When He's Bad (Walker Security - Adrian's Trilogy 2) - Page 59
“And yet Grace isn’t a flirt,” I say. “She isn’t one to go to Lucifer, the lady magnet, plus why not tell whatever this is to Pri?”
“We’ll know soon enough,” Blake says, moving on “I pulled a photo from the Millers’ security feed.” He turns his MacBook in my direction. “Know him?”
I study the tall, bald dude wearing a suit on the security feed. “No, and he’s memorable. I wouldn’t forget him if I’d seen him before.”
“I’ll text you a photo to show Pri,” Blake offers. “And I’ll get some facial recognition going on.”
I set the recorder down. “That’s what Pri’s mother gave her. It’s not overly helpful. And no, neither me nor Pri recognize his voice.”
Blake inclines his chin and reaches for the recorder.
“Anything from Royce or Lauren?” I ask. Chicago now on my mind.
“A lot of bullshit,” Blake says. “Lauren apparently started to curse when she never curses.
“Great,” I say. “Just great.”
“She’s meeting the DA in the morning. More then.”
I nod and head back downstairs. Pri, now in sweats and a tank top, meets me in the kitchen. “Anything else?” she asks. Her cheeks are pink and her lips swollen from my kisses.
The anything else I want is her naked and in bed again, but that will have to wait for later. “Nothing monumental,” I say, unpacking the food and popping it in the microwave before setting the timer.
“Nothing from your legal team on Chicago? I just tried to call Ed again. I think I’m going to have to have Blake intimidate him again.”
“Lauren’s meeting with the DA tomorrow. Nothing good happened today. Nothing much but her frustration from what I can tell.” I shift the topic. “Grace asked Lucifer to dinner, says she needs to confide in him.”
Pri blanches. “What? I’m confused. Grace doesn’t invite men to dinner and she tells me everything.”
I dig around in the cabinet and find us glasses for the wine. “They aren’t wine glasses,” I say. “But they’ll have to do. And maybe something happened after we left that set Grace off?”
Her lips press together. “It doesn’t fit what I know of her. At all.”
“Do you know this guy?” I show her the photo Blake sent me.
She studies it and shakes her head. “That’s the guy speaking on the recording?”
“It is,” I say. “I don’t know him either. Blake will track him down.”
“I could just ask my father tomorrow.”
“You want to stay,” I say, and it’s not a question. I knew the minute she accepted the dinner reservation, her mind was made up.
“I promise to let you try and talk me out of it while we eat.”
“And I will, Pri. You know I will.”
Her lips curve. “I have no doubt.”
She’s smiling at this one but I’m not.
There’s a ticking clock to that trial and the longer we’re here in this city, the same city as Waters, the more we tempt fate.Chapter Forty-OneADRIAN
A few minutes later, Pri and I are side by side on the bed, lasagna, and wine in easy reach.
“This is my favorite Italian place ever,” Pri says. “Well, in the States. I went to Italy a few years back. That’s the best Italian food. Try it.”
She went to Italy. Damn, I hate the clawing feeling that tells me it was with Logan. But I dig into the pasta and offer my easy approval. “Excellent. I approve.”
She glances over at me. “I went with my mother. She was having some identity crisis.”
“I didn’t ask, but I would have. I’m glad it wasn’t him.”
“I wouldn’t be talking about it if it was. He’s another reason to stay. He’ll confront me. He’ll be angry and maybe he’ll tell me something worthwhile.”
Logan is the last person I want to talk about right now, I think, but I say, “I’ll have to make you some of my mom’s tamales for Thanksgiving.”
“That was a dramatic shift of topic and I get the point. No Logan talk right now. As for the tamales. Thanksgiving?” she asks, sipping her wine.
“Yeah, baby. You think I’m going to let you spend it without me?”
“Good,” she says, setting her glass down, her lips hinting at a smile, her eyes bright. “I want to try those tamales. Your mom must have been a good cook.”
“The best. She was Mexican and my father was white, but you know that. My mom was a little thing with a big personality.”
“You miss them,” she observes.
“I do, especially at the holidays.” I decide this is a moment to at least offer a little truth. “My brother, Alex, and I thought Waters had my father killed.”
“That’s why you both went undercover with the Devils.”
“Yes,” I say recapping at least some of what I told Blake. “We didn’t tell the officials. We knew they’d say we were too close to the case.”
“And did he kill your parents?”
“Someone working for him did. Ironically, Waters had the guy killed six months into my undercover work.” I glance over at her. “I won’t lie and say it didn’t please me. But for Alex, it created some weird misplaced loyalty to Waters, and Waters didn’t even know who the guy was to us.”
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