Page 34 of Weston’s Treasure

“That’s our assumption, he definitely runs a crew. But we’re not ruling him out as being higher on the food chain. Lieutenant’s a possibility but there’s no way he’s the leader.”

“Why’s that?” I blurted out, and when everyone’s eyes came to mine I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

“Because Jason Scott is careless. He runs his crew sloppy. He makes calls on his cell to his soldiers. He travels to his drops using the same route every time. A man running a multi-million dollar drug ring isn’t stupid and he sure as fuck isn’t careless,” Alec told me. “We’ve tagged every man in his crew. Something new we found was one of the men was talking to Avon Chapman. Avon’s been on our radar because of his connection to Jason.”

I knew that name, Avon Chapman, I just couldn’t remember where I’d heard it.

“Why do I know that name?” I asked.

“Because he’s on the news regularly. He’s part of a community revitalization project for the Inner Harbor.”

Holy shit, Alec was right. That’s where I’d seen the man. I didn’t watch TV regularly and avoided the news when I was home, but it was on nonstop when I was on shift. It drove me crazy, but since everyone else liked to watch it I kept quiet.

“So this is…”

“Bigger than we thought?” Alec interrupted me. “Yeah, it is. We got community leaders wrapped up with known drug dealers. Which means shit has gotten complicated. DHS is trying to keep this under wraps. The second the Baltimore mayor gets word, we’re all fucked. The DEA will be brought in and the mayor will want city police and the drug task force brought in, too. There will be so many hands in my operation it will be fucked. So that brings us to you.”

“To me?”

“Someone was looking for something when they trashed your apartment and car—”

“My car?”

“Fuck,” Weston clipped and my gaze went to him.

This just kept getting better and better. A bad stench that lingered in the air, and no matter how many windows you opened it just wouldn’t go away. If my car looked like my apartment I was officially shit out of luck. I had decent savings, money I’d stashed away for a rainy day, some retirement accounts I could draw from, though I’d take a huge hit withdrawing money early. I could slowly replace my furniture and not have to touch my retirement. But I couldn’t do that and buy a new car.

I wondered if my insurance would cover an act of vandalism due to drug dealers ransacking my vehicle looking for something that wasn’t there.

Fuck me sideways.

“Babe.” Weston’s single word filled my ears and I closed my eyes.

It wasn’t what he’d said, it was the tone in which he’d said it. Caring, gentle, tender. I couldn’t deal with him being sweet.

Not now. And probably not tomorrow either.

California sounded good—maybe I’d pack up and move and get away from all of this.

13

Weston watched Silver’s face crumble and he wanted to kick Alec’s ass for blurting out that her car was fucked, then his own for not warning her.

He had no excuse, there’d been time after he kissed her but before they’d gone to sleep. He’d had time after Nix had texted to tell her that the meeting had been changed to the house instead of the office.

Instead, he’d found the time to ask her more about growing up on a boat and answer her questions about his Navy basic training. There had been plenty of opportunities, none of which he’d taken because he’d wanted her relaxed.

It was a little bit selfish but in the end, he’d made the decision not to tell her. He told himself he was trying to protect her, and he was, but more than that he liked the way she was cuddled to his side. Stress-free and compliant.

He was an ass and now Silver had been blindsided.

“Your car isn’t bad,” Weston told her.

Hurt flashed before she asked, “You knew?”

“I did,” he confirmed. “Holden told me last night.”

She nodded. Then as if remembering last night’s activities in the kitchen and the fact he’d come back upstairs with her clothes in hand, her eyes widened and her cheeks pinked. She knew Chasin and Holden had seen the clothes.