“Be safe,” I said before ending the call.
I scrubbed a hand over my head. Vince knew the location of the vault? How the hell could he know that unless he’d…
Fuck.
I snapped my fingers at my crew. “Another fact to add into the mix? Jericho said the bug was government issue, possibly DEA. I dismissed that at the time, thinking there was no way the DEA would work that way. But we also couldn’t figure out how the cartel was using it without access to the tracking software.”
“But if Vince is working for the cartel,” Elvo began.
“Then he has access to all the DEA’s tools, with none of those pesky legal restrictions,” Riggs finished. “He bugged our office. He tried to hack our computer system.”
“Yeah,” I said heavily. “Vince couldn’t program a remote control on his own. But who knows what kind of hackers the cartel might have on their payroll? I’m trying not to jump to conclusions here, but I think that’s exactly what happened.”
I still found it shocking, though. As much as I disliked Vince, I never would have thought him capable of this.
“Are there any leads on Buck Nutter’s whereabouts? I can’t decide if I want to find him or not,” I admitted. “But it would be nice if he could tell us what the fuck the information on the Horn is and whether it’s worth all this trouble. What happens when we finally get our hands on the Horn and it’s full of someone’s FarmVille harvest totals?”
“It’s not FarmVille,” Kev said with a withering sigh. “I can’t believe you think this is anything like FarmVille.”
Hux returned from the hallway where he’d gone to make the call to his contact at the DEA, and shot Kev a commiserating look. “Champ’s never really understood. Just let it go. It’s a generational thing.”
“We’re the same age,” I growled. But I could tell by the look on Hux’s face that he’d learned something. “What’d you find out?”
“According to official records, Vincent Parler has been on mandatory administrative leave since January first.”
I stared at him. “That’s not possible.”
“Also, there is no record of this case in their systems. Nothing under Cartel de Luna that’s associated with Tennessee, nothing with the name Buck Nutter, and nothing mentioning Horn of Glory.”
My heart rate sped up the way it did when shit started to go down on a mission. “Holy shit.”
Vince was the linchpin of this whole case. It felt like reality had upended itself. Fortunately, Riggs indirectly helped me settle myself again when he walked over to Kev and clapped him on the shoulder. “Focus on the red devil. Make sure he’s not following Champ’s cake.”
Getting Quinn safe and putting this whole situation to rest were my priorities now. I could obsess over what the hell had happened to Vince later.
Thankfully, the red devil stayed at his hotel. By the time Elvo and I got to Drakes Farm, Quinn had already texted me that Tommy had agreed to consider his plan, precisely as Quinn had predicted. Turned out his wedding-planner instincts were on point.
Tommy had a lot of questions, which was to be expected, but he invited us to sit down with him and discuss it as long as his personal security team was there as well.
His personal bodyguard turned out to be Levi’s father. When I met Rod Christianson, I wondered how the dynamic would change between the two alpha males now that their kids had run off to Vegas in a shocking elopement.
I had not expected Tommy to greet me with a handshake when we stepped into his home office, then offer me a celebratory cigar and a guest chair next to Quinn.
“Couldn’t be prouder of my little girl.” He leaned back in the leather desk chair behind his large wooden desk and puffed on his own cigar. “Levi’s like the son I never had. He’s the man I’d’ve chosen for her if anyone around here asked my opinion.”
“Yep. Don’t get me wrong, it woulda been nice if my boy’d been a little less dramatic about the thing.” Rod rolled his eyes and leaned his elbows against the arms of his chair. “Heck, I’ve known how he felt about Marissa since they were kids. Not sure why he had to wait until the last minute to tell her so. Buuuut, he pulled his head out of his ass eventually, so I guess that counts for something.”
Tommy nodded. “Woulda been nice if they’d figured this out before we had to plan this whole shindig and paint over my dang silo. Carlotta’s had to call an emergency consultation with her astrologer, her stylist, and her spiritual healer just to get over the shock. And Junior Dunwoody called me to express his outrage about my daughter dumping his son—”
“Asshole,” Rod muttered.
“Yep,” Tommy agreed. “Seems Trey flew off to Mexico with his best man the minute Marissa told him the wedding was off and left his parents to call their guests—”