Night Shift 2 Page 10

  Even though I’d had an ol’ lady or two in the last twenty-something years, they didn’t compare to Jackie. I was sure I’d never given them a chance, but it was hard for them to overshadow the perfection of my wife in my memories.

  My phone beeped as I was about to climb onto my bike.

  Tank: Get your dick out of her and come to the Cowboy.

  I wanted to go home and wash away her scent, but Tank came before ridding myself of Molly’s stench.

  Me: On my way—be there in 10.

  When he asked for a favor, I didn’t question him. If Tank wanted me to drive into hell with him at four a.m., I’d show up to fuck shit up with him in a heartbeat.

  ***

  When I walked through the doors of the Neon Cowboy, Tank was seated at our usual table and surrounded by the crew—Frisco, City, Morgan, Thomas, James, Mike, Anthony, and Sam. They were deep in conversation from the looks of it, leaning across the table in close formation. I didn’t even need to hear a word to know that something major was going on.

  “Yo,” City called out when I was only a few feet away. “Sit your ass down, we have a lot to talk about.”

  I pulled out the chair, turning it backward and straddling it. “What’s up?”

  “It’s Johnny,” Morgan replied with his hand in a tight fist on top of the table. “I’m going to kill him if I ever find him.” He slammed his fist down on the table, making all the drinks bounce and come down with a loud clatter.

  I’d never liked the prick. Since the day I met him at Race’s track, there’d just been something about him that seemed off. Race raved about how helpful he was, but I just had a feeling about him. After Race bought the track from him, she hired him to stay on and help her get everything up and running in tip-top shape. He quickly cozied up to Fran, Morgan’s mom, and the rest was history.

  Tank placed his hand on Morgan’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “He stole fifty thousand from the track’s account and disappeared.”

  I was surprised by his balls but not shocked by the audacity. “When?”

  “When he didn’t show up at work today, Race knew something was fishy. Then the bank called because some checks she wrote bounced.”

  “Terrible,” I muttered and shook my head. This wasn’t the time for an “I told ya so.”

  “We’re working this one off the books,” Thomas told me with a raised eyebrow. “I’m sure you have no problem with that.”

  “None,” I said firmly. “But if I find him, I get to beat his ass first.”

  “He’s all yours, buddy,” James said before he looked around the table. “We’re going to gather information and try to find a few leads, then we’ll plan our attack.”

  That was what I loved most about these guys. No one wanted to call the cops or pussyfoot around a problem. Johnny was going to wish he had never been born by the time we were through with him.

  Thomas leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I know tomorrow is Saturday, but we need everyone at the office and working on this.”

  I grabbed the pitcher of beer and poured myself a glass. Molly was still lingering in my mouth, and it wasn’t pleasant. She was like a bad pill, and her aftertaste was stuck in the back of my throat. “I got nothing else to do.”

  “I’ll be there too,” Sam finally piped up in the conversation. “I’m always there when you guys need me.”

  Sam had changed since I’d first met him. In the past, there wasn’t a day I didn’t want to punch him in the face, but he’d grown on me. He’d grown up a lot, and he’d always had our backs. Tough fucker even took a bullet without whining like a little bitch. I even dared to say he’d earned my respect—which wasn’t easy to do, especially after you’d already been classified as a shithead.

  City glanced down at his watch. “I know it’s late, but let’s be there by noon. We don’t want to give this guy too much time to get very far.”

  “There isn’t a place in the world he could hide from us for long, brother,” Mike said, rubbing his chin with the biggest smile on his face.

  “How’s Fran?”

  “She’s devastated and pissed off. My mom is downright scary when she’s mad. Johnny better hope you find him first and not my mother,” Morgan replied and grimaced. “We can’t let her get involved. She’s going to try, but it’s a no-go, fellas.”

  “Understood,” James replied.

  “I have no problem telling her to butt out,” I said and shrugged. “Want me to handle her?”

