Page 84 of Call Back

Anger flashed in his eyes.

“He wasn’t there about the industrial park incident,” I said, feeling slightly guilty. “He was dropping off a packet of information that Brady had requested.”

That piqued his interest. “Do you know what was in it?”

“How would I know?” I hedged. “It was police business.”

He shot me a look that let me know he didn’t buy it. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked about my text from last night. Don’t you want to know about the lead I found?”

I hadn’t forgotten, but he’d caught me by surprise. He hadn’t given me a chance to ask. But his prompting reminded me that I’d texted Belinda back—twice—and still had no response. I was starting to get worried. I was also tired and cranky, so I snapped out a response, “Are you going to hold your information hostage? You don’t tell me unless I tell you?”

He studied me for a moment as though trying to decide whether to answer before he said, “Get into a lover’s spat with your boyfriend?”

My guilt for kissing Colt—and enjoying it far too much—had ruined everything with Brady, but I wasn’t about to admit it to him. “Shut up, Colt. Tell me or don’t, it’s up to you.”

“Jesus,” he spat out. “What is your problem today? You want to hear the information about the gold or not?”

God. I really was a giant bitch. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Yeah, me either.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I got some information on the history of when the pieces were made and who they were sold to.”

“They can track that?”

“Not all of it, but some. Most of them were minted in the U.S., but some came from Switzerland. I’m trying to find out who your father took it from.”

Out of habit, I nearly protested his accusation against my father. Accepting that Daddy was a criminal would take some time. “But I thought we’d proven that he’d taken it from Steve Morrissey.”

“Sure looks that way, but I think we should find things out for ourselves instead of taking a lying murderer’s word for it.”

He had a point.

“I’ve also discovered that Lopez often stayed at a friend’s house down in Chattanooga. I’m going to check it out. There’s a chance he could have left the gold there.”

“You think he had time to go down there and back?”

“He stole it from you on Friday afternoon. It’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive, and since few people knew he made a habit of staying there, it would have been a safe place to hole up.”

“Why wouldn’t he have just kept it in his car?”

“Would you carry around one million in gold in your car?” Colt asked.

“You’re asking the wrong person,” I said. “I had it stuffed around my apartment.” I pursed my lips. “Keeping it in a safety deposit box would have been smarter.”

“In your case, yes. But in Lopez’s situation, the police thought he’d been kidnapped and possibly murdered.” He put an arm around my shoulder and squeezed. “We’ll get it back.”

“I hope so. Our lives depend on it.”

“So you didn’t tell Bennett?”

“I said I wouldn’t,” I said in a snotty tone. Besides, since other issues had seemed bigger, I’d put it farther down on the priority list. It was a sad day when all your other problems were bigger than an ultimatum to deliver a million dollars’ worth of gold or die. “We’re on our own with this. If we manage to actually find the gold, we have to hand it over.”

“Hell no, we’re not giving that asshole our gold. We’re keeping it. And if you don’t want your share, I’ll keep all of it. But at the moment, I want food. Is your apartment still as bare as a grocery store two years into a zombie apocalypse?”

I shot him a glare. “When would I have gotten food? Never mind, don’t answer that. Look, I can get your food if you promise to come up and rip out all of those cameras.”

His forehead furrowed. “I don’t know, Mags . . . We’re still not sure who it was since we’re pretty certain it wasn’t Frasier.”

“Then I guess we’ll get our big reveal on Saturday night when we hand it over.”

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