Golden Trail (The ‘Burg #3)(168)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“So,” Rocky said, drawing out the word, “we’re having dinner with them.”

“Wouldn’t kill us.”

“You like him,” she observed.

“He’s solid,” Layne replied.

“I liked her, she’s nice and it was kind of sad because she also seemed desperate which she shouldn’t have to be because, well… she was so nice.”

“Proves my point.”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“He wants her to have a decent life, baby,” Layne whispered back. “He’s not a man who shares much but what he says, she hasn’t had it too good and he wants her to have good.”

“He doesn’t scare me anymore.”

“He shouldn’t. Can’t say he’d lay down his life for you but you’re my woman and if anyone hurt you, he wouldn’t blink before huntin’ them down and breakin’ their neck just because he’s built a connection to me and that’s his kind of justice. And I’m not sayin’ that to say it, Roc, I mean he’d hunt them down and break their neck… literally.”

He could tell she was smiling when she said, “Now, I’m beginning to like him.”

Layne chuckled.

“Are you busy?” she asked.

“I’m always busy,” he answered.

“I’ll let you go.”

“What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Meat.”

“Just meat?”

“Yep, a smorgasbord of meat.”

“You’re full of shit,” he muttered through a smile.

“See you later,” she replied through a giggle.

“Later, sweetcheeks.”

He flipped his phone shut, looked at Devin and felt his neck muscles contract again when he caught the look on Devin’s face.

“What?” Layne asked when Devin didn’t speak.

Devin shook his head.

“What, old man?”

“Just thinkin’, thinkin’ about a man who’d walk out a door and never turn back. Thinkin’ about where he went, what he did and how it could never be worth losin’ what he left behind. Your father is a grade A, one hundred percent, jackass, boy, turnin’ his back and never knowin’ the man you would become.”

Layne didn’t speak, his throat was burning, his chest was frozen and that golden trail was searing through his system.

Then he found his voice. “You gonna kiss me?”

Devin rolled his eyes.

“A hug?” Layne suggested.

Devin’s eyes narrowed.

Layne stared into them. Then he said, “Thanks.”

Devin replied with, “Right.”

Moving on.

“I need you to get to Jeremy,” Layne stated.

“We need more time,” Dev surmised.

“We’ve run everyone in her crew and they own no property. Phone records show calls to her crew but she must use a disposable to talk to clients. She’s not leadin’ us anywhere. Merry interrogated Jeremy before we let him go and he doesn’t know shit about her operation outside his part in it. She compartmentalizes. Everyone has their job and only their job. Even if we picked one of them up and they rolled, they couldn’t give us anything. The location of the photo shoot was a day rental. Jeremy has been unable to find what she’s got on Rutledge. Merry’s chompin’ at the bit to put pressure on Rutledge and he’s stepped out. Confronted Rutledge about the missing person call for Giselle he didn’t report he took on his own and then didn’t follow procedure. Colt and Sully backed him up on that. All their asses are swinging out there now. Rutledge had a bullshit excuse and he’s full of bravado. Merry and Colt thought he’d run scared but he’s keepin’ his shit together. We’re not getting anything. We need time and we need Jeremy to dig, get her talking in the apartment and to do that, he’s gonna need a coach. That coach is you.”

“I’ll pick him up.”

“You gotta play that smart, Dev. We want him scared but we don’t want him to f**k up.”

“Don’t have to tell me that, boy.”

Layne nodded. “I wanna know who her clients are, who she has lined up for the party. We pull one of them in, they’ll probably roll over.”

“You think she’ll give that up to Jeremy?” Devin asked, his eyebrows up.

“No, but we gotta try.”

“Desperate times,” Devin muttered. “But even if we get one, the event hasn’t taken place nor is it goin’ to.”

“Nope, but we could use them for a set up. They could act impatient enough to want something, even if it isn’t fresh, and she’s got a stable of girls, she could give it to them. They could at least lead us to that.”

Devin nodded. Then he put his hands together in front of him in prayer position and pressed them against his lips as his eyes grew intense.

Layne knew what that meant.

“You’ve got a bad feeling,” Layne noted.

Dev dropped his hands. “You don’t?”

“I do.”

“In my gut, boy. This is gonna go south and not them slippin’ through our fingers. I can’t shake the thought that we’re missin’ somethin’.”

“Vigilance.”

“Yeah.”

They held each other’s eyes then Devin stood as the beep came and both men looked at the monitors to see Vera walking up the stairs.

Devin’s eyes came to Layne. “Like her a lot more, she’s not bein’ a bitch to Rocky.”

“Someone made me the man I am.”

Devin nodded his head but whispered, “True enough, to a point. Men like you aren’t made, though, Tanner. Men like you just are.” His eyes turned to the monitor as Vera nearly made the landing and he remarked, “But, gotta say, boy, your mother can f**kin’ cook.”

With that, he walked out of Layne’s office as the outside door opened and Vera walked in.

“Devin!” Layne heard her cry. “I’m glad I ran into you. Flo and Helen are coming over tonight. I’m making my beef and noodles. You’ll love it.”

Oh shit. Vera was matchmaking.

His Aunt Flo and Vera’s friend Helen were both single. And, unlike his mother, who got burned bad enough she never went there again, they were both on the market. His Aunt Flo had been married but Layne’s Uncle Gene died seven years ago. His mother’s friend Helen had been married as many times as Devin. Flo turned Dev’s eye, he’d think he’d died and gone to heaven, good food, lots of attention, a listening ear and no questions asked about his activities. Helen turned Dev’s eye, he’d be in a world of hurt because she was seriously high maintenance. Flo looked, acted and dressed like his mother, she was far from hard on the eyes, made an effort, had style, knew herself and was comfortable with who she was. Helen looked, acted and dressed like a woman who wanted attention and a lot of it. That said, she was a beautiful woman, even at the age of sixty-three.