“It’s being dropped at my office.”
“I’ll drive you there. We can talk on the way.” And with that, Luther retreated inside his vehicle. He did not mess around when it came to his safety. He had a beloved wife of forty years, three grown children, and seven grandbabies that were his pride and joy.
Dakota told the shop manager he’d pay double if he could bump his truck to the top of the list.
“Sure,” said the guy, “but it won’t be ready for a coupla days. We gotta let the paint dry for twenty-four.”
“Text me when it’s ready.” Dakota left and jumped into Luther’s car.
As Luther slogged through morning traffic, he asked, “When did the graffiti happen?”
“Saturday night during the realtor event. When I came out, it was there. I didn’t see anyone.”
“You aren’t with ALPHA anymore, but the person who did this thinks you are.”
“Or they just want to out the organization.”
Luther stopped at a light and glanced at Dakota. “This is definitely an attention-grabber. But why now?”
“That’s the question I’ve been asking myself.”
“Did you kill Matt Hastings?”
“Of course not. I take all my termination orders from you.”
“Where were you after the event?”
“At the club.”
“Until when?”
“Until the police banged on the door the next morning.”
“What? Don’t you sleep?”
“No comment.”
“Well, she must be something special to hold your attention for that long.”
Dakota chuckled.
“Who is she?”
“I don’t want to drag her into this.”
“Too late. Who is she?”
“Stryker’s cousin, Providence Reynolds. She’s the club’s temporary GM.”
“What do you know about her?”
“She’s damn hot.”
“Somethingrelevant, Dakota.”
He stared out the passenger window. “She’s a marketing consultant who took the gig to help her cousin.”
“I’d like to get the focus of the investigation off you, but that might be tough. I’ll make some calls. Cameras in the club?”