  Morgan’s eyes sliced to mine. “You will not handle my mother.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Kid, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m just sayin’ she and I are equals. She’d listen to me.”

  “Bear,” Tank whispered at my side and elbowed me in the ribs.

  “What? I’d never touch the woman. Jesus. What the fuck do you guys think I am?”

  “Seriously,” Morgan said through gritted teeth. “You can never keep your shit in your pants. You’re getting nowhere near my mom, Bear, don’t even think about helping.”

  I laughed it off, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it bothered me a little. Fran was a fine piece of ass, but never had I thought about bangin’ her silly. Wait. That was a lie. I did imagine it…more than once. I’d just never act on it.

  “I’m a perfect gentleman,” I told the table, and they all burst into laughter. “Bros before hoes.” I shrugged.

  “Dude.” Morgan dragged his hand through his hair, and he was struggling to stay in his seat.

  I shook my head and set shit straight. “I’m referring to anything with a pussy, my friend. You guys—” I glanced around the table “—always come first.”

  Morgan continued to mumble under his breath, but he dropped the bullshit. Everyone agreed we’d meet at ALFA PI at noon, and then they slowly disappeared until there was only Tank and me left.

  “Another?” I asked and grabbed the pitcher that was almost empty.

  “I’m good.” He waved me off. “You better watch what you say about Fran around Morgan.”

  “Come on,” I groaned before I topped off my glass. “You know me better than that.”

  He glared at me when he stood up, hovering over me. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, Bear. She’s off-limits. Got it?”

  I threw my hands up in the air and pushed back from the table with the pitcher still in my hand. “Fuckin’ A. I’m not tapping that shit, Tank. Get the fuck off my back.”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at her, dumb fuck. You’re lucky Morgan hasn’t caught on.”

  I slammed the pitcher against the table and narrowed my eyes. “Shut the fuck up already about this shit. I’m not going to fuck Fran.”

  “Uh-huh,” Tank muttered before he left too.

  Fuckers.

  I might be an asshole, but I had morals. Didn’t I?

  2

  Bear

  Thomas tapped a stack of papers against the conference table, peering around the room. “Good, everyone’s here. What do we have on Johnny?”

  We had been at it for three hours—making phone calls, tracking down leads, monitoring his digital footprint, and any other information we could get our hands on about John McDougal.

  “McDougal isn’t his real name,” Sam spoke first and pushed a sheet of paper toward Thomas. “It’s O’Sullivan, and he could be using either name.”

  “What about his cell phone?” James asked.

  “It’s been turned off,” Morgan told us as he rubbed his temples.

  “Have your buddy keep on it in case he turns it back on. We just need a few seconds to find his location,” James replied like we were all new to the game.

  “Already done,” Morgan said.

  “Bank accounts?” Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Empty,” I told him.

  Thomas tapped his pen against the table and leaned back in the chair. “Can someone interview Fran and see what she knows about Johnny? She may think
a detail isn’t important, but it might give us a lead.”

  Morgan dragged his fingers down his face. “I’ll do it.”

  “I got it,” I told him because his mom might not open up as much to him as she would to someone else…someone like me.

  Everyone at the table turned to me with weird looks on their faces.

  “What?”

  “You want to do it?” Morgan stared at me with narrowed eyes.

  “Well, yeah.” I shrugged.

  “Why?”

  “She may not tell you everything you need to know. Parents don’t like to be as open with their kids as they would be with a friend.”

  He gawked at me. “You’re my mom’s friend?”

  I hid my snarl and talked to cover up my annoyance. “I’m your friend, asshole, and by extension, your mother’s too.”

  “Fine,” Thomas interrupted before Morgan could say something else. “Bear will interview Fran.”

  Morgan’s glare didn’t leave me as the meeting continued. I ignored the stink eye he gave me and listened to everything I could about Johnny. He was a slippery motherfucker. He hid in plain sight, underneath our noses, and we were never the wiser. I knew every man around this table felt like me—a complete fool.

