I quickly called Hardy. “Hey, Fitz. How’s it going?”
It seemed logical to me that a guy who had no defined job would need to make money somewhere if he was able to play craps. I’d asked Hardy to do a search of IRS records to see if he paid taxes for any job, anywhere. Not surprisingly, Crow hadn’t filed anything in the last three years. So, where did he get his money?
The easiest way to make money and not really have a record of it was to get paid under the table without taxes being collected, but those jobs were usually low paying. The next best way was to work as a contract employee where they didn’t collect taxes up front, leaving it to the earner to pay the taxes at the time of filing. Like a freelance employee. If one changed employment often enough, it could take quite a while for Uncle Sam to catch up with them.
The red-shirted delivery guy reminded me that delivery services usually hired anyone with a clean driving record and a valid license and insurance, so it stood to reason Crow might be working in the same capacity. Since the last hit on his credit card was in Tahoe, maybe he had relocated from the Green Springs desert lot.
“I’m fine, Hardy. Can I ask you to do what is likely a fruitless search?” Nothing would probably come of it, but it was worth a shot since we had nothing to point us in his direction.
“Of course. I love doing those. They’re my favorite kinds.” The kid giggled, which made me grin.
“Can you have fun searching through records for food delivery services in the Tahoe region? Nevada and California. I’m wondering if our guy is working for one, and the easiest way to catch him is to have him deliver food to our little hotel, you dig?” Hey, it was a lame idea, but nobody else was coming up with anything except Jagger, and I didn’t want to sit through another brainstorming session with him.
“Oh, I like that. Let me get at it. I’d bet they require your driver’s license number and your car tags.” I heard his fingers flying over the keys at a million miles an hour, so we ended the call.
“He’ll get back to us. Let’s go cruise the parking lots of the casinos to see if we can find Crow’s shitty Honda.”
We paid our tab and made our way out to my truck. I wanted to find this fucker and get the hell back to Vegas. There was another man I’d rather be hunting.
Sawyer—what’s going on? I’m watching reruns of Columbo and missing you a fuckton. Fitz
My text was lame, but Jagger was down in the gym with Leo and Digs, and I was lying on my queen-size bed watching reruns of an old detective show. The haphazard police detective was a clown, but he always got his man. Maybe I was hoping for inspiration?
I’m a cowboy, on a steel horse…It was Sawyer’s ringtone that I’d set after our second date. It made me grin.
“Hey there, cowboy.” I chuckled.
“Hey, babe. How’s it going? Any leads?” His voice was like sinking into a warm bath and since I happened to have a nice big bathtub in the room that I shared with Jagger… who was gone…
“Not really. We haven’t had a hit on his card anywhere else, but we’re trying a couple of things. How’s it going with Grandpa Middleton and TJ?” I was more worried about his sanity than my own case.
Sawyer sighed. “They’re with me at the compound. My parents are flying in for a visit in a few days. I’m trying to clean the house and figure out what to do with Mr. Middleton, long term. I really miss you, Fitz.”
“Are you in your bedroom?” God, I missed him, too.
“I am. Where are you?”
I turned on the water in the bathtub and dropped in the complimentary bath bomb. A relaxing soak sounded damn good as I regulated the water temperature.
“I’m running a hot bath. I’m in Lake Tahoe, and it’s cold. It’s supposed to snow tomorrow, and I’m not ready for it. How’s the weather in Vegas?” I put the phone on speaker and pulled off my socks, jeans, sweater, and undershirt, tossing them in the corner to shove back into my duffel.
“It’s in the sixties here today. Are you taking off your clothes?”
I chuckled. “Should I get into the bathtub fully dressed?”
“Never. So, you really do like a bath, huh?” Sawyer’s voice was deeper, and it turned me the fuck on.
My dick was pleasantly filling until he asked the question. It was as if blood rushed from my head to my groin in a heartbeat, making me dizzy.
“I enjoy a bath every now and then, but this tub is big enough for two. I’m a little lonely.” Was I taunting Sawyer? In the best possible way. That man had me on tenterhooks.
“God, Fitz. I can’t wait for you to come home. I want you to meet my folks.”
I sucked in a breath and my dick unfilled just as quickly at the idea of the scenario he was suggesting. Meeting the parents? Hell, I was nearly older than them, I was sure. “Do you want me to meet your parents or your club members? I’ve met a few of them.”
“Fitz, baby, calm down. Right now, I want you to take a deep breath. Meeting my parents isn’t the end of the world. I need my dad to meet with the club because of the robbery and all the shit that’s happened over the last few weeks. He can talk some sense into them before they do anything stupid. I, uh—I kinda told my dad that I’d met someone.” The nerves in his voice were easy to hear.
“Okay. Is something wr—?”