“Christ.” I should’ve killed Stone when I had a chance. Two nights ago played in my mind. “When Carter came after Siren, he kept sayin’ he was already dead.”
“He knew Maldonado’s men would come after him.”
I rubbed my hands over my eyes. “But he didn’t care. He thought he was getting his daughter back.” The pieces fell together. “He was coming after Siren to tell her what he’d done.”
“He traded his life for hers,” André said solemnly.
Siren walked into the room. Deep circles under her eyes, her face drawn, she looked vulnerable as hell. All I wanted to do was pull her into my arms but we needed any information she could give us.
I cut straight to the chase. “Did Randy say anything else to you that night?”
She held her splinted wrist to her chest. “He was trying to but I couldn’t understand.”
I pushed out the chair next to me. When she sat, I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. She smelled like sex and jasmine and woman and I wanted to pick her up and walk out of this fucking house and out of both of our lives. “Can you remember any of the words?”
“He said tradeoff and get and…” She swallowed and shook her head.
I gently took her good hand and held it in both of mine. “And what, darlin’? We need to know.”
She bit her lip then released it. “Maddie Bear. It was his nickname for her.”
My cell rang. “You’re doin’ great, Siren.” I ran the back of my fingers across her cheek before answering my phone.
“I got something,” Candle growled. “But I don’t know how promising it is.”
My heart rate kicked up. “What is it?”
“One of the old ladies is here cleaning up. She thinks a club whore took off last year to Kentucky after she got beat up pretty bad. Thinks the bitch had family there.”
Adrenaline started pumping through my veins. “What was her name?”
“Not sure. The guys called her Lassie because she had red hair but a brother who works in my shop thinks her name may have been Poppy Summer, or some hippy shit like that.”
I motioned to André for a pen. He tossed one at me and a section of newspaper to write on. “Did she work? Anyone know where she lived?” I wrote down her name and showed André. He nodded and got on his laptop.
“She might’ve stayed at the apartment complex with a couple of the other club whores. Rumor had it she was a masseuse. Not the rub your dick kind but the real kind, like at a fancy spa.”
I wrote down licensed masseuse and showed André. “Anythin’ else?”
“No. How’s Kendall?”
“Mouthy.”
Candle didn’t laugh. “If I wind up dead over this information, take care of her.”
“I’m done with this secretive bullshit. Who is she?”
He sighed. “The worst mistake I ever made.” He hung up.
I focused on Siren. “Did the woman with Stone have red hair?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
I turned to André. “It’s her.”
André typed lightning fast. “I’m getting nothing.”
“Try a few variations on spellin’.”
“Already on it. What are we going to do with the women when we roll out?”
“Siren’s coming with us. Kendall can stay here.”
Roark broke his silence. “The guard at the gatehouse is useless and you’ve got wide-open access points from the water and the main road. You’d need a whole team to secure this place.”
He was right. “Neil?”
“Ja?” He looked up from his phone.
“What about your place in the Keys?”
“Same problem,” he answered me in Danish. “Take her to Luna’s penthouse.”
I looked at André. Despite him flirting with Kendall earlier, he was frowning and shaking his head. “No.”
“It’s just until we get back.”
André gave me the no-fucking-way look. “You know the drill.”
Yeah, I did. He was religious about keeping his place off the radar and off-limits. No family, no chicks, no visitors. I’d only been there because I’d helped him install his own alarm system, which he monitored himself. “We can’t put her in a hotel. She’ll piss her way through the place. Every staff member will know her inside an hour. Ten minutes after that, Maldonado’s people will have her. Everyone thinks she’s Candle’s old lady.”
Neil pushed his chair back and stood. “Drop her in Ocala with Graham.”
“Candle suggested him before but I thought the band was on tour.”