Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(165)

“My boys understand there’s no collateral damage. They’ll have briefed Seth. Jasper would have found another way to steer her clear if he thought Seth wasn’t into her. That means Seth is into her.”

“He better be,” Ryker returned.

“Relax, brother, he is.”

Ryker glared at him some more. Then he nodded.

Then Layne said, “You got just about enough time to get a coffee from Mimi before Colt gets here.”

“Don’t drink that fancy-ass shit,” Ryker stated.

Layne took another sip.

“You’re missin’ out,” he muttered after his sip.

Ryker looked at Blondie. “Fuck me, bro, a badass who drinks sissy coffee and owns a yellow lab.” His eyes came back to Layne, his attitude shut down and he grinned his ugly grin. “Gotta say, impressed you could pull that off.”

Layne put his cup down and pulled his phone out of his pocket, suggesting, “Maybe you should get Alexis a puppy.”

Ryker sat back and stretched his legs out in front of him, still grinning, the showdown was over, Layne was again his bud and Layne relaxed in his chair.

“They already got three cats and two hamsters. Don’t need no dog,” Ryker told him.

Layne flipped his phone open, scrolled down to Devin, hit go and looked at Ryker, muttering, “Your call.”

“What?” Devin answered in his ear.

“Give me Marissa Gibbon’s cell number,” Layne replied.

“Why?” Devin barked.

“Just do it, old man, I’ll brief you later,” Layne told him.

Devin sighed then gave him the number that Layne wrote down on a legal pad on his desk.

“Boys are with Gabby for the week and I’m at Roc’s the next two nights,” Layne told his friend.

“I’ll inform the President,” Devin replied then disconnected.

Layne grinned at his desk then punched Marissa Gibbon’s number in his phone.

“Marissa Gibbons?” Ryker asked as Layne’s thumb hit the buttons.

“I’ll tell you later,” Layne murmured and put his phone to his ear.

* * * * *

“This is the last time we meet,” Layne said to Colt who was sitting by Ryker in his office, his fingers toying with the flash drive with Gaines’s pictures that Layne gave him. “If they haven’t already, Rutledge, Gaines and the woman are gonna start bein’ more vigilant and they don’t need to see you comin’ and goin’ from my office.”

Colt nodded and leaned forward. “Copy that but I gotta know, man, why am I here and Merry isn’t?”

“Merry and I got family issues,” Layne answered, Colt’s brows went up and Layne felt Ryker’s gaze grow intense.

“Rocky?” Colt asked.

“Yep,” Layne answered.

“Somethin’ I can do?” Colt offered.

“Can you pry Merry or Dave’s heads outta their asses?”

Colt smiled. “Probably not.”

“Then no, there’s nothin’ you can do,” Layne answered.

Colt leaned back but kept Layne’s gaze. “We’re goin’ hard means you’re swingin’ your ass back out there again.”

“Had the head’s up to beat all head’s up on that, brother, this time, also got backup,” Layne replied, jerking his head to Ryker.

Colt didn’t even look at Ryker. Colt was undecided about how he felt about Ryker.

Therefore he said, “Stay sharp.”

Then he stood, glanced through Ryker and walked out the door.

Layne stood too, picking his keys up from the desk, he walked to his storage room, Blondie following him.

“You think he’s gonna be able to keep his shit quiet?” Ryker asked Layne’s back as Layne unlocked the storage room door.

“You live in this ‘burg,” Layne said by way of response.

Ryker didn’t like that response and told him. “Was that an answer?”

Layne opened the door and turned to Ryker. “This is a small town but shit goes down in a small town just like in the big cities. It might not be as relentless, but people steal, people deal, people rape, people beat their wives and kids. Colt and his woman caught the attention of a sick f**k who obsessed on both of them since high school and ended up hackin’ through people in four states. He took that guy down and saved three lives. He knows his shit. I think he can keep our investigation of a dirty cop quiet.”

Ryker nodded.

Layne walked into the storage closet, turned on the light and started sorting through his collection of bugs while Blondie sniffed the corners.

* * * * *

“Have you seen this f**kin’ guy?” Devin asked in his ear.

Layne was standing outside Conesco Fieldhouse in Indianapolis, his dog sitting next to him, breathing heavy, her tongue hanging out, her nose pointing in the direction of anyone who walked by. He was leaning against his truck which was parked three cars down from a yellow Corvette.

“You can trust him,” Layne told Devin, referring to Ryker.

Layne had talked to Ryker and given him the equipment. Then he’d called Devin and briefed him about what he was going to be doing that day. He had not, however, shared much about who he was doing it with.

“This is a delicate operation and this guy is a f**kin’ bull, as big as one and I bet he snorts like one too. He has no idea what he’s doin’. And, I’ll repeat, he’s a f**kin’ bull. I’d rather go in alone than go in with this guy takin’ my back,” Dev replied.