Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(153)

“Yeah,” Layne said.

“Fantastic!” she cried then turned to Ryker and announced, “It was a pleasure to meet you,” she leaned in, grinned and said like she and Ryker shared an in-joke, “Ryker.”

Then she disappeared.

Layne looked to the monitors to watch his mother walk down the stairs as Ryker resumed his seat.

“Your Ma was a bitch to your babe?” Ryker asked and Layne’s eyes cut to him.

“Long story,” Layne mumbled.

“Bro,” Ryker grinned.

You understand my vision of justice, Ryker had said.

Layne stared at him but he didn’t spend much time doing it before he made a decision.

“You know TJ Gaines?” Layne asked.

“Who?” Ryker asked back.

“Youth Minister at the Christian Church,” Layne answered and the grin faded from Ryker’s face and Layne watched it go scary.

“Don’t know what that is,” Ryker said quietly, his voice lethal. “Just know that shit ain’t right.”

“Have you heard something?” Layne asked.

“Everyone in the ‘burg is whisperin’ about it,” Ryker responded. “No one likes it but no one’s got a handle on it.”

“Well, I’m lookin’ into it and now you are too.”

Ryker’s grin came back. “What you got?” he asked.

“Nothin’. Just an apartment at The Brendel. Don’t know if he lives there or if he visits someone there. Unit K. Apartment three. I need to know when I can get in so I need someone watching it. You need to get me intel on who the occupants are, how many there are, when they come, when they go and when I can get in to do a clean sweep. I don’t wanna toss the place. I need time to do it right but I gotta know when that time’ll be.”

“Brendel’s the ‘burg’s Fort Knox. Even pads on The Heritage don’t have that kind of security. And even if I manage to hang out and take notes which, bro, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m not exactly the kinda guy who fades into the woodwork, especially at a place like The Brendel, ain’t no way you’d get in.”

“They sensor the windows not the doors,” Layne replied.

“Hunh?”

“If they f**ked the security at Gaines’s place like they f**ked the security at Roc’s place, they sensored the windows on his balcony, not the doors.”

“Roc?”

“My woman.”

“Her name is Roc?” Ryker shook his head. “Bro, I got a good look at her and she don’t look like no rock to me. Nothin’ hard on her, all curves and soft.”

“Her name’s Raquel and, just a head’s up, maybe after I have a few beers and a game of pool, I might be okay with you talkin’ about my woman like that but…” Layne hesitated and gave him a look. “Wait, no, I’ll never be okay with you talkin’ about my woman like that,” Layne warned.

Ryker grinned again.

Layne lost patience.

“Are you in?” he demanded.

“Never done a stakeout.”

“Today’s your day,” Layne told him and his cell phone on the desk rang as Ryker replied, “I’m on it.”

Layne looked at the display to see it said, “Tripp calling”.

His brows drew together. Tripp should be at football practice.

He gave Ryker a one-minute finger, flipped the phone open and put it to his ear.

“Hey Pal, what’s up?”

“Dad,” Tripp whispered and Layne’s back went straight at his tone.

“Tripp, what’s up?”

“I told Coach Fullerton I had to use the john,” Tripp told him.

“You’re callin’ me to tell me –”

Tripp cut him off. “It’s Rocky, Dad.”

Layne stood instantly and walked to the monitor to switch it off, asking, “What’s Rocky?”

“She’d be mad,” Tripp said. “I didn’t know if I should tell you but I reckon I should tell you and this is the first chance I had to call.”

“Tripp,” Layne bit out.

Tripp started talking in a hurry. “I think she’s gonna do somethin’. I went to her classroom after school, you know, just to say ‘hi’ and ‘see you tonight’ but I didn’t go in because I heard her talkin’ to Mrs. Judd.”

Shit. His woman was a nut. This could be leading anywhere and with Raquel it was a crapshoot as the various degrees of bad it could be leading.

“What was she saying?” Layne asked, his eyes slicing through Ryker who was sitting, watching him, reading Layne’s tone and body language and therefore on alert. Layne walked to his desk, dumped the nine millimeter in the drawer, locked the desk and grabbed his jacket from the chair.

“I don’t know for sure,” Tripp answered. “But it sounded like they were makin’ plans to break into the management office at The Brendel for some reason.”

Shit! Where it was leading was bad considering it was felonious.

Layne cocked his head to hold his phone between ear and shoulder and swung his coat over an arm.

“You did good tellin’ me, Pal,” he told his son.

“You won’t tell Roc I snitched?” Tripp asked.