“Will do.”
“Thanks, Camden.” With that, Sheridan rang off.
Camden returned his cell to the table, and his tiger’s hackles lowered.
“What was that about?” asked Aspen.
“Judith is missing. Apparently, she overheard an enforcer tell Sheridan that if the vandalism was an inside job, Judith would be his most likely suspect. It seems that she’s fled, as if not wishing to stick around and be falsely blamed for something she didn’t do.”
Aspen bit her lip, pensive. “If it wasn’t for the ‘For T’ thing, I’d think it possible that she could be our culprit. I mean, I saw how she was when she turned up at our complex. It doesn’t seem like she’s moved passed what happened all those years ago. And she might have gotten tired of being the only person who was, so she brought it all back to the present. But I can’t think of a reason why she’d involve me in that. And I doubt she’d know her way around a car bomb.”
“Yeah, it’s seriously unlikely that she had anything at all to do with that.”
“The only other theory I can think of is that she and Wayland are somehow in cahoots, but that doesn’t feel right. For him, this is all very personal. He wouldn’t bring someone else into it. He’ll want to be solely responsible for whatever pain he causes you and me.”
Camden pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him. “My thoughts exactly.” He curled his arms around her and slipped one hand into her panties to cup her delectable ass. “I’m sure Sheridan will eventually figure out why Judith left, and I’m sure he’ll eventually track her down. If he doesn’t do it, her mate will.” Camden would never give up trying to find Aspen if she disappeared. Never.
Aspen loosely looped her arms around his neck. “Do you think she might come to you looking for somewhere to hide?”
“No. She’ll know I wouldn’t care to protect her from Sheridan or anyone else.” Camden pressed a soft kiss to his mate’s mouth. “Back to our evening, because I’m not letting my old pride’s business spoil it, why don’t we skip the movie and just head straight to the part where I claim your ass.”
Aspen reared back as much as his grip would allow. “Well that came out of nowhere.”
“It’s been circling around my head all day. I want to claim every part of you.” It was something he needed to do. A need that was primal. Elemental. Old as time.
“Your finger did the job just fine.”
“My finger can’t come in your ass.”
“Oh, don’t be too sure. Those hands of yours are very talented. I doubt there’s anything they can’t do.”
A smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. “Think you can distract me with pretty compliments?”
“Is it working?”
“No.”
Feigning anxiety, Aspen twiddled her fingers in her lap and forced her lips to tremble. “I’m just a little scared. I mean, it’s going to hurt.”
“You’re not scared, you’re playing with me.”
Totally. It was one of her favorite things to do, and it never failed to tickle her bearcat. “I’ll make you a deal.”
He sighed. “It’s going to involve zombies, isn’t it?”
“If you watch Train to Busan and Resident—” She cut off as knuckles rapped on her front door.
“Saved by the metaphorical bell,” said Camden, loosening his hold on her.
She stood upright. “So it would seem.”
He flicked a hand at the door. “Get rid of whoever it is.”
She gave him a mock frown. “That would be rude.”
“So?”
Aspen snorted. She crossed to the door and peeked through the peephole. Her brows lifted. A small cluster of people stood outside—her girls, Tate, Luke, Deke, and Palmer.
Aspen opened the door and greeted, “Hey.”
Saying their hellos, everyone other than Deke and Palmer wandered inside. The two enforcers positioned themselves in front of the door, on guard.
Closing it, Aspen asked, “What brings you guys here?”
“Progress,” replied Havana with a smile.
“Wayland used his credit card at a gas station yesterday,” Tate explained. “We know, because River had asked its usage to be flagged.”
Camden sat up straighter. “Where exactly is the gas station?”
“Only half an hour’s drive from here,” replied Tate. “River managed to get a glimpse of the CCTV footage there. Wayland was wearing waterproof waders, looking like a regular fisherman. I know the area, and I know there are fishing cabins nearby.”
Aspen folded her arms. “You think he’s staying in one of them?”
“Yes,” said Tate. “River did a little digging and discovered that one of them is a rental cabin. It’s currently occupied by a Mr. Mendez.”
“LaToya’s surname was Mendez,” Aspen remembered.
Bailey nodded, sinking into the armchair. “This is definitely Wayland.”
Camden stared at Tate for long seconds. “You’re thinking what I’m thinking. This is a trap. Wayland practically left a trail of breadcrumbs.”
“Oh yeah, and he’s hoping you’ll follow the trail,” said Tate. “He’ll be expecting us to sneak up on the place, just as we did his aunt’s old home.”