Page 102 of Playing With Love

He didn’t sound put off Dylan didn’t always use proper channels to get what we need, just informative. Also good to know he wasn’t a stick in the mud stickler for rules.

“But that’s not why I’m calling,” he went on. “I see you’re still in town. One of the plates belongs to a Skipper Jenkins. He was a repeat visitor to the point if he didn’t have an address not far from where you are now, it’d look like he was a resident, he was at that house so frequently.”

“You want me to go take a look,” I surmised.

“Just a drive-by. See if his truck is there and any other cars.”

“No problem. What’s the address?”

Greg rattled off the address. I plugged it into the GPS. He wasn’t wrong; the address was three miles from the coffee shop.

“I’m back in Knoxville but I’ll be talking to Shannon. I want to be in Rogersville.”

I didn’t understand his hesitation.

“Is there a reason you sound hesitant to tell me that?”

“It’s a small town. I’ve already been there once. As you can imagine, being an out-of-tower, my presence was noted. I don’t want to raise suspicion with you and Liza being there and being visible and then me showing back up when we don’t know the players and who to avoid. I mean no disrespect but I’d feel better if you two had backup.”

“No offense taken and just to say, backup is always welcome.” Unlike Greg I didn’t hesitate to lay out the rest and I didn