“Already done,” Morgan said.
“Bank accounts?” Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Empty,” I told him.
Thomas tapped his pen against the table and leaned back in the chair. “Can someone interview Fran and see what she knows about Johnny? She may think a detail isn’t important, but it might give us a lead.”
Morgan dragged his fingers down his face. “I’ll do it.”
“I got it,” I told him because his mom might not open up as much to him as she would to someone else…someone like me.
Everyone at the table turned to me with weird looks on their faces.
“What?”
“You want to do it?” Morgan stared at me with narrowed eyes.
“Well, yeah.” I shrugged.
“Why?”
“She may not tell you everything you need to know. Parents don’t like to be as open with their kids as they would be with a friend.”
He gawked at me. “You’re my mom’s friend?”
I hid my snarl and talked to cover up my annoyance. “I’m your friend, asshole, and by extension, your mother’s too.”
“Fine,” Thomas interrupted before Morgan could say something else. “Bear will interview Fran.”
Morgan’s glare didn’t leave me as the meeting continued. I ignored the stink eye he gave me and listened to everything I could about Johnny. He was a slippery motherfucker. He hid in plain sight, underneath our noses, and we were never the wiser. I knew every man around this table felt like me—a complete fool.
“Where’s the last place he used his credit card?” Frisco asked, making a new bullet point on his fancy legal pad.
Kids. They wrote stupid shit down or put it in their notes in their fancy-ass cell phones. I only wrote down the most important information.
I was old-school and used my memory with most shit. I didn’t have time to flip through pages when I was working a case or trying to track someone down. I swear technology had dumbed them down about ten pegs in the evolutionary chain.
“Yesterday just outside of Gainesville,” Sam answered.
“Morgan?” James called out.
I glanced out of the corner of my eye and realized he was still staring at me. “Morgan,” I said, finally turning to look at him with a serious face.
“What?” Morgan replied, his eyes growing narrower.
“Are you listening or giving Bear the evil eye over there?” James laughed, and I couldn’t help but join in.
Morgan’s face didn’t change. “I think someone else should interview my mom.”
Thomas cleared his throat before speaking. “It’s already decided. Bear will do it.”
“Come on, kid,” I said with a smile on my face. “I promise to be a complete gentleman. You’re like family to me.”
His upper lip snarled, and I was about to say “Down, boy” when his face finally softened a bit. “Fine, Bear. I’m trusting you with this.”
I nodded, and guilt gnawed at me because I did want Fran. I’d always pictured her naked underneath that tracksuit. She was an enigma to me. I could tell she had a smokin’ body, but for some reason, she wanted to hide it like she was a Golden Girl. I didn’t know what happened to some women when they matured; they felt the need to hide what they had when they should have been showing it to the world.
“Bear, can you meet with her tonight?” James asked.
“On it,” I said as I nodded, trying to hide my excitement. “Let me go call her now.” I stood and excused myself, feeling Morgan’s eyes on me as I walked out of the room and closed the door quietly.
Instead of calling her from my cell phone, I decided to use the office line so it was more official. I sat for a moment and collected my thoughts before I dialed her number that I had scribbled on a tiny scrap of paper I’d hidden underneath my desk calendar.
It rang twice before Fran picked up. “Hello.”
“Hey, Fran.” I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling nervous. “It’s Bear.”
“Hey, hot stuff.” Her voice was cheerful under the circumstances. “I thought you were Morgan.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart.”
She giggled softly. “You’re never a disappointment, Bear.”
“I wanted to know if we could sit down tonight and talk about Johnny.”
“That fucker. I have a lot to say. Come by tonight, and I’ll cook you dinner.”
“Franny, you don’t have to do that. It’s too much work. Why don’t you meet me at the bar for a drink?”
“Nope,” she said quickly. “I feel like cooking. It keeps my mind busy. Be here at six.”