  “Where’s the last place he used his credit card?” Frisco asked, making a new bullet point on his fancy legal pad.

  Kids. They wrote stupid shit down or put it in their notes in their fancy-ass cell phones. I only wrote down the most important information.

  I was old-school and used my memory with most shit. I didn’t have time to flip through pages when I was working a case or trying to track someone down. I swear technology had dumbed them down about ten pegs in the evolutionary chain.

  “Yesterday just outside of Gainesville,” Sam answered.

  “Morgan?” James called out.

  I glanced out of the corner of my eye and realized he was still staring at me. “Morgan,” I said, finally turning to look at him with a serious face.

  “What?” Morgan replied, his eyes growing narrower.

  “Are you listening or giving Bear the evil eye over there?” James laughed, and I couldn’t help but join in.

  Morgan’s face didn’t change. “I think someone else should interview my mom.”

  Thomas cleared his throat before speaking. “It’s already decided. Bear will do it.”

  “Come on, kid,” I said with a smile on my face. “I promise to be a complete gentleman. You’re like family to me.”

  His upper lip snarled, and I was about to say “Down, boy” when his face finally softened a bit. “Fine, Bear. I’m trusting you with this.”

  I nodded, and guilt gnawed at me because I did want Fran. I’d always pictured her naked underneath that tracksuit. She was an enigma to me. I could tell she had a smokin’ body, but for some reason, she wanted to hide it like she was a Golden Girl. I didn’t know what happened to some women when they matured; they felt the need to hide what they had when they should have been showing it to the world.

  “Bear, can you meet with her tonight?” James asked.

  “On it,” I said as I nodded, trying to hide my excitement. “Let me go call her now.” I stood and excused myself, feeling Morgan’s eyes on me as I walked out of the room and closed the door quietly.

  Instead of calling her from my cell phone, I decided to use the office line so it was more official. I sat for a moment and collected my thoughts before I dialed her number that I had scribbled on a tiny scrap of paper I’d hidden underneath my desk calendar.

  It rang twice before Fran picked up. “Hello.”

  “Hey, Fran.” I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling nervous. “It’s Bear.”

  “Hey, hot stuff.” Her voice was cheerful under the circumstances. “I thought you were Morgan.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart.”

  She giggled softly. “You’re never a disappointment, Bear.”

  “I wanted to know if we could sit down tonight and talk about Johnny.”

  “That fucker. I have a lot to say. Come by tonight, and I’ll cook you dinner.”

  “Franny, you don’t have to do that. It’s too much work. Why don’t you meet me at the bar for a drink?”

  “Nope,” she said quickly. “I feel like cooking. It keeps my mind busy. Be here at six.”

  She hung up the phone before I could answer, and I was left staring at the phone, shocked. It’d been ages since anyone had cooked me a meal. I couldn’t show up empty-handed. I know the guys thought I was an animal, but there was a time when I had manners.

  I stalked back into the room, keeping my eyes down and away from Morgan as I took my seat. The guys were talking more about Johnny and where his next move would be. There was very little we knew about the man, but I figured in the next twenty-four hours we’d have a clearer picture of who the pissant really was.

  “Did you get in touch with Aunt Fran?” Thomas asked from the head of the table.

  Fuck. Franny was related to almost everyone at the table and so far off-limits that I might as well not even have a dick. To put a beautiful morsel like that in front of me, dangling her like a piece of meat, and not to allow me to touch her was just plain cruel. “Yeah. I’m meeting her at six to talk about Johnny.”

  Morgan’s eyebrow rose. “At the bar?”

  “No.” I shook my head while I crossed my arms. “She wanted me to come to her place.”

  “Uh-huh. Maybe I’ll drop by.” Morgan mimicked me and crossed his arms.

  I turned to face him. “Let’s get one thing straight, kid. Your mom isn’t going to want to talk in front of you. Keep your ass away.”

