“Mrs. Windermere,” he greeted. “You’re looking lovely tonight.”
My heart thundered in my chest, but I managed to smile graciously. “Thank you for coming,” I forced out. “Can I get you a drink?”
I saw Jakari in my peripheral vision, watching us like he was on a stakeout or something.
“I’ll take a Heineken if you have it.”
“We have it. Actually, let’s have drinks in the study. Jakari and I wanted to talk business with you.”
A bushy grey eyebrow went up. “Sure.”
“Great.” Jakari walked up just then, and I left them alone to return to the kitchen.
I pulled a Heineken from the cooler and wiped off the moisture with a paper towel before moving through the living room and down the hall. When I entered the study, the two of them were already seated. Just like old friends.
I closed the door and handed Gray his drink, then I sat in the chair next to my husband.
Gray took a sip, eying us carefully. “So what’s this about?”
Jakari wasted no time. “We need the Adams crew out.”
“No, youwantthem out.”
“It’s the same thing to me.”
Gray smiled. “Why would I do that?”
“Because it’s good for business. They’re behind the shootings. I’m sure you could get word to your friends in the precinct.”
“Oh. Snitching, huh?”
Jakari chuckled. “Just doin’ business.”
“I’d love to help, but I’m not sure why I should.”
That was my cue. I smiled. “How’s Brett?”
His eyes widened into saucers. The Heineken bottle shook in his wrinkled hand. I’d caught him all the way off guard.
“I…” he looked at Jakari, then back to me, probably wondering if I told him. “He, uh, ahem, he’s fine. Getting married soon, actually.”
We knew that already.
“Good for him,” I said. “Marriage is such a wonderful institution.”
Gray swallowed hard.
“I haven’t seen Brett in…how long’s it been, Gray?”
He looked at Jakari, but there was no support over there. My husband smirked at him and waited to hear the answer.
“I’d have to say…seven years, maybe. I don’t know.”
The smile slowly melted off my face. “I think you do know.”
Gray blinked several times before setting his bottle on the floor beside his feet. When he straightened back up, his face looked like it was sagging. His whole countenance looked like depression.
We had his ass.