Lost and Found (Masters & Mercenaries: The Forgotten #2)(10)

Robert sighed and rolled his eyes. “Sure, boss. We’ll do that.”

Big Tag frowned. “You’re no fun.”

He’d learned how to handle Taggart. He gave the boss a smile he didn’t truly feel. “Robert wishes he could get into all this. And might I add, as husbands go, Robert makes a handsome one.”

Robert’s lips quirked up slightly. “Thank you, Owen. I agree. I think we’ll be a lovely couple.”

Big Tag’s laughter boomed as he stood up. “Well played, gentlemen. Don’t ever tell Adam though. Guy’s known me most of his life and still can’t resist taking the bait. I’m going to get home. I feel the sudden need to prank his ass. I’ll figure out something. You’re dismissed. I need to talk to Fain before I leave. Ariel, if you’ll join us in the office, I would appreciate it. Don’t fuck up, boys.”

The words weren’t for him. They were meant for Robert and the rest of them. He couldn’t fuck up. His only job was to back up the better operatives. As long as he stayed awake when he was supposed to, he could do his part.

How long before he could open the bottle of whiskey he had back in his motel room? Five o’clock? Would four be too soon? He’d gotten good at looking perfectly sober even when he damn well wasn’t.

He knew he should stop, but he didn’t dream when he drank himself to sleep.

How had he known about the blue of the Caribbean? It struck him suddenly that he hadn’t read about it. When he’d thought about Ezra’s eyes, he’d seen that blue in his head, had known he could see his feet, practically felt the heat of the sun and heard the surf.

He’d been to England, Dallas, Colorado, DC, and now Toronto. None of those places had a warm beach. The closest he’d gotten to a beach was his screensaver.

“You okay?” Robert was standing in front of him. The rest of the group was starting to shuffle out with the exception of Sasha, who was still sleeping.

He shook his head. It must have been from a dream. Sometimes he dreamed he’d gone places he hadn’t. Typically the dreams ended with some form of brutality, some terrible death that turned out to be his fault. “I’m fine. I’ve got the movers ready for tomorrow. Nina helped decorate. She picked stuff out of a catalog. Turns out I’m crap at it.”

Nina shrugged. “You’ve got a guy’s guy taste, meaning none whatsoever. He was way more interested in a big telly than anything else. And he was planning on skipping the couch and buying two loungers.”

Robert stared at her. “And that’s bad, why? I don’t get the point of decorative pillows.”

“No one is ever going to buy that you’re a couple if the place looks like a frat house,” she pointed out. “And I know perfectly well that gay couples can have bad taste, too, but it’s rare that both men in a couple are clueless. Trust me. I’ve done right by you both. I don’t suspect Becca will care about your furnishings, but she is very observant when she wants to be. Don’t forget that.”

“You’ve spent time with her?” He couldn’t help but look back at the wall. Her picture was still there. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t not look at her. Perhaps it was mere curiosity. Her life was so different from what he knew of his own.

Or maybe it was the fact that there was something in her eyes, something that threatened to pull him in.

He was glad now that they’d changed the picture. He could handle this Rebecca Walsh better than he had the glowy, smiling one.

“I’ve talked to her, but it’s busy in the mornings,” Nina said with a thoughtful look on her face. “I’m working the later shift a few times this week. She stops in after work and usually picks up dinner at eight p.m. She calls it in at seven thirty and walks over before she heads up to her place. That’s when you’ll have your best shot at running into her. I’ve got to warn you though, from Ariel’s profile she’s standoffish with men. I think it’s a smart idea to go the friendly route.”

Because the other route would have been the romantic one. “If she’s not friendly, I’m not sure how Robert’s supposed to work his way in.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t friendly. She’s quite nice.” Nina gestured to the tablet on the table. “Read Ariel’s report. She’s got some ideas about how to get close to the target. I think she’s obsessed with her research, but she’s not cold. She seems worried about something to me.”

“Do you think she’s capable of working with Dr. McDonald?” Tucker leaned against the desk.

“He means work with her knowing what she was doing.” Jax had slid his phone into his pocket. “Do you think Dr. Walsh would have helped McDonald torture us?”

Nina seemed to think about it for a moment. “Dr. Walsh is consumed with her work, and Ariel and I believe she’s motivated by losing her mother as a young woman. From what we’ve dug up, it’s obvious to both of us that she’s trying to find a cure because she watched her mother die. I don’t think she would actively harm someone, but if the damage had been done, she would likely use the research. She would justify it by thinking the pain and suffering could bring about something good.”

“The ends justify the means,” he murmured. Unfortunately, in this case, he’d been the means. His life, his health, his past—those had been the currency that bought the research.