Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(7)

“They’re not my girls.”

Rolling his eyes, Beckett pushed his basket away and snagged his beer. “Hookups. Stable. Whatever. You fuck. A lot. The way she reached out to you on that job with Natalie’s ex, it would explain a lot.” He leaned both elbows on the bar and grinned. “Might be you’ve got your own stalker.”

“JJ seem crazy to you?”

Levity disappearing in a heartbeat, Beckett aimed his gaze toward the bar, but it was distant. “Nope. Not even a little. Everyone I saw her with acted like she was a ray of sunshine. Real touchy feely, but not in a bad way. More caring than anything.”

The waitress dropped off two fresh beers and spun away without pausing long enough to see if they needed anything else.

“By the way,” Beckett said, “JJ’s taekwondo’s not bad for a beginner. Probably has another three to six months before she’d be solid enough to use the skills in a real-life situation, but she’s got a natural ability for it.”

“You watched her?”

“Fuck yeah, I watched her. So did every other being on two legs with a dick and a pulse. And that includes the old farts at the nursing home.”

The image he’d found of JJ in her apartment pinged in his head. It’d been taken at a distance, but even without the facial detail she’d seemed softer than in the state and federal pics. “I still think she’s hiding under this JJ person’s ID.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve got conflicting photos on the same social.”

“So? That shit happens all the time these days. You know that.”

“Between strangers, yeah. But I bet I could count on one hand the number of times it happens where the two people in question know each other.”

Beckett set his beer back on the bar and gave Knox his undivided attention. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Snagging his phone out of his back pocket, Knox thumbed up the photos he’d saved from his online searches, starting with the older version. “This is the Jeannie Simpson—aka JJ—I found on an outdated trade site.” He flipped to another picture. “This is the JJ Simpson on file with the state of Texas and the Feds.”

“Like I said. Not an uncommon mix up.”

Knox flipped to the picture he’d snapped this morning. “This is the photo I found in JJ’s apartment. I already dug deep for death records that might explain the mix up and came up with nada.”

“You think she killed the woman?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Just think it’s mighty damned fishy they knew each other and one of ’em isn’t showing up anywhere these days.”

For at least fifteen seconds, Beckett sat and turned his beer in a circle. He shook his head. “She’s not the type. Doesn’t feel right.”

“Might not feel right, but it looks pretty bad on the surface.”

“I’m tellin’ you, I didn’t get that read off her. She’s a volunteer at a fucking retirement home.”

“I explained that. Best place in the world to canvas for a new social security number.”

Beckett frowned. “You’re wrong on this one. Can’t give you any concrete evidence, but I’m willing to bet you’re diggin’ up the wrong tree.”

“Gotta start digging somewhere. I got nothing but old data and dead ends online.”

“Then take the meet she asked for.”

Damn it, he hated not having the upper hand. “I don’t like it. Maybe I need to take another pass and see what I can uncover on the older woman.”

“Fuckin’ A, brother.” Beck hung his head as though digging deep for patience, then pinned Knox with a serious stare. “She can’t weigh more than a buck twenty sopping wet and while she might outsmart one of us, not a chance in hell she can get past the collective brotherhood. You want a thread to follow? Then get up close and personal.” He leaned in for emphasis. “Take. The. Meet.”

More than anything, Knox wanted to fidget. To get up, pace the length of the bar and give his mind some unencumbered space to work. Better yet, he’d appreciate a high-octane LAN connection and a lot of uninterrupted time with his computer. Instead, he pulled up the picture he’d taken at JJ’s apartment and gave it another once over. “She’s something to look at, huh?”

Beckett chuckled and fisted his pint. “Good enough I’d be willin’ to bet you’re angling to have her fill up Tiffany’s spot inside of one face-to-face.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” He pulled out his wallet for money to cover the tab, the need to get back online and see if he’d missed any loose ends making him as itchy as an addict with the promise of a new high on the horizon. “Looker or not, I’m not crossin’ sex and work.”

“One grand,” Beckett said.

“One grand, what?” Why he even bothered acting dumb after all these years was beyond Knox. He knew exactly what Beck meant. After all, he’d been taking his brother’s bets even when they were ten. Although, back then they’d wager with stolen booze or cigarettes instead of cold hard cash. Still, luring Beckett in was half the fun.

Beckett tossed a twenty on the bar and spun to face Knox. “One G says you cross the line with JJ and you do it inside of a month.”