“Too many places.” Natches shrugged, mirroring his own thoughts. “Sheriff Mayes is having the Rodeo impounded, though. He’s investigating the crime.”
Dawg grimaced.
“Uh-huh,” his cousin breathed out sharply. “My opinion of it as well.”
Dawg tightened his lips as he strode over to the fridge and jerked out two bottles of beer. After handing one to Natches, he twisted the cap off his own and took a long, fortifying drink.
“This is turning into a f**king mess,” he bit out. “How the hell did she manage to get herself mixed up in this?”
Natches twisted the cap off his own beer as he shook his head and paced over to the glass sliding doors.
“That’s not all I found out.” Natches turned back to him slowly, his gaze brooding, hooded.
“When Crista left here eight years ago, she didn’t just leave with Mark Lessing. Following them was Tyrell Grayson. Both men were once a part of Alex’s spec op team, though they were discharged a month or so before for medical reasons. They all moved into Lessing’s apartment on her arrival there, and she lived with them the whole time she was there. Rumor has it, both men were her lovers.”
TWELVE
Dawg froze at that information. He remembered Tyrell Grayson, though he had never met Mark Lessing. Tyrell had been a medic in the small Special Forces team Alex fought with at one time. Leanly muscled, blond-haired, and charming as hell.
“She had two lovers,” he said quietly.
“That’s the rumor.” Natches shrugged. “I called a friend of mine who lived in Virginia Beach, not too far from where she lived with the two men. He did a little poking around yesterday. Lessing comes from money, and his position in his father’s law firm obviously pays well. The penthouse apartment he still owns is supposed to be sweet. Lots of windows and space with a view of the beach. Lessing and Grayson still share the apartment, but a few of the neighbors say she broke their hearts when she left. My contact there believes differently. He talked to Lessing, posing as a potential employer who had heard about Crista’s references and her lack of a job. Both men sang her praises and seemed fairly upbeat about her move.”
She had two lovers. Two men. Ex–Special Forces. Hard men. And yet she had run from him and the fear that he wanted to share her with his cousins?
It didn’t make sense.
“Any rumors of drugs or illegal activities?” Dawg asked.
“She’s clean as a whistle there.” Natches shook his head.
“But she could have made the right contacts to learn about the missiles and possible movements, as well as those needed to sell them.” Dawg didn’t want to believe that. He could feel everything inside him rejecting the idea that Crista could have possibly been involved in that.
“Initial reports say no.” Natches shrugged. “Lessing and Grayson didn’t associate with the military or former friends. But my contact is checking into it further.”
Dawg felt his jaw tightening with fury.
“See what else you can find out,” he ordered harshly. “And while you’re at it, find out why she left town to begin with. Somehow, I doubt it had anything to do with avoiding a relationship with me.”
Why should it have? She hadn’t worried about moving in with two other men. Why run from him?
“What about the explosive device in that Rodeo, Dawg?” Natches said then. “We have the buyers and sellers, and not one of them has mentioned her name. Who struck at her, and why?”
Dawg shook his head. That question was still eating away at his brain.
“Whoever made away with the money set her up as well as the buyers and sellers for the missiles.
Whoever the woman was, she knew we’d be there. She knew how to get Crista there. Why would she want to kill her now? She obviously set Crista up. Why wait till now to get rid of her?”
“Are we certain we got all the players?” Natches asked. “The buyers could have had a man on the outside. That’s what I would have done.”
“Why try to kill her without trying to find the money first?” Dawg asked. “Better yet, what’s the point in killing her until they get the money?”
Natches stared back at Dawg silently, his expression still, calm.
“I’ll watch things from the Wet Dreams,” he finally said softly, referring to his own houseboat, the Nauti Wet Dreams. “The Rodeo, I think, was more of a warning. Otherwise, it would have gone up with the first turn of the key. Someone wants the money, and they’re warning her that they’re not letting it go.
We need to go to Cranston, pull him in on this. Show her picture to the players and see how they react.”
“I don’t trust Cranston that far,” Dawg muttered.
“You don’t trust anyone that far, but Cranston has a good grasp of how things work. We don’t tell him Crista was at the warehouse. We explain about the Rodeo, our suspicions that Crista might resemble the money-girl, and go from there.”
“And if they identify Crista?” Dawg asked dangerously. “Cranston could decide to go with what he can arrest and forget the rest.”
Natches shook his head. “He’s too good for that, Dawg. He’ll want to use it, and we can use the team this way. Let’s see how it works. What do we have to lose? We’re her alibi, remember? Who can fight it?”
The shower shut off upstairs. Dawg turned his head and gave the stairs a long, hard look.
“Talk to Cranston,” he said. “We’ll see where it goes.”
He was walking a damned tightrope, and he knew it. If the players arrested at the warehouse the other night identified Crista as their go-between, then all the suspicion would fall on Crista.
“Cranston’s smarter than to believe it would be this easy,” Natches assured him as he headed for the door. “I’ll head in first thing in the morning to talk to him. I’ll flash the pictures to our boys in the cells and see what we get. We could get lucky, and they won’t recognize her.”
Dawg grunted at that. “Don’t bet on it.”
He let Natches out of the houseboat and locked the door behind him before resetting the alarms and heading for the stairs.
Crista was up there. Showered, soft, and warm. And he hoped ready to give him the answers he needed. Because the thought of her living with one man had rage eating into his soul. Surprisingly, the thought of her living with two men, sharing in a relationship that his women had always shared with him and his cousins, was like an acid to his soul.