“Hell yeah, get the chef here. I need a Tomahawk and a loaded baked potato right about now.”
She looked at me hard for a second. “You sure you’re okay?”
I looked down at her and smiled a little. “Baby, they ain’t got shit.”
“I know that I’m just asking.”
“And if they did, I still wouldn’t be worried.”
“I know that too.”
She sat back down on the couch after that and pulled one of the files into her lap. I dropped down beside her, stretched one arm across the back of the couch behind her, and looked down at the paperwork she had spread everywhere. I went ahead and text the chef myself.
“What’s all this?” I asked.
“Everything I need to tighten up before they decide to start fishing. Justttt in case.” She dragged out the word as her fingers typed faster than my eyes could keep up. She flipped a page over and pointed at something highlighted in yellow folder next. “These routes need to be moved.”
“Why?”
“Because if they start sniffing around, I don’t want them seeing the same names, the same drivers, the same warehouses, the same shell companies over and over.”
I agreed. “Yeah, change them.”
“I already started.” She winked.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah,” she said, looking down at another page. “I want two of the trucking companies dissolved by next week and I want new LLCs built under different names.”
“Damn, that fast?”
“Yes.”
I looked at her for a second. She really was beautiful when she got like this. Focused. Sharp. Too smart for her own good sometimes. “You know you sexy when you talking business?” I asked.
She looked up at me over the top of the file. “You’re so annoying.”
“I’m serious.”
“Good.”
The ring alerted us that someone was at the front door a few minutes later before one of the shadows stepped into the living room. “Marcus and Barron here.”
I nodded my head letting them know it was cool. “Send them in.”
Carmen closed the file in her lap and sat it down on the table right as Marcus came walking in first now looking like he wastired of everybody. Barron came in right behind him looking exactly like himself cause he was the type of man who looked like he belonged in courtrooms and backrooms at the same time.
Marcus dropped down into one of the chairs across from us and loosened his tie even more. “Well,” he started. “That was annoying.”
Barron stayed standing for a second with both hands in his pockets while he looked around the room. “They got anything?”
“No,” Marcus answered before I could. “They have theories. They have timeline bullshit. They have motive, but they don’t have anything solid.” He explained. Barron nodded like that was exactly what he expected.
“And they won’t,” I said.
“No,” Marcus agreed. “They won’t, but they are going to keep digging.”
Carmen reached for her water glass off the table. “We know.”
