“We’ll definitely check all those avenues,” Trey says.
“Anything else?”
Jules shakes his head. “Not really. These guys move in the fucking shadows. It’s frustrating as fuck.”
“What did we find on the phone?” I ask Trey, who peeks over his screen, but the clicking of the keys continues.
“No number for a sibling. I did find a bank account, though. There have been monthly deposits for the last five years on the same day. Same amount. It’s like Ricardo gets an allowance.”
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and there’s nothing like money to fan a flame. “Where are they coming from?”
Trey answers, “Offshore account.”
“Did you get the name on it?” I ask, my anticipation rising. There’s gotta be a fucking way to find this bastard.
Trey sighs. “Numbered account. I hacked their system. There’s literally no record of the account holder’s name. Whoever this guy is, he’s—at least so far—flawless at covering his tracks.”
“Or he paid someone who is,” I say, clenching my hand into a fist. “Whoever is running things with them is smart, one way or the other. But we’re smarter. Keep looking. We’ll find this asshole. I’m about fucking done with chasing our tails. What about a record of another Ortiz at the school we found Ricardo at?”
Trey shakes his head. “Tried that as soon as we realized there was a second guy who could be related. I found plenty of Ortizes, but I was able to follow all of them up until now. None of them fit the profile or were erased like Ricardo, so I’m guessing this dude didn’t go to that school. The pictures are the best chance we have right now, boss.”
“Fuck,” I say with a grimace, but Trey looks hopeful.
“Even if he’s erased everything from his past and all connections to his brother, we have to be able to get something with facial rec. People don’t realize how many times a day they’re caught on cameras. I’ll find him.”
“I know. Keep looking, whatever it takes. I’m assuming Jules told you how we found Desiree at Magnolia’s old house.” I glance at Jules as he and Trey both give me a short nod. “So you know what we’re facing if we don’t end this. I’m not taking any chances with her. No fucking way.” I hate adding pressure when they’ve both been working night and day on this, but I’m hanging on by a thread.
“I hear you, Moses. I’m on it. Facial rec is going to take a while,” Trey says. “I’m hoping I’ll have something in the morning.”
“Then we take this fucking asshole out. I want this done and behind us—in hours, not days. I’m sick of him having the upper hand.”
“I’ll find something. He’s going down,” Trey says decisively, and all I can do is hope like hell that he’s right. Because this isn’t how we normally roll. We’re always the ones with information, and we’re the ghosts.
With determination in my every step, I leave Trey and Jules and head back to the suite where hopefully Magnolia is relaxing. I’m ready for my woman and a bed.
When I enter the room, though, I find her setting up chess pieces on the board I brought with us atop a table in the living area. She saw me pack it earlier, and I suppose decided to put it to use. Works for me.
She looks up, a knight in her hand, when I close the door. “I wondered when you’d come back. I thought maybe you got lost, because trust me, it’s definitely a possibility in this place.”
I cross the room, my feet sinking into the thick carpet beneath them, and pull her into my arms. “Doesn’t matter if it’s a maze, I’ll always find my way back to you, mama. That’s one thing I can guarantee.”
“Just don’t take fifteen years to do it again, and we’ll be fine.”
My chest rises and falls with a silent chuckle. “Duly noted.” I gesture to the chess piece in her hand. “You want to play a game before we crash?”
“Yeah. I thought it might help take our minds off everything going through them right now. It’ll be good for us.”
Her features show no signs of the stress she’s under. At least, not unless you know what you’re looking for. I recognize the burden in her eyes, and I’m certain she’s thinking about what happened to Desiree. I don’t like it at all.
“We’ll play all night, if it’s what you want.”
She lets her forehead rest against my chest for a few moments. “Thank you. And thank you for not telling me what happened. As much as I want to know, I really don’t. I’m not sure I can handle it.”
I curl my hand around the back of her head and stroke her silky black hair. “Hush. You’ve got no need to carry that.”
When she’s gathered her composure again, she steps away, and her whiskey eyes look slightly less haunted. I take the knight from her hand and place it on the board where it belongs.
It only takes us thirty seconds to set up the rest of the pieces. She sits in the chair behind the white side, and I take the black. We’ve always switched places for each game, and I remember very clearly the last game we played, and she was the black.
“You remember too,” I say softly.
Her gaze cuts to me. “Remember what?”
“Our last game. You were black. I was white.”
A cheeky grin tips her rosy lips. “And I almost . . . almost let you win.”
My jaw slackens at her confession. “You did no such thing, woman. You weren’t letting me win. I almost had you. If I recall, I beat you good a few times those last couple of days.”
Her smile is secretive enough to give the Mona Lisa a run for her money. “Are you sure about that?”
I scoot my chair closer to the table and rest my elbows on it. “I’ve been practicing for fifteen years. I’m ready. Bring it.”
Nineteen
Magnolia
I threw down the gauntlet, and I did it on purpose. I need this game to suck me in and take all my concentration, because my mind is not my friend tonight.
I should have known that sitting across from Moses at a chess board would be all it would take to tame my frazzled thoughts. With him on the other side of the table, there’s nowhere else my brain can go. Between him and the game in front of me, they take up all my attention, which is exactly what I was hoping for.
We’re six moves in when Moses pauses before reaching for his piece. “We didn’t even wager. I think that was an oversight.”
While the game is the perfect distraction, our back-and-forth shit-talking is one of my favorite parts. “You think you’re going to win, big boy? That’s why you want to wager now, isn’t it?”
“Well, smartass, that is one reason,” he says.
I let my chuckle loose, because I love how he smiles when he hears me laugh. Why didn’t I ever notice that before?
“Then place your bet, Moby. I’ll be happy to win whatever you’re putting on the line.”
His green-gold eyes flash, and I have a feeling I’ll love whatever it is.
“When I win, you let me take you on a vacation as soon as this is done. No questions asked. You just pack a bag and get on a plane with me.”