Page 39 of Dirty Rotten Scoundrel

“Doctor Graves,” I said, answering the call.

“Jack has some bad enemies.” It was my father. I knew it would be. “Tell him I caught a glimpse of a man named Jesse Tydell over in King George Proper. He’s a captain for the Vagos motorcycle gang. Lots of kills under his belt. Ex-military with an expert marksman rating. He won’t be here alone. You and Jack got lucky today. Maybe you need to disappear for a little while.”

“Dad—” It’s all I got to say before he disconnected. “Dammit.” I tossed the phone into my bag.

“Not enough time,” he said, disconnecting. “Maybe Carver can work some magic on your phone when we get back. What did your dad say?”

“That you need to be looking for a man named Jesse Tydell. He’s a captain for the Vagos.Dad saw him over in King George and he says he’s ex-military and an expert marksman.”

Jack got back on the phone and relayed the information to someone—I was guessing Greer.

“Your dad seems to have a lot of knowledge about this.”

“I think he’s worried about me. About you too.”

And the knowledge was playing havoc with my emotions. I’d spent the last two years building up my hatred for my parents, convincing myself that I’d have been better to never know them at all. That they were nothing more than liars and thieves, and probably killers. It had festered inside of me—the hatred—and it gave me something to hold on to as guilt and blame weighed down on my own shoulders.

I’d wondered more than once if I should have known or realized something was going on. It happened right under my nose. And a small part of me wondered if what the police had said was really true—that my parents had been having problems and driven over that cliff on purpose. I’d been ashamed almost more over that than the illegal activities, which made no sense at all. But them committing double suicide had shaken the very foundation of my world—my upbringing.

My parents had been a lot of things during my childhood—they’d worked too much, missing softball games and the occasional school play—but they’d provided me with security, an education, and I never went hungry. They didn’t provide love, but maybe it just wasn’t in them to do so. And it worried me that being unable to love was something I might suffer from when I had children of my own.

“He told us we need to get out of town. Lay low for awhile.”

“I’m starting to think maybe that’s not such a bad idea. At least for you.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” The squad car behind us stayed close and I saw another parked along the road next to the turn in to Jack’s house.

“Don’t be stubborn about this, Jaye.”

“Do you see this big ass ring that’s sitting on my finger? It means that my place is with you. Period. You’re not going to send me away so you can be shot at all alone. If that’s what you’re aiming for, then I’m more than of shooting at you.”

Jack snorted out a laugh. “I’m sure you would.”

He did a u-turn in the driveway and then backed into the garage so he was facing out. The garage was attached to the house and there was an entry door into the mudroom. He closed the garage door and we went inside.

Carver was in the kitchen making a sandwich. He was still FBI pressed and polished, but his hair was disheveled as if he’d been running his fingers through it over and over again.

“Oh, good. You’re back,” he said. “And alive. A team is being put together to check out the tip about Jesse Tydell and any known associates. If he’s here, we’ll run him to ground. How do the two of you feel about a trip to D.C.?”

“It depends. Are you trying to put us in a safe house?” Jack asked.

Carver’s lips twitched before he took a giant bite of sandwich. “I would if I didn’t know you’d cut my balls off with that knife you carry in your boot. But no, that’s not my objective.”

“I’m listening.”

“Eric and Karl Lieber’s parents are stateside. They were staying at their home in New York and we were able to subpoena them to come to D.C. to be reinterviewed. I thought you might like to be there.”

“Greer’s letting you take that?”

“Oh, yeah. We’re a team. Don’t you know the FBI motto?” The look on Carver’s face insinuated they were anything but. “But I actually agree with Greer on this one. It’ll help to get the two of you out of here while they’re running Jesse Tydell to ground. We don’t want him to get another shot at you.”

“I’dprefer him not get another shot at me either. I’m just surprised Greer is agreeing to let you take point with this.”

“Greer and I have come to an understanding. I’m here because you’re my friend and you asked me to be here. Though I’m pretty sure you didn’t ask me to come for this. Maybe we’ll get to that at some point, hmm?” He looked at me and I smiled innocently. I wasn’t sure I was ready to let anyone besides Jack see those boxes. “This isn’t my case. It’s Greer’s. And though I could take it from him if I wanted to, I don’t really want to. He’s doing a thorough job and he’s good at what he does. He’s not the one you have to worry about.”

“Lauren,” Jack said, nodding. “I had a feeling she was up to something.”

“She’s up to wanting you back. That much is obvious.”

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