“We’ve got nothing else on Jerry that ties him to any other harbor, marina, or boathouse. Whatever is going on with moving drugs through the area, it has to be there,” Tate huffed.
Clay looked over toward Mace. “Boss, we didn’t add surveillance to the inside because the FBI said they were monitoring the boating activity.”
“The FBI have it on their radar. I’ve gotten no indication from them that they’ve seen any unusual activity,” Levi threw out.
Mace nodded. “Maybe we should even add a wider scope of visuals in case Jerry is using someone else from the household to facilitate the transfer of drugs.”
So deep in thought, Clay didn’t notice Walker had asked a question until his name was called the second time. Jerking his head around, he said, “Sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked what the fuck you were thinking about so hard. Why do I get a feeling it’s not just the case?”
His hand rubbed over his head, squeezing the back of his neck corded with tension as a headache had built. “It’s Christina. Or rather, the fact that I’m investigating her friends in the band and their finances.”
“Oh, man, the relationship guilt is setting in,” Walker said.
“Huh?”
Tate replied, “You’re the first one of us that had a relationship that wasn’t part of an investigation, something I know you value. And who the hell knew it was going to happen, but you’re now entangled with the woman you care about while subsequently investigating things that are going on in her life.”
“Yeah, and she knows nothing about it.”
“That’s the way it’s gotta be,” Walker said. “Look, it’s not much different than if you were still on active duty. There are married special ops, and their spouses understand they can’t know everything about a mission.”
Rank added, “Just think about it like a police detective. Same kind of thing. They can’t talk about what they do with their spouses.”
“So, how do you deal when the investigation involves the person you’re with and you can’t tell them?"
Barking out a rueful laugh, Rank added, “You’re missing the other question. How do you deal when they do find out what you are doing?”
“Shit,” he cursed on exhalation. “I can’t believe the man we’re investigating is somehow tied up into the band she plays with. I gotta watch out for her without telling her what’s going on. And then, when all the shit blows up, she’s gonna know.”
“All relationships have their challenges,” Tate said. “Keepers just seem to have special challenges.”
“I didn’t want relationship challenges. I wanted easy. I wanted simple. I wanted to meet someone, develop a relationship, have feelings for each other, and move forward. I wanted everyone to be happy and get along.”
“Hate to tell you, man, but just like Tate said, all relationships have challenges,” Walker said. “Thinking a relationship was going to be completely drama-free was pretty naïve. And Clay, you don’t strike me as naïve.”
Sighing, he nodded, thinking about his parents. They certainly never cared what each of them thought about the other. Maybe that’s why they couldn’t get along. Christina and I are different. We started by really caring about each other. As much as he hated what her reaction would be when she found out she was part of his investigation, he hated the thought of her not being in his life even more.
17
The plane dipped and so did Christina’s stomach. She hated cheap, crowded flights. It wasn’t that she was a travel snob but flying always made her nauseous. And traveling with the band didn’t make it better. She’d managed to acquire a seat away from the others, knowing she was going to be with them for the next twenty-four hours, she wanted as much space between her and them now as she possibly could have.
Landing in Ottawa, they moved through customs and she slipped into a different line so that she wouldn’t have to hear Dunk’s attempts at being a witty smartass and Steven trying to make sure they all got into the country with their instruments without being arrested. Sometimes, she wondered if being with the band was the right thing to do. She loved the music. Loved the act. But couldn’t imagine doing this more than a couple of times a year. And traveling all over the country or world? Hell no!
Meeting with the others once they were through customs, she walked toward them as Steven got on his phone to locate the transportation that would take them to the Ottawa Celtic Festival venue.
Dunk threw his arm around her and said, “As usual, you managed to disappear. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were ashamed of us.”
Rolling her eyes, her lips quirked upward in spite of her efforts to appear stern. “There are times, Dunk, when you are absolutely adorable. But arguing with someone in customs when you know we have a concert to get to is not one of them. And I, for one, refused to be part of that.”
“Damn, I think your new boyfriend has made you stuck up.”
“Leave her alone,” Jamie said, knocking Dunk’s arm from Christina’s shoulders.
Dunk simply grinned, twirled his ever-present drumsticks between his fingers, and walked over to the van that just parked near them. Steven was talking to the driver and Dunk stood near his percussion cases.
“Don’t mind him. You know how he is.”
She looked between Mike and Jamie as they flanked her, walking toward the van. She sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, guys. I’m really not trying to be a bitch, but I just recently decided that being his babysitter is not what I want to do.”
“We don’t expect you to be his babysitter. Anyway, I think Dunk’s drunkenness is more of an act than a real problem,” Mike said.
Cocking an eyebrow toward him, she jerked her chin back. “Seriously?”
Mike shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he likes the persona of being Drunk Dunk.”
Before she had a chance to ask more questions, Steven hustled them into the van and gave directions to the driver. Still feeling queasy, she sipped on water as the driver zipped in and out of traffic from the airport, through part of town, and finally out to the rolling hills and green pastures.
Once they were through the gates of the festival where the entertainers, food trucks, athletes, and vendors could park, they began unloading their equipment. The van driver assisted, and she noticed he didn’t leave immediately.
“Is he staying?” she asked, making sure to carry her violin.
Steven grinned and nodded. “Yeah, he’s paid to spend the day of the festival with us. He’s going to help with our equipment and then get us back to the hotel tonight when the festival is over.”
“And how much is that going to cost? If we pay him all that money, that means we hardly made anything on this gig.”
Steven put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Don’t worry about it. I told you that I’ve been working on an angle, and the guy who’s helping with an agent said he’d foot the bill.”
She opened her mouth to question him further, but Steven turned and walked away, directing the move of their equipment to the back of the stage at the entertainment tent.