Page 24 of Weston’s Treasure

“Either of you got anything else?” Weston asked.

“Just point to the place I should avoid,” Chasin continued.

Weston didn’t rise to the bait and confirm what his teammates knew.

“No? So I’ll be on a treasure hunt for the—”

“I wouldn’t go there,” Weston growled and Chasin chuckled.

“Right. I’ll just eat out… I mean, get takeout for the next few weeks and use the table. That is, if it’s safe.”

Fucker.

Done with the conversation, Weston moved it along to something important.

“Did you get Silver’s shit from the boatyard?” Weston asked Holden.

“Her car was broken into. Thankfully it doesn’t look like her apartment, but someone was on a mission to find something. I have her bag and unless she just throws wrinkled clothes in there, someone’s been through that, too. Her wallet and other girly shit is still in her purse, but she’ll have to go through it to see if anything is missing.”

“Shit.”

What the hell were they looking for and who in the fuck were they? During one of the meetings with Homeland, Silver was very clear she hadn’t written anything down or taken any pictures. But the drug smugglers wouldn’t know that—neither would the inside man working with them.

“Did Matt or Rodger give you anything?”

“I told them I was Silver’s man and there to pick up her stuff,” Holden explained, and for some ridiculous and unexplainable reason, Weston hated that Holden had lied and said he was her man. She didn’t belong to his teammate and hearing it filled him with resentment. “They seemed more shocked she had someone in her life than they did hearing she was in the hospital with some unknown ailment. If either of them is worried she has something, neither showed it. They’d called in a man named Gary to take over Silver’s rotation and he seemed concerned about her illness, but his concern was if it was contagious because he has a newborn at home. Just so Silver knows, she has a kidney infection. A bad one, don’t know how long a hospital stay is for one of those or what the recovery time is, but the dude was relentless, wanted to call the hospital, scared to shit his kid would catch something.”

“Don’t know either, but Silver’s kidney infection just became a seriously bad one that will require a long recuperation time. And her apartment?” Weston glanced over to Chasin.

“Total loss.”

“Saw that, brother. Find anything?”

“Spent hours sifting through the rubble. The only thing I got from my efforts is to tell you, your woman has a seriously sexy underwear collection.”

A growl slipped out, giving away more than Weston had intended, and both men smiled at his outburst.

“Chill the hell out, it’s not like I pocketed a pair to—”

“Swear to Christ, I’m gonna beat the hell out of you if you finish that.”

“Too fuckin’ easy.” Chasin chuckled. “Nothing there, no prints on the doors, the cabinet doors, bathroom, nowhere. The place was clean other than all the broken shit. One thing I found interesting is, whoever was in there was thorough. Every cushion was cut open, mattress, cereal boxes emptied, even dumped the tampons.”

“Saw that,” Weston confirmed. “They knew what they were doing, and they knew they had the time to do it, which meant they knew Silver was on the Dora B so they put that time to good use.”

“We need to ask her if there’s something else someone could be looking for,” Holden said.

“Like what?”

“Anything. Maybe she stumbled onto something else. I know dealers will go to great lengths to protect their shipments, ‘specially ones as large as what they’re hauling through the canal, but it won’t hurt to ask if she’s noticed anything else going down.”

Weston was doubtful, but it never hurt to investigate all avenues. And on that note, Weston remembered he had a beautiful woman in his bed he’d like to get back to exploring—every sound, every curve, every taste. Weston wanted to learn everything he could and standing around talking, albeit about important shit, wasn’t cutting it.

“We’ll brief in the morning,” Weston offered.

“Right.” Holden laughed, but wisely kept the rest of his comments to himself.

“Weston,” Chasin called.