Page 16 of Force At Third

“You work out today?”

“Just getting back,” I call to him as I head right.

“Yoga?” he asks, sounding as shocked as I was that I participated.

“Namaste.” I laugh.

“Great workout. Stick with it; it gets easier,” he suggests.

I nod and smile while thinking, Fuck that.

Once inside the door, I drop my bag and peek out the window like a little bitch, waiting until Nour heads inside, because as soon as he’s in, I’m going to do some investigating, like Gwendolyn York does. However, there’s a twist since I’m investigating her.

The minute I step outside and to the edge of my deck, I see Zane Marks, Gwendolyn’s partner, and Danny Aiken in Cecilia Shaw’s backyard.

“Fate, you beautiful bitch you.” I chuckle as I head back inside to catch some Z’s, knowing that if all goes well, it’s going to be a late night.

* * *

After a quick shower, I lie in bed, ignoring the fact that no open windows are carrying the salty breeze or scent of the sea, mingling with the mild aroma of driftwood and sun-kissed sand my way. No rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore, soothing and calming my mind before a big game. And I focus on that, too, because if I don’t, I’ll focus on Gwendolyn York being next door, and everything will be off for tonight’s game. Or should I say games—plural.

Well, shit

4

Wednesday

Marks

You got a minute?

Me

Yeah, what’s up?

I hit send then check his location. He’s at LAX, which is not good.

My phone rings, and I hit accept.

“What’s going on?” I ask apprehensively.

“Haven’t had eyes on William Center since around midnight Pacific time. He hasn’t left the property, either.” He’s pissed. “I managed to bribe one of the maintenance workers to check the premises. The kid went above and beyond. He asked one of the staff members at Club Ped, who’s sweet on him. She told him that she hasn’t seen him since cleaning up after the little poker game ended at two a.m.”

That would have been five in the morning here. It’s now just after noon. Seven hours.

“Straight flight would have been just over five hours.”

“Did you have the moms check flights?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “There is nothing under his name. There were no direct flights from LAX to Jersey or New York at that time.”

“Private flight or fake identification?”

“If he’s going either route, he’s jeopardizing parole, which means?—”

“He’s coming after one of them,” I finish his thought.

“Plan stays in play. Cali surveillance is continuing. I’m coming to you. I’ll be there for the game. I’m going to give Danny a call and give him a heads-up. You stay at Pope and Whit’s. Dig in deep, and follow those leads.”

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