“My grandmother lives in the home where you did your first job and scammed Elwood.”
The kid shrank under visible shame. “I’m not a good person.”
“Neither am I sometimes.”
“What are we going to do? About Lukyan?”
I wrapped an arm around him and tugged him against my side. “First, you’re going to tell me exactly how you got tangled up in this mess.”
“I already have.”
“It’s in the details, Darcy. Start at the beginning. Your landlord knows Lukyan.Hebrought you into the fold. There is a web of players in the background. We need to untangle that web because someone will lead us to Lukyan. Someone knows where that fucker went. Someone helped him escape.”
***
“Like I said to Darcy. It’s all in the details. You lift up enough rocks, eventually you’ll find the worm you’ve been looking for. Here’s your fucking worm.” I flicked the computer screen and sat back, smugly crossing my arms.
Tallus’s lips parted as he watched the grainy video play out. It showed Darcy’s first visit to Evergreen, bundled in his jacket, hood drawn, hands in his pockets. His nerves showed despite his determined approach and confident strut.
The man behind the receptionist desk greeted Darcy with familiarity and a friendly touch to the hand after he’d signed in. A man who didn’t work the reception desk at all, but so happened to be covering for Sandra’s break at the exact time Darcy was told to arrive.
Tallus paused the video. “Are you sure?”
Darcy nodded. “Evergreen was my test run, and Luke said I had to be observed by one of his people before he set me free. He said a close friend of his would be at the desk to ensure no one suspected I was anyone but who I claimed to be. If Elwood was skeptical, his friend would help steer the narrative. He never told me the guy’s name. Apart from that,” he tipped his head at the screen, “we didn’t interact again. I was told not to talk to him. I saw him on subsequent visits, but he kept his distance and watched me.”
“Aaron Daily.” Tallus threaded his fingers through his hair with a long exhale. For a long time, he stared unseeing at the paused footage, his gaze flitting back and forth, as though slotting the information in place like I’d done earlier. “That skanky motherfucker.”
I grunted in agreement.
“What do we do?” Darcy asked.
A mischievous smirk spread across Tallus’s face. He stood taller and propped his hands on his hips. “If you boys will excuse me, I think I’ll shower and make myself extra appealing for my meeting with flirty Aaron this morning.”
I would have told him not to jump the gun, but my boyfriend sashayed to the bathroom, his swagger cranked to a level ten, and I swallowed my tongue. It was impossible not to stare at his perky ass.
The minute the bathroom door slammed, Darcy snorted. “He’s so gay. How do you not see it?”
“Oh, I see it. And he’s so fucking mine.”
“Gross.”
I considered Tallus’s unspoken plan. I knew my boyfriend and had a good idea where this was going. We would need to work out the flaws, but I trusted he could handle it.
Tallus might not have been athletic. He might not have been Cirque du Soleil qualified. But when it came to acting, manipulating, or schmoozing suspects, he won all the awards. Aaron wouldn’t know what hit him.
A short time later, Tallus appeared from the bedroom wearing a cock-hardening outfit that hugged him in all the right places. It was one of the mind-numbingly expensive purchases he’d made while on a shopping trip with Memphis. I’d bitched about it for a month, but that was before I saw it on him.
He’d paired it with platform ankle boots that I was sure were Gucci or some brand meant for models and not PI record clerks. I was learning to recognize the labels. They should have looked ridiculous with the outfit, but on Tallus, they looked fan-fucking-tastic. The chunky heel gave him an extra inch of height and brought his ass to a god-tier level.
The sultry scent of his cologne made my mouth water. The faint touch of mascara threatened to buckle my knees. He’d styled his auburn hair in a purposefully messy sweep that did things to my insides I hadn’t experienced since I was sixteen. But the icing on the cake was the come-fuck-me frames paired with the sultry look in his hazel eyes.
He struck a pose. “How do I look?”
“So gay,” Darcy said.
I smacked the kid across the back of his head. Not hard, but enough to get his attention. It was reflexive, and when he scowled at the assault, I shot him a dirty look. “Don’t be a fucking brat.”
He mumbled an apology.