  He leaned forward and invaded my space. “Why wouldn’t she talk in front of me? She tells me everything.”

  “Has she called you to tell you everything she knows?”

  His lips twisted. “No.”

  “That’s my point. She’s embarrassed she didn’t realize he was a lying scumbag. Let me talk with Fran. She’ll be more comfortable.”

  He exhaled loudly before leaning back in his chair. “Fine. Don’t get too comfortable.”

  “Oh, shut up already. We’ve known each other for years. Have a little trust, will ya?”

  “That’s the problem, Bear. I know too much about you.”

  He did too. He’d been around for far too many escapades and antics than I’d like to admit. But he didn’t know the real me. No one did. I shut him away a long time ago, putting up a steel fortress around my heart to protect myself. They all saw the wild, careless me but not the real man underneath.

  I paid his comment no attention and turned back to the conversation at hand. “Let’s go over the information one more time so it’s fresh in my head.”

  After another rundown of the information we had on Johnny, the conference room started to look more like a war room. Phones were ringing off the hook, people were jotting down notes, and we used the whiteboard to draw connections to important leads we needed to follow up on to catch the thieving bastard.

  By the time I walked out of the office, I had just enough time to head to the little Italian bakery to grab some dessert. Fran probably worked her ass off on the meal, and it was the least I could do—plus, I wanted to make her smile.

  3

  Bear

  I pushed the empty plate away and rubbed my belly. “That was so damn good, Franny. I don’t remember the last time I had a meal this great.”

  She beamed at me with the biggest smile. I couldn’t recall when I’d seen her so happy. “I like spoiling you.” The woman could cook like any of those fancy-ass chefs on the television. She didn’t just make a dinner, she made an entire meal. Course after course, she carried out of the kitchen, dishing it out onto my plate before I could protest.

  “Spoil me anytime, babe.” I caught myself and didn’t say anything else because I was already verging on flirting, and Morgan would have my balls.

  “Cooking relaxes me, but you know I’m really no good at i
t. Right? I mean, I’m no Maria.”

  “Well, you must really be stressed.” I glanced around the table filled with dish after dish of different foods. “As for being a good cook, I don’t remember the last home-cooked meal I ate, so it tasted delicious.”

  She burst into a fit of laughter. “No one likes my cooking, not even Morgan. Want a drink?” She stood quickly and headed to the tiny cabinet against the wall. “I need something strong to get through this.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling guilty about putting her out. “We could do this another time.”

  “Sit down,” she commanded me without a thought. “I want you here. I need to talk about it. Alcohol helps. Want one or not?” Her bossiness was definitely a turn-on.

  “Yeah, I’ll take gin and tonic.”

  Her dark, shoulder-length hair parted as she reached into the cabinet and grabbed three bottles. The tiniest patch of exposed skin on the back of her neck peeked out, and my cock started to stir. Off-limits, Cujo. Don’t even think about it.

  “Ice?” she asked with her back to me.

  “Two cubes, please.” My eyes traveled down her body, focusing on her ass and trying to see the outline through the flimsy material of her blue tracksuit. Why couldn’t the woman wear jeans like other people? Her outfit did nothing for her body and made it so hard for my imagination to run wild. I couldn’t even tell if she had on panties, but in my mind I pictured her without.

  She set the drink down in front of me and caught me off guard. “Are you feeling okay? You look flushed.”

  I chuckled softly and hoped she hadn’t caught me staring at her ass. “I’m fine. Just a bit warm,” I lied my ass off.

  “Want me to turn on the air?” she asked and started to move her track jacket away from her skin. “It is a bit warm in here.” She stood quickly, removing her jacket and placing it on the chair before heading to the hallway.

  My eyes zoomed in on her chest instantly. The white T-shirt was partially see-through, and all I could focus on was the outline of her black lace bra. Why did it have to be black? It didn’t match the tracksuit. I highly doubted that the ladies in the Golden Girls wore black lingerie underneath their clothing.