Page 87 of Smith

“Sammy the daughter had some friends over. Don’t know exactly how many because I’m not a creep who likes checking out barely legal girls but I saw at least three in the front room. Looked like maybe they were dancing or jumping around. Whatever they were doing had Billy’s full attention.”

Now that wasn’t nothing.

Sick fuck.

“Ever know him to have a girlfriend?”

“Nope. Never seen a woman over there.”

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Zane.

It was time to wrap this up.

“We’d appreciate it if you kept this conversation to yourself,” I told him.

“No problem. If you give me your email I’ll send you the data from Sunday.”

Cash prattled off a generic Gmail address. After an excruciating long time, Mike had sent all the info to Cash.

We exchanged quick goodbyes, with another promise from Billy’s neighbor he wouldn’t tell anyone we’d been there to speak to him.

I waited until we were back in the SUV before I called Zane back.

“You’re a fucking dumbass,” was his intro. “I hope you know your carcass has been picked over for the last two hours.Whatever you did this morning freaked Aria out. I’m only giving you this heads up so you don’t walk back into the office and have a domestic in my conference room. I don’t pay you to fight with your girlfriend on company time. So get your ass back here, pick her up, and take her home and fix this shit.”

Zane disconnected before I’d had a chance to say a damn word.

Home.

Jesus fuck, why did that word burn a hole in my chest?

CHAPTER TWENTY

“I’m gonna marry her!” I heard from under the table.

“No. I’m marrying her. You’re marrying Nebraska!” Another little voice said.

“I’m marrying KK,” a third voice declared.

“You can’t marry KK, Eric, she’s already married to Cooper,” Ivy told her son from the doorway. “You three better get out from under that table before your fathers find you.”

“Too late,” Zane boomed. “Chewy, Cujo, and Eric, get out from under the table. Now.”

With equal parts confusion and curiosity, I watched a little black-haired boy crawl out from under the table and get to his feet.

“Hi Daddy.”

Next the twins, Robbie and Asher, who I’d been introduced to earlier when I met their mother Jasmin, crawled out and stood next to their cousin.

“Uncle,” the boys greeted in unison.

“Mission fail,” Zane scolded.

The boys’ shoulders hunched.

“It was Asher’s fault,” his brother accused.

I sat quietly. Zane walked into the room. Ivy followed Zane but unlike him, pulled out a chair and settled in.

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