“Likewise,” I said.
I escorted him to the door and wished him well. As his Rolls Royce pulled away, I peered into the parking spot that Devin had taken ownership of upon arrival. It seemed strange to see it vacant.
I went to my office, got my phone, and sent him a text.
Hope everything’s okay. Let me
know if you need anything. :)
I placed the phone on the corner of my desk and began my queries into the homes Harry referenced. I then began searching for similar homes in the area. Phone calls to prospective sellers followed, hoping they’d reached a point that they were ready to sell. In what seemed like no time, the day had escaped me.
Janine stepped into my office and cleared her throat. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“Devin?” I asked.
She cocked her hip and gave me a look. “He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?”
“He is.”
“Where the fuck is he?”
“Sick. Why?”
“He was doing something for me. I wanted to know if it was done.”
“What was it?”
“What’s it matter?” she asked, her voice taking on a tone of irritation.
Her New Jersey attitude was often more than I could stomach, but she was a great worker. The East Coast clients loved her. I was surprised that Devin could work with her; then again, he seemed to get along with all walks of life.
“I guess it doesn’t,” I said. “I was just wondering.”
“He’s good with compiling data,” she said. “He’s making me a spreadsheet of homes and the clients’ names for certain dates and price ranges so I could call them to see if they were ready to upgrade.” Her brows raised. “Satisfied?”
I laughed. “Sure.”
“When’s he coming back?”
“Tomorrow, I suppose.”
“He better,” she said. “I need that spreadsheet.”
She stomped off in a huff. I reached for my phone and checked my text messages, only to find that Devin hadn’t responded.
If he was too sick to respond, he was too sick to visit. The best thing for him was to allow him to get his rest. I hadn’t spent a night alone in months and wondered what I should do with my time.
I lifted the receiver of my desk phone and buzzed Kate’s office.
“Kate Winslow,” she said.
“This is Teddi, dork.”
“Oh, hey. What’s up?”
“Want to go out after work?”
“I can’t. Forrest is in town.”
“Crap.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” she asked.
“What?”
“When they’re gone.”
“Yeah,” I said, releasing a sigh. “It sure does.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Devin
“Where the fuck you been?” Herb asked, nodding toward my backpack. “And where the fuck are you going?”
I’d hoped I could get out of the house before he got home from playing cards but didn’t have such luck. “It’s best you don’t know.”
“You’re living under my roof,” he snarled. “I have a right to know.”
“It’s best you don’t, old man. Believe me.”
He gestured toward the backpack. “What’s in the rucksack?”
“I’d rather not say.”
He gave me a cross look. “You back to your old bullshit?”
“I’ve got some business to take care of.”
“At nighttime? You’re back to busting skulls for that ragtag bunch of fuck nuggets in Miami, aren’t you?”
“Like I said, I’ve got some business to take care of. It’s best that you know nothing about it.”
“Since when do we keep secrets from each other?” he asked.
“Since telling you what I’m doing would make you aware of the commission of a crime.”
There were a dozen different ways to resolve the issue I was faced with. None of them were wrong. They were all potentially effective, but one stood out as having a far greater rate of success. As with most criminal operations, it had risks associated with it that the other options didn’t.
The risk wasn’t my concern. Success was.
Thirty minutes of surveillance informed me that he was home alone. My previous visit to the unattended home confirmed there was no alarm system, Nest doorbell, or security systems in place.
Based on that belief, I planted the heel of my boot against the back door, just beside the knob. The doorframe splintered into shreds, and the door flew open, hitting the adjoining wall with a thwack!
I took long strides through the kitchen and into the living room.
He jumped up from the couch with eyes as wide as saucers. “What—”
I struck him on the cheek with the butt of the pistol. He fell to the floor between the coffee table and the couch.
“Who the hell—”
I grabbed a fistful of his hair and lifted him to his feet. “I talk, you listen. Understood?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
I hit him again, splitting a gash open on his cheek. “I talk. You listen. If I want you to speak, I’ll let you know.”
Wincing in pain, he wiped the blood from his cheek.
“Are you alone?”
I’d seen no one else in my surveillance, but I needed to know for sure.
He nodded.
“You have something I need,” I explained. “If you provide it, I will leave, and you’ll likely never see me again. If you do not provide it, I will kill you. This is not negotiable. Provide it or die. Those are the only options. Understood?”
He nodded frantically.
“Through the course of our discussions, if you lie to me about anything, I will shoot you in your left thigh. This is also nonnegotiable. Lie to me, get shot. Understood?”
He blubbered as he nodded his response.
“Lastly, if this matter is resolved to my liking but you decide at any time to go to the police, you will be killed. Don’t think that if I’m arrested, this step will not be taken or that you can save yourself from this fate. There are thirty-two men just like me who will line up to wipe your existence from this earth. Understood?”
He began to cry.
“I need you to acknowledge what I’ve said,” I warned. “Talk to the cops, you die. Understood?”
He nodded.
“Where’s your phone?” I asked. “You may speak.”
“It’s…the end table,” he stammered. “Over there.”
“Do you have a surveillance system? You may speak.”
“No.”
“Any cameras?”
He shook his head.
I released his hair and pointed the silenced Walther .22 pistol at his thigh. “You took approximately seven hundred thousand dollars from Teddi Mack. I need that money returned, no exceptions. If you return it, I will leave. If you do not, you will die.”
He swallowed heavily. “I don’t have it with me.”
“I’ll wait until you do.”
“I can’t. There’s no way I can get it right now.”