Page 53 of Straight Shooter

He sucked the moisture out of his tongue, wanting to believe her.

“We can’t turn on each other. Let’s put our heads together with the information we have and find Peyton before it’s too late.”

“You held a gun to my head,” he said calmly.

“You still think we’re fucking in on this?” Eric’s high-pitched whine grated on Rhett’s last nerve.

He swung his attention to the idiot with the rag clutched to his gushing nose and the sliver of doubt that had taken shape ten minutes ago split open wider.

Mandy dropped her head to the side and rolled her eyes damn near to the back of her head. “You were about to put a bullet in Eric’s face. What was I supposed to do?”

He glanced from Mandy to Eric and dropped his elbows on the desk. Sonofabitch, he’d been wrong. By making an impulsive accusation he’d set off his team, and their reactions had only fueled his suspicion. Mandy was armed and if she were working for Moretti she could have shot him and wiped her hands clean of this whole situation—not try to mend the trust he’d thought was broken and continue to crack the case. “Shit,” he breathed.

Mandy patted his hand lightly, bringing him out of his self-loathing. “It’s all right, dude. We all make mistakes. You’re forgiven.”

“Speak for yourself,” Eric moaned.

Rhett didn’t spare him a glance but nodded at Mandy. “Thanks.”

“Now, like I said. Listen to what I have to say.” She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a folder. “Moretti’s due for a Senate meeting in Washington next week. According to the itinerary provided by his secretary, he’s staying in the Keys until then.”

Impatience rattled his bones. He bounced his knee up and down and fought the urge to drag his hands over his face. If he didn’t start moving soon, he’d combust. “Can you cut to the chase, please?”

She compressed her lips. “I did some digging and it turns out Moretti owns two properties in the Keys: the house Raquel was killed at and a small beach house they keep as a vacation-rental property. Eric”—she nodded in his direction—“was able to hack into the site that they book their rentals through to view their calendar. This week is open and the rest of the season is booked solid.”

“That’s where they are.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Has to be.”

He shoved himself to his feet and the chair toppled backward. Mandy followed and Eric moseyed behind them.

At the door, he held out his hand. “I’m going to need my Glock.”

Mandy pursed her lips, reached behind her, and slapped it in his palm. “Behave.”

Rhett turned to Eric and clapped him on the shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry about your nose. I was wrong to jump to conclusions.”

Eric pulled the rag away and dabbed at the last drop of fluid lingering at his nostril. He nudged Rhett in the rib. “It’s all right. Women make us crazy, and I saw what pathetic shape she had you in from the moment you boarded the coast guard’s boat. You’ve got my pity.”

Mandy smirked and pulled open the door. Heat crept over Rhett’s cheeks, but he didn’t slow down his determined stride to where the car waited in the parking stall out front of the office. First, he had to get Peyton back. Then he could explore the rush of “pathetic” emotions clogging his vessels.

“You, in the back,” barked Mandy. She got in and gestured for him to sit next to her. The first aid kit she’d taken from the office sat on her lap.

Rhett made a face. “Now’s not the time, Mandy,” he said, as Eric pulled out of the parking spot. “I won’t be able to sit still long enough for you to fix it up, and I don’t want to.”

“That’s the easy part,” she said, opening the box. “You have no choice but to sit still in a moving vehicle. What are you going to do when we apprehend these guys and you pass out from blood loss?”

“I’m not carrying your ass either,” Eric chimed from the front seat.

Mandy chuckled. “He’ll be fine. Now hold still.”

Rhett huffed but let her clean and bandage the bullet wound on his chest. He set his teeth against the pain and his skin went numb when it should have burned. The agony of the bullet’s entry paled in comparison to his pulsating terror. Until he had Peyton back safely, nothing else mattered. Mandy’s voice droned on as she ripped off a strip of medical tape and secured it to his skin. He tuned out the sound and focused on the road through the windshield in front of Eric.

“How much farther?”

Eric lifted his gaze to the rearview mirror and nodded at the GPS on the dash. “Three miles ahead. Hold on, boss. We’ll get her.”

“Probably should’ve called for backup.”