Heartthrob (The Bennett Brothers 3)

“He’s a dad with one daughter. When I got my phone back from Mathis, there were several messages from him with memes of men holding shotguns. He went as far as to send me the Florida process for acquiring firearms. I had serious flashbacks to Grandpa Roy’s shotgun incident.”

Grace cough-chokes, her water dribbling out of the corner of her mouth. I eye her suspiciously.

“Um, actually, Mitch called me and asked for Grandpa’s number.”

“Did you give it to him?”

“Yes, how could I not?”

Grace’s grandpa is my number one fan. He and I hit it off, and he enjoys my mouthy nature. It’s a running joke he wants to steal me away. Of course, he’s fifty years older and lost the only love of his life, so it’s always fun to play along. Years ago, he chased Grace’s date off his property with his shotgun, shooting out his taillights when the guy was caught screwing the town bimbo in the barn. The story is classic. Every time he tells it, he embellishes more and more, which is exactly why I’d never want my dad to get any ideas.

“Well, maybe I should warn Mathis.”

“I’m sure it’s all fun and games.” Grace attempts to assure me.

I peer beyond the dining area and find Mathis staring at me. He pats his thigh, indicating for me to come sit with him.

“I think I’m being summoned.” I wave my wine toward the living room.

“One more second.” Bizzy puts her hand on my elbow. “You seem happy, are you?”

“Remember that story about our first night together when I woke up and felt promise and hope? That feeling is back.”

Her lips split into a wide smile, and she squeezes my elbow before jerking her head to the other room.

Mathis is looking at his phone when I get to him and nudge myself onto his lap.

“Who’s messaging you this late?”

“It’s a meeting request for tomorrow afternoon.”

“Doctor’s powwow?”

“No, this looks like it includes management and doctors from pediatrics and med-surg.”

“That’s unusual, do you know what’s going on?” Bizzy questions.

“I heard just this morning rumblings about supplies going missing.”

“Is that why the Director of Material Management was meeting with Evie yesterday?” I remember seeing him in her office.

“Most likely, he’s meeting with different supervisors.”

“What’s missing?”

“Petty things. Boxes of gauze, alcohol swabs, latex gloves, stuff like that. But, a few days ago, several cases of hypodermic needles were unaccounted for, which set off alarms.”

“Oh shit,” Nick and Shaw say at the same time.

Drug rings and trafficking in Miami has always been a major problem. Recently, certain areas have had major busts, and drugs confiscated are generally associated with syringe injection. Needles are selling like gold on the black market. DEA is cracking down hard on supplier resources. The missing cases of hypodermic needles from a hospital are a major cause for alarm.

“Do they suspect someone in our two departments?” The thought of someone on our team stealing for drug use is unfathomable to me.

“Not yet, these meetings are being held with every department over the next few days. I’ll know more tomorrow,” he explains.

“Are you concerned?”

“Not yet, no need to borrow worry. This meeting seems pretty standard.” His face is impassive, showing no signs of concern.