, seemed to be in deep with the Veracruz. Which almost explained Morty’s blabbering nonsense about not wanting Lance to ‘fuck up what he had going on’. On the bright side, there seemed to be one deputy who’d shown signs of being clean. A man named Raph Dennison, whom Jon had called in to clean up the scene and arrest the survivors after rescuing Jenna. So, the problem of the department was slowly abating, between the takedown of its crooked authority figures and the pending legal hammer.
But the issue of the cartel remained. That meant PJ, whatever the fuck birds he might throw at them, and whoever else he hadleft to run amok with. It was possible they’d pull up stakes and move on, even. That would be a problem.
Jon had called in three of their former Marine buddies to help root out the threat. Plus, they had Army Alex, who’d volunteered and apparently stepped up. That made six with Lance out of the hospital. Six against however many cartel assholes might have slipped across the border and made their way up from California.
Lance let his head tip back for a moment after Foxe was done, his mind processing. He understood Jon wanted to put down roots locally in the long run. That was why Jon had approached him about the search and rescue business. And with Lynn being local, Lance saw no reason not to go all-in on that. So, they needed to make a good, solid impression.
He straightened and cracked his neck, a grin splitting his face. “Sounds like we’re about to have some fun.”
Laundry was done. Her refrigerator and cupboards were fuller than they’d been for the entire length of time she’d been renting the apartment. Her floors were mopped, dried, and sparkling. Her picture frames had been dusted. Even her damn toilet was clean.
All of that, and Lynnette was bored. The type of bored that only fed into her frustration.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been unemployed. Probably when she’d still been in college. She had changed employers a few times, sure, but always by choice or with notice. Time to prepare. And for as glad as she was to be away from Gavin Bishop and the bizarre hatred of Claire, Lynnettewas furious over losing her job. Everything about why she’d been fired was unfounded. No one could prove their allegations, because the allegations were false. But she also couldn’tdisprovethem, because the technical opportunities were there. It was the nature of the job.
What I need is a lawyer.It was ironic that she’d only just the other day cashed in her favor with Lilia. But no way in hell was she going to ask Lilia to drop that case, not with how big it had blown.
She needed a lawyer and a new source of employment, swiftly. Her meager savings wouldn’t last for long. And the whole situation would get worse if she was forced to call her dad and explain to him what had happened. Rather, if she had to tell him before she could wrap the story up with a happy ending.
Lynnette sighed and slumped into her sofa. Her open laptop mocked her in its silence from its resting place on the coffee table. The idea of the research that awaited her felt more daunting than it should, and something like exhaustion weighed her down. She’d told herself to give the hospital’s CMO twenty-four hours to respond to her message. Twenty-four hours had passed and she’d heard nothing. That probably said everything. Hadn’t she already known their aim was to protect the reputation of their precious surgeon?
She drummed her fingers restlessly on her thigh. She needed that video. That meant she needed to get in touch with Lance, somehow.Jenna probably has a way.Through Jon, if nothing else. But Lynnette hadn’t had it in her yet to tell her best friend about her firing, and she didn’t know how she’d avoid that conversation if she found herself face-to-face with Jenna.
She also didn’t know why she was hiding from it.
Just call your friend. Don’t be a coward.
She hadn’t deserved the firing. The accusations against her were false. There was literally no evidence to support the claims.Moreover, if she quietly accepted the punishment without pushback, after all the fighting she’d previously done, that would make her look guiltier than anything else.
Finally bolstered into action, Lynnette straightened and reached for the phone that also rested on the coffee table. Her fingers were nearly touching the device when it lit up with an incoming call from an unfamiliar, out of area number.
She jerked back on some weird reflex and stared at her phone as it rang. Seconds passed while she argued with herself, gave herself a hard shake, and finally snatched the device off the table. She brought it to her ear with a quick swipe of her thumb. “Hello?”
“Lynn! I didn’t hear your voice at all yesterday, it was horrible. Did you miss me?”
Lynnette paused, staring straight ahead into the familiarity of her rented home but seeing none of it. She knew the voice at her ear, but her brain needed a moment to place it. It felt wrong hearing that warm masculine tone in this context. Her brow pinched. “Lance?”
He chuckled. “Surprised?”
Of course I’m surprised!“How did you get my number?”
She swore she saw him shrug as he replied, “Jon, I think. Maybe Jenna. Honestly, everything was kind of one endless blur once the police arrived to deal with Morty, so I’m not sure which conversation it was where I nagged it out of them. There’s no harm now, though, right?”
