Page 24 of Married to the Mafia

“Right, right,” Miguel said. “Computer finally isolated a ninety-five percent match for our target. Thought you’d wanna know, wasn’t sure if I should—”

“Tell me,” Mikey snapped, tapping keys to wake up another monitor and opening fresh search engines.

“Got him listed as Ralph George. An’ here’s the fun part. Georgie boy’s from all the way out in Las Vegas.”

Brandi’s eyes widened, her gaze tracking back to the waiting email on the other monitor. RG… Those hadn’t been random letters. He was smart enough to bypass security systems and stupid enough to leave his actual initials in his emails. “Vegas? Really?” She clapped a hand over her mouth when she realized she’d spoken that half of the thought out loud.

Miguel let out a whistle. “You’re with a chick? The fuck?”

Mikey’s hand left the keyboard.

Brandi’s mouth opened faster. “A chick? Next time it’s my turn for the coffee run, I’m dumping yours in your lap. I thought we were friends.”

Mikey sighed.

Miguel barked out a loud laugh. “Brandi? Holy shit! That’s even—”

“Focus, Miguel,” Mikey said sharply. “Anything else? Or are you done?”

“No, no, definitely not done,” Miguel said between wheezing gasps. “I just was not prepared for that. Man, half the office thinks you don’t even like each other, this is gonna be great.”

The words cut a little deeper than they should have and Brandi let her hand slide back into her own lap.

“Not for your immediate future,” Mikey snapped simultaneously. “George. What else?”

Miguel sucked in one more audible breath. “Right. Ah, I’m pullin’ up his travel itinerary now, but so far nothin’ on him leavin’ the area. And looks like he returned his SUV to the rental agency late yesterday, so best guess is he’s got some new wheels by now. I did get a real pic, though. Nasty lookin’ fucker. You want me to send it over?”

Mikey took a single second to answer. “Text it to me, update the others. If you get anything current, let me know.”

“You got it.”

Mikey blew out a breath as the line disconnected. He switched the open search engines for something that resembled a color-coded calendar. “Damn. Naturally.” Then he reached out again and tapped a couple of buttons on his phone. Ringing filled the air as he said, “You should probably pay attention for this part.”

Brandi swallowed and nodded. “Okay.” She wasn’t sure what he was even talking about, but if it distracted her from the weird, stabbing disappointment in her chest, she was happy to oblige.

Right up until the line connected and what had to be Dante De Salvo’s voice filled the room. “Mikey, what’s the situation?”

“I have a name and source for Brandi’s attacker,” Mikey said, “and I was hoping you knew if Cris had left California yet.”

Brandi blinked, confused enough to at least be sufficiently intrigued.

“He doesn’t generally call me with his every move,” Dante replied. “You should have his schedule.”

Again, Mikey sighed. “I do, and it says they were due to be in the air about an hour ago. I was just hoping.”

“Why?”

“Because the guy who came after Brandi has Vegas roots.”

Something like a humming sound carried across the line. “This is supposedly about a debt Wesley owes, correct?”

Brandi found herself nodding.

“As far as we know,” Mikey confirmed.

“When was the last time he was in Las Vegas?” Dante asked.

Brandi’s eyes widened and she turned her gaze to Mikey again. He only tipped his head toward the phone. She cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious, and said, “It has to have been at least a year, but I don’t remember him ever specifically mentioning going out that way.”

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