“Trey found him.”
She sits up, clutching the sheet to her chest. “He’s sure?”
I close the distance to the bed and sit beside her. “T’s fucking good. It took him a while, but now we know why.”
Her head weaves back and forth, as if searching my eyes for answers. “Why?”
“We were right. He’s a ghost too. Supposedly died in a ravine ten years ago. Pinned it on the cartel. Chances are he’s been running this entire time, just in case. It’s one of the more common reasons people call us in, so it’s not a big shocker to find out the cartel is tied to why he’s hiding.”
Magnolia’s brain is working. “The cartel wants him dead ... Can we use that? Let them know where he is? They can take him out.”
It’s an idea I haven’t had a chance to contemplate, but it’s a solid one. Although, it’s dangerous as fuck to get involved with any cartel, whether or not it benefits them.
I squeeze her leg beneath the sheets. “It’s worth considering. Trey’s grabbing his laptop, and he’ll be back in a few. He’ll show us everything.”
She wastes no time, and begins untangling her limbs from the linens. “I’m getting up. I’ll be ready.”
“Sounds good, mama.” Before she gets too far, I lean over to take her lips with a kiss. “And thank you for last night.”
She pulls back to meet my gaze. “Not sure you need to be thanking me when it was a joint effort, but I appreciate the gratitude.”
“You gave me a gift, and that’s what I’m thanking you for.” There’s still a questioning expression on her face, so I clarify further. “Our future. That’s all I can see now. You and me and a family. It’s a beautiful picture, and I can’t fucking wait for all of it.”
She snags my hand and threads her fingers through it. “Yeah. It is, isn’t it?” She wags her eyebrows, and finally some of the fiery Magnolia I adore sparks back to life. “Now, let’s put this cock-sucking asshole in the ground so we can make it all happen before we need geriatric care.”
I kiss her firmly again. “Get up and get dressed. It’s time to end this.”
Twenty-One
Magnolia
Moses leaves the room as I roll the rest of the way out of bed. I’m nearly to the bathroom when my phone vibrates with a call. I backtrack and pick it up, thinking it’ll be a call from Taylor, checking in to let me know how it’s going at the beach.
But it’s not.
It’s from an unknown number.
I almost let the call go to voice mail, but something stops me, so I tap the screen to answer it. “Hello?”
“Ms. Maison?”
“Who’s this?” My tone isn’t exactly friendly because I have no idea who the hell is calling me on an unknown number or how he knows my name.
“You’re a hard woman to track down, Ms. Maison. This is Detective Cavender of the NOPD. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you since yesterday.”
Fuck. Cavender.
I should have expected he’d be on the hunt for me from the moment Moses told me what happened to Desiree, but I had other things on my mind—like feeling guilty and terrified because whatever happened was so bad, even Moses wouldn’t speak on the horror he saw.
Taking a slow breath, I compose myself. I can handle this. Cavender doesn’t know shit. He just knows he has a body in a house that I’m currently selling ...
No, not currently. Iwasselling.
Desiree is gone now. A wave of emotion threatens to sweep me under, but I hold it together, fighting off the sorrow and anger and helplessness.
“Well, you’ve found me now. What can I do for you, Detective?” There’s a bite at the edge of my words, but I don’t care.
“I need you to come down to the station and answer some questions about a homicide,” he tells me.