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Alina gaped at them, then she backed up. Lane had locked Memphis in a freezer?
“Fabulous.” Memphis threw his hands into the air. “Now you’ve scared her. Saying scary things is not the way to reassure victims. Write that down in a notebook somewhere, would you?”
“Considering the mess going on in her life, she should probably be scared,” Lane retorted. He did not pull out a notebook.
The bedroom door flew open. “Oliver Foxx never spoke with Ryker Bellamy. He never told her father to hire me.” Midas stormed forward to join them.
“Told him this already,” Lane noted with a roll of one shoulder. “But what’s new? People don’t believe me. Always got to find extra proof.”
“Someone is playing with us. I don’t like being anyone’s toy.”
She was trying to follow along. Truly. But… “Who told my dad to hire you?”
His nostrils flared.
“I think,” Lane announced, voice considering, “that might be the million-dollar question.”
Midas stopped at Alina’s side. “We need to talk with Kiera Thatch, now.”
“Yep, figured that would be on your to-do list.” Memphis rocked back on his heels. “I’m also figuring that as soon as she sees the news stories about Alina, Kiera will be in the mood to chat with you two. So, I’ll give you her address and you guys can hit the road.” He smiled. “Am I a man with a plan or what?”
“Or what,” Midas threw back.
Memphis’s smile dimmed. “While you’re chatting with Kiera, I’ll be talking to Maureen O’Sullivan’s brother. The man is grieving his heart out, and I know he wants justice. Maybe he can give me more intel.”
Lane frowned at Memphis.
And Midas nodded. “Done. Let’s get this investigation moving, now.” Anger roughed his words. “Someone is dicking around with us. And no one plays with me.”
***
“Texted you the address,” Memphis said as he exited the house. Lane stood near the waiting SUV. Memphis lingered with Midas on the wraparound porch. “Like I told you before, I have eyes on Kiera. I’m worried she might get spooked when she first sees the news stories. If she runs, I’ll have her tailed.”
“I appreciate the help,” Midas replied.
Memphis slapped him on the shoulder. “Did that hurt to say? Sounded a little bit choked coming out. Maybe you want to try it again? Louder and with more feeling?”
He didn’t say another word.
“Well, then how about I say something?” The slap on the shoulder changed. Memphis curled his fingers around Midas’s shoulder and hauled him closer. “Keep your dick in your pants, man.”
Midas glared at him. “Don’t be concerned about my dick.”
“Yeah, you wish. I’m warning you as someone who has been in your shoes—you are about to fuck up.”
“You have never been in my shoes.” Not even close.
“You want her.”
Midas didn’t blink. But, want seemed far too tame a word. Maybe crave would work better?
“I read body language. A little hobby I picked up over the years. I can also tell when a woman was just in the middle of a serious make-out session. You left a hickey on Alina’s neck, and her mouth was still swollen from yours.”
“Watch it.” Dammit, he had left a mark on her neck. He’d have to be more careful.
“No, you watch it. Take my advice. Keep your hands to yourself and your dick in your jeans.”
Midas shook his head. “There you go again, worrying about my dick.”
