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“Enchiladas?” Jonesy asked. Food usually redirected his attention, and his smile returned.
“Andrew made you guys dinner. We’re heading home. I’m sure you both have a lot to talk about, so enjoy the meal,” Bryce said, walking behind the sofa and patting me on the shoulder. “We’ll check in with you in the next day or so.”
“Thanks for getting me here, Bryce, and thank you, Andrew, for dinner,” I called over my shoulder.
Andrew walked up behind me and kissed the top of my head. “You’re welcome. I just took it out of the oven, so let it sit and cool for another fifteen minutes or so,” he said, pushing Bryce toward the door. “We’ll talk to you guys later.”
“We have great friends,” I said as they left. Jonesy leaned over and kissed me.
“We do, and I missed you today,” he said softly. “Let me go get cleaned up, and I’ll join you. I have lots to tell you.” He waggled his eyebrows with a pinched grin before heading down the hall.
I picked up my laptop and fumbled it open, hoping it would turn on without issue, which it did, much to my relief. Nothing seemed glitchy, and now I had a new cellphone thanks to Chloe, and I could sign in to my cloud and reinstall my contacts. Typing with a cast on my arm was a little troublesome, and I had to settle for pecking with my left hand while typing with my right.
“You’re not working, are you?” Jonesy asked as he walked into the living room, wearing only a towel around his waist. I flinched at his voice, not hearing him approach. My eyes roamed over his torso, the one I loved to run my hands and tongue over. A trickle of water slid down his left pec, splitting his tattooed badge number. I felt my dick twitch at the sight of him sauntering to stand behind the sofa.
“No, I’m not working. I wanted to make sure my laptop was okay. Now I can format my new cellphone. I feel naked without my phone with me. That landline thing felt archaic when I talked to Bryce from my room at the hospital.”
“Let me get dressed, and we can eat first,” he replied. “I’m famished, and those enchiladas smell amazing.”
The scent of his shower gel got my attention more than the enchiladas. I hummed my approval as he walked back down the hall. My attention went back to my laptop, and it took every ounce of willpower not to open my email. I figured if there was anything important, Chloe would contact me about it.
After a few minutes, the distinct sound of plates being taken from a cupboard filtered into the living room. Jonesy brought out two plates with Andrew’s creation. After we’d had our fill, he took the plates back to the kitchen. When he was done cleaning up, he came back with a beer for himself and iced tea for me.
“I can’t have a beer?” I asked, giving him my best pout.
“I think it’s best to stay alcohol-free right now, Howler,” he replied, taking a swig. I stared at him with puppy-dog eyes, hoping he’d give in. Once he saw my face, he snorted mid-sip.
“You can have a taste. No more than that.” He sat next to my hip, offering the hoppy brew.
I took a generous draw and savored the foamy IPA. I wasn’t normally a beer drinker, but after the enchiladas, it sounded good. I closed my eyes, smiled, and held the bottle out for him to take. He snickered at my dramatic approval.
“Happy now?” he asked.
“Better. Thank you,” I said with a satisfied sigh.
“Okay,” he replied, setting his beer on the coffee table. “You wanna hear what the hell went down today at the hotel?”
“Fuck, yeah!”
“Remember that pageant coach we saw backstage wearing stilettos in Lake Tahoe?” I nodded. “His name is Sami, and he travels the world coaching beauty queens. Anyway, I walked away from my makeup station to take Bryce’s call from the hospital. As I was tucked behind the backdrop curtain by the stage, two men started talking a few feet from me. Their conversation was about the missing women and Gretchen’s death, and they were trying to find women for a supposed sheik.”
“What the ever-loving fuck?” I said.
“It gets better. Again, I have no idea who the other man was, but he seemed to have the pulse of the entire operation. They already have Jasmine, the other missing contestant, in a secure location here in San Francisco, and they’re planning to find two more women for this client of theirs—some sheik, apparently.”
“Sounds like human trafficking to me,” I replied, the enchiladas not sitting well in my stomach.
“Get this; one of the two was Sami, who was instructed to keep tabs on at least one of the other contestants. The other asshole Sami was talking with dropped a few names. Boris was one, and according to what was said, he’s the one who killed Gretchen. Of course, Chet’s name was mentioned, as was someone named Luca. He was the fucker that ran you off the road.”
“Well, at least I know who to punch when we snag these fuckers.”
“Other than Jasmine, we don’t know how many women we’re dealing with or how long this has been going on. I’m gonna take all these fuckers down if it’s the last thing I do.”
“What’s your plan now you have names to tie to the case?” I asked.
“Sean heard some of it through my earpiece and thinks he captured enough of their conversation to use as partial evidence. He planned to go back to the station tonight and have forensics do their audio magic to clean it up. We’ll meet again in the morning with the event security team and give them the lowdown. There will be more eyes on the women now, after what I heard today. We need to find out where these women are being held and who the mastermind is.”
That one voice I’d heard in that room at Bally’s, so familiar, was driving me crazy. “God, I wish I could place where I’ve heard that voice before. I bet he’s the ringleader. I bet it’s the same one who was talking with this Sami character,” I said with a furrowed brow. “Oh…can you bring me that paper bag from the hospital sitting by the kitchen?”
