Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Alternately, the Rolex Raye scored for her on our last case bought a shit ton of loyalty.
“Can you ask around?” Luna requested.
“My ass on the line if I do?” Jinx returned.
“We honestly have no idea,” Raye admitted. “We think maybe they look after homeless people.”
Jinx nodded. “I’ll be careful, and I’ll ask. I find something, you buy me a burger.”
“Deal,” I agreed.
She did a finger wave, clutched her jacket back around her bosoms, and strutted off.
We climbed into the Sportage.
I pulled out as Raye announced, “Okay, we have feelers out. What time do you want to head out tomorrow?”
It was college football season, so unless my brother’s friends went to a bar to watch the games, our audience was captive.
“Say, ten o’clock brunch at Brunch Snob, then we roll out?” I suggested.
“In,” Raye said.
“In,” Luna parroted.
Harlow reached out and gave my thigh a reassuring squeeze, because we had feelers, but the night was a bust.
And then she said, “In.”
There it was.
I put it on and it didn’t feel like it fit.
But I was wrong.
Rolling with my girls.
It fit like a dream.
SIX
TWO QUESTIONS
When we got back to the Oasis, Raye went straight to her pad and her hot guy, and Luna came with me to my place to borrow some porn.
As for Harlow, she went right home because it was past her bedtime.
My best chick was an early to bed, early to rise type of girl, even if her shift didn’t start until eleven.
This was because, if she didn’t go to bed at 9:00, she wouldn’t wake up at 5:00 or 6:00, allowing her time to journal, make a complicated and highly nutritional smoothie, hit an early yoga or Pilates class, or that shit women did when they were trussed up to bungee cords and they bounced around a studio. Then she’d go home, make herself some oatmeal with berries or overnight oats with other healthy shit in it, tidy her house or clean a room, take a shower, perform makeup miracles, pick the perfect cute outfit, and hit SC. Always on time.
That was Harlow.
And it was awesome.
But knowing Harlow’s parents, particularly her ballbuster of a mother, it was also something else.
As for Luna, whose shift started at 7:00 a.m., so she had to be up super early just to make it in, it was totally her, when I offered a cocktail after she hit my pad, she accepted and settled in to gab with me until her glass was empty.
She then took her comics and boogied.
This left me cleaning glasses and thinking that Eric still hadn’t touched base.
“Fuck this noise,” I muttered, snatched up my phone and pulled up my texts.
He was a big boy. It was late, but if he was incommunicado for the night, he’d silence his notifications.
But I wasn’t playing this game.
Therefore, I texted, What happened to “tonight?”
The whoosh barely sounded on the sent text before my phone was vibrating with a call.
It was Eric.
Whoa.
That was quick.
While I answered, my heart started beating hard, not only because Eric was connecting, but what it said he did it so quickly.
“Hey.”
“You home?” he asked.
Oh.
Well then.
He didn’t get in touch because he knew me and the girls were rolling that night, as he would, since Cap undoubtedly told him.
“I thought you tracked my car.”
“Your car has been sitting at the Oasis all night.”
Right.
Whoops!
He continued, “Cap said you took off in Luna’s ride then took the Kia. He hasn’t reported you’re back.”
Seemed Cap and Raye got busy when she arrived home.
Also seemed the Nightingale team knew about our storage unit setup and tracked those vehicles as well, because I hadn’t noticed Raye use her phone all night to report to Cap.
I was not mad about this.
Never hurt to have a badass (or better, half a dozen of them) keep an eye, especially when you were a totally untrained, amateur sleuth in a satin bomber jacket out interrogating skeeves.
“We’re back,” I pointed out the obvious.
“That didn’t last long.”
“We didn’t get much,” I informed him. “What about you?”
“We’ve asked around. Nothing yet. This is a hole in our operations here in Phoenix,” he shared work stuff, surprisingly openly. “We’ve known about it since we started setting up. None of our men are locals. It takes years to develop an information network in a city, and we’ve only had months. We need a local guy. We’re just having issues recruiting one who fits with the team.”
Supreme badass skills derived from time in the military or law enforcement or some other kickass former occupation, plus insane good looks, plus ridiculous sex appeal, plus complete confidence in their abilities, plus melding perfectly with the unit…
Yeah.
I could see that’d be hard to recruit.
“Raye told me the General told you that Jeff shared where I work,” I said.
His voice was sweet when he noted, “Means he’s good for now, Jess.”