Page 29 of Armed ’N’ Ready

“I called Kade again. Myer still hasn’t crossed any borders. His trail is dead. So to speak. His family hasn’t heard from him, and traces on his credit cards are still coming up empty.”

“Then wherever he is, he’s paying for everything in cash.” He served Eric a bowl of pretzels. “Got any good news?”

“Not really.” He grabbed a handful of pretzels. “Some of Andi’s background check is in.”

Nick froze. While he still had to treat her as a suspect, he hadn’t really expected the feds to dig up more dirt on her.

“She paid for the Dog Park Café in cash.” Eric stuffed a few pretzels into his mouth.

“How much?” He already had a bad feeling.

“One point five million,” Eric said as he chewed. “For the restaurant, the house, and nearly ten acres. Based on county permit applications, she probably sank another half million into the renovation.”

Not a good sign. Money launderers usually paid for big-ticket items with untraceable cash.

A flash of pink had him look over to see Andi rise and turn, a smile on her face. When she caught sight of him watching her, her smile disintegrated as she rightly interpreted his dark look to be bad news.

Marty took that moment to bring out their sandwiches. “Here ya go, guys.”

“Thanks.” Nick took the plates and set them on the bar.

“I know you want her to be innocent.” Eric plucked a toothpick out of a wedge of club sandwich. “But maybe she’s not.”

“I don’t want her to be innocent.” He picked up his sandwich. “I don’t want her to be anything. If she’s got a role in Myer’s money laundering scheme—let alone running guns—I’ll arrest her myself.” He grabbed his panini and bit into it. Based on the smell wafting into his nose, he was sure it was kick-ass. The possibility of arresting Andi made it taste like cardboard.

Eric picked up a fry and dipped it in ketchup. “Have you heard from Matt and the guys?”

“Yeah, they’re—”

Nick spotted two burly guys in suits at a table near the front door, giving Kara a hard time. One of them had an arm around the waitress’s waist, while the other was licking his lips in a sleazy, suggestive manner. Kara managed to extricate herself from the man’s grasp, but the douchebag grabbed her arm. Other people in the restaurant were starting to stare.

“Ah, hell.” Nick dropped his sandwich on the plate and rounded the end of the bar. By the time he’d gotten to the table with the two assholes, A-hole #1 was on his feet, still trying to cop a feel.

“Got your back,” Eric said from where he now stood behind Nick.

“Let her go. Now.” He towered over the jerk, who unwisely failed to follow his order. A-hole #2 wisely stayed in his chair.

Kara struggled to escape the guy’s grip on her wrist, but he only tightened his hold, hooking his arm around her waist. From the corner of his eye, Nick caught Andi rushing over.

“Who the fuck are you?” A-hole #1 was about five ten, with beady, dark brown eyes and slicked back hair. Great. A friggin’ mobster wannabe.

Nick leaned in, intentionally getting in the guy’s face. He really wanted the little prick to take a swing at him so he could pound his face into the pavement. He had no tolerance for dumb shits who thought they could press themselves on women. “I’m the fucker who’s about to throw you out on your ass.”

“Nick.” Andi touched his arm. “Don’t.”

“Oh, yeah?” A-hole released Kara and stupidly took a step closer to Nick.

Oh, yeah. Before the guy could react, Nick grabbed his wrist, spinning him, then wrenching his arm behind and high on his back. The guy struggled, but he was no match for him.

“You motherfu—”

Nick shoved the guy’s arm higher, and he yelped. “Language.” Then he propelled the A-hole straight out the front door. He released the guy’s arm, and with more than a little shove, sent him stumbling into the parking lot.

Andi came up behind him, along with Eric, who’d escorted A-hole’s buddy outside.

Nick clenched his fists. It was all he could do not to ram his boot up the guy’s ass or lock him up for assaulting Kara. “Show up here again, and I guarantee you won’t leave looking so pretty.” Not that the little fuck was pretty now.

“Sonofabitch,” the guy muttered, massaging his shoulder as both men headed for a black BMW.