She hung up the phone before I could answer, and I was left staring at the phone, shocked. It’d been ages since anyone had cooked me a meal. I couldn’t show up empty-handed. I know the guys thought I was an animal, but there was a time when I had manners.
I stalked back into the room, keeping my eyes down and away from Morgan as I took my seat. The guys were talking more about Johnny and where his next move would be. There was very little we knew about the man, but I figured in the next twenty-four hours we’d have a clearer picture of who the pissant really was.
“Did you get in touch with Aunt Fran?” Thomas asked from the head of the table.
Fuck. Franny was related to almost everyone at the table and so far off-limits that I might as well not even have a dick. To put a beautiful morsel like that in front of me, dangling her like a piece of meat, and not to allow me to touch her was just plain cruel. “Yeah. I’m meeting her at six to talk about Johnny.”
Morgan’s eyebrow rose. “At the bar?”
“No.” I shook my head while I crossed my arms. “She wanted me to come to her place.”
“Uh-huh. Maybe I’ll drop by.” Morgan mimicked me and crossed his arms.
I turned to face him. “Let’s get one thing straight, kid. Your mom isn’t going to want to talk in front of you. Keep your ass away.”
He leaned forward and invaded my space. “Why wouldn’t she talk in front of me? She tells me everything.”
“Has she called you to tell you everything she knows?”
His lips twisted. “No.”
“That’s my point. She’s embarrassed she didn’t realize he was a lying scumbag. Let me talk with Fran. She’ll be more comfortable.”
He exhaled loudly before leaning back in his chair. “Fine. Don’t get too comfortable.”
“Oh, shut up already. We’ve known each other for years. Have a little trust, will ya?”
“That’s the problem, Bear. I know too much about you.”
He did too. He’d been around for far too many escapades and antics than I’d like to admit. But he didn’t know the real me. No one did. I shut him away a long time ago, putting up a steel fortress around my heart to protect myself. They all saw the wild, careless me but not the real man underneath.
I paid his comment no attention and turned back to the conversation at hand. “Let’s go over the information one more time so it’s fresh in my head.”
After another rundown of the information we had on Johnny, the conference room started to look more like a war room. Phones were ringing off the hook, people were jotting down notes, and we used the whiteboard to draw connections to important leads we needed to follow up on to catch the thieving bastard.
By the time I walked out of the office, I had just enough time to head to the little Italian bakery to grab some dessert. Fran probably worked her ass off on the meal, and it was the least I could do—plus, I wanted to make her smile.
3
Bear
I pushed the empty plate away and rubbed my belly. “That was so damn good, Franny. I don’t remember the last time I had a meal this great.”
She beamed at me with the biggest smile. I couldn’t recall when I’d seen her so happy. “I like spoiling you.” The woman could cook like any of those fancy-ass chefs on the television. She didn’t just make a dinner, she made an entire meal. Course after course, she carried out of the kitchen, dishing it out onto my plate before I could protest.
“Spoil me anytime, babe.” I caught myself and didn’t say anything else because I was already verging on flirting, and Morgan would have my balls.
“Cooking relaxes me, but you know I’m really no good at it. Right? I mean, I’m no Maria.”
“Well, you must really be stressed.” I glanced around the table filled with dish after dish of different foods. “As for being a good cook, I don’t remember the last home-cooked meal I ate, so it tasted delicious.”
She burst into a fit of laughter. “No one likes my cooking, not even Morgan. Want a drink?” She stood quickly and headed to the tiny cabinet against the wall. “I need something strong to get through this.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling guilty about putting her out. “We could do this another time.”
“Sit down,” she commanded me without a thought. “I want you here. I need to talk about it. Alcohol helps. Want one or not?” Her bossiness was definitely a turn-on.
“Yeah, I’ll take gin and tonic.”
Her dark, shoulder-length hair parted as she reached into the cabinet and grabbed three bottles. The tiniest patch of exposed skin on the back of her neck peeked out, and my cock started to stir. Off-limits, Cujo. Don’t even think about it.