“Man, Trevor has cash stashed everywhere. He could live forever on the lam with the money he’s got.”
“Where else would he go? Where are his safe houses, other properties or favorite spots?” I ask, leaning down with my hands on the table, glaring at the jackass in front of me. I’m pretty sure the well has run dry. We’ve gotten the same intel from each of them. I’d be surprised at this point if they had any idea of Harper’s whereabouts.
“You know all of his properties, I don’t know if he owns anything else.”
I push myself off the table and cross my arms and look back at the jailer standing at the door. “Take him back.”
“Hey, what about my deal?”
“You’ll get a deal when I get Harper, how’s that for a deal. You gave me nothing I don’t already know.” The jailer tags him by the bicep, his wrists cuffed behind his back.
“Fuck you, pig! You said I’d get a deal,” he yells over his shoulder as he’s being pulled out of the interrogation room.
“You gotta give me Harper.” I shake my head and watch him leave. Then I look to Mac who’s leaning against the wall. “He’s fucking disappeared.”
“Looks like it. And we’ve got nothing from his wife’s phones. Harper hasn’t contacted her again. Does Megan Harper know Gabby was attacked?”
I shake my head. “I’ve told Gabby not to talk to Megan, but I can’t help what her friends do and they’re one pissed off group of women. They love Gabby, I think Megan might get kicked out of the club if she supports her husband after what happened. I’ve only overheard conversations when they’ve come to visit and it does not sound good. I just hope Gabby’s friends don’t carry guns, too, they might be tempted to hunt down Harper themselves.”
This is no exaggeration. Reagan threatened homicide multiple times while bouncing a baby on her hip and Lilly said she was going to cut his balls off and shove them up his ass. It was an entertaining show, that’s for sure.
Mac smirks. “How’s she doin?”
“Better every day. I’ll be glad when the bruising is completely gone. I won’t have that constant reminder thrown in my face every time I look at her that I didn’t do enough. Every once in a while, she still winces from moving too fast or stretching the wrong way. The bruises on her ribs’ll take longer to go away, but her temple is almost back to normal. Her headaches are gone and she only has to take meds for her ribs every once in a while. But she’s driving me fucking insane complaining about having to stay home or having someone with her all the time. We’ve gotta find Harper or I’m gonna have to lock her up.”
Mac’s smirk turns into a grin. “I’m sure you don’t mind her driving you insane, Ortiz, nor would you mind locking her up. You can put on a front for everyone else, but I think you’d happily dance straight to the loony bin for that woman. Am I wrong?”
I narrow my eyes. As long as I’ve known him, I wouldn’t even admit this to Adam “Mac” McAlister, but he’s right. The last week and a half have been crazy and my life has been turned on its head, but I wouldn’t change a thing.
After I brought her home from the hospital Thursday, she’s had her aunts with her while I’m at work, but they’ve been told they can’t go anywhere. I spent the weekend with her, other than a few hours on Saturday when I had to come into work and Tony was put on Gabby Duty.
By Sunday she was feeling better and was sick of being in the house, so I took her to church. We grabbed a bite for lunch, then somehow, and I don’t know how in the hell it happened, she talked me into taking her shopping for carpet. All fucking afternoon. We went to three home improvement stores and four flooring showrooms. I’m pretty sure we looked at every piece of carpet in the damned city. I didn’t even know there was that much carpet to choose from. Not only that, but I watched her compare them to paint samples—multiple paint samples for multiple rooms. Then, about three and a half hours into the search, she had the magnificent idea of replacing the carpet on the stairs, as well.
“I mean, I might as well replace it now while I’m doing the basement. It’s going to be such a mess, why go through that twice, right? Hey, are you listening to me?”
In a carpet daze, I blink to focus, and she’s standing barefoot on a carpet square. “Sure, I’m listening,” I respond, monotone.
“Well, what do you think? Wow, you should come and stand on this one. It’s wool and really thick and soft. Come here,” she commands.
“What?”
“Come here, take off your shoes and socks and try it out. I really like it, this could be it.”
“I’m not taking off my shoes.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not, that’s why.”
She narrows her eyes, puts her hands on her hips. “Jude Ortiz, I know for a fact that just because you’re a big, bad federal agent who carries a gun for a living, that you do indeed take your shoes off. I mean,” she looks around and then lowers her voice. “I’ve slept with you for four nights now and know for certain that you do not sleep in those bulky boots. You take your shoes off just like the rest of the civilization and when you do, don’t you want to walk on something soft? This is the basement we’re talking about here, the winters get cold you need something cozy under your feet.”
I stand here and stare at her. She’s in a light blue sundress with thin straps over her shoulders, tight over her tits, showing a nice amount of cleavage that I’ve enjoyed all day. It hangs straight, hitting a few inches above her knees, her long legs sticking out below. She said she was feeling better this morning, was tired of looking like what she described as “shit,” so she dried her hair for fucking ever. It is now long and silky, flowing down the middle of her back. It even looks more golden than normal since it’s smooth. The blue dress makes her eyes even brighter and she put on enough makeup to cover her almost faded bruise. She’s wearing a fancy necklace and bracelet that’re a mix of silver and pearls stranded together with silver matching earrings. Her pink high heeled sandals have been kicked to the side where she’s glaring at me from her carpet square.
Making a quick decision, I move close and put my hands low on her hips and give her a gentle yank, her hands immediately coming to my chest in surprise. “Are you telling me you think I might be around to walk barefoot on this carpet?”
I can tell I surprised her. She gives me her shocked as shit look, eyes wide and biting her lower lip.
“Well…”
Quietly, I go on. “I’m over the moon that you know I don’t sleep in my boots and I’m looking forward to experiencing your new carpet. So, if you want me around to walk barefoot in your basement, only for you, will I take my shoes off in the middle of a fucking carpet store.” She’s still just staring at me so I give her hips a little shake. “What’s it gonna be Gabby? You’ve gotta tell me if you want me around to walk on your new carpet?”
“Um, I guess. I mean—” she pulls in a big breath. “I want you around to walk on my new carpet.”
Taking a step back, I reach down and pull the tie on my boot, yank it off and toss it aside. I repeat with the other before ripping off my socks and step forward onto the small square with Gabby, pulling her into my arms. Her hands go to my biceps and she tips her head back to look at me. “Well?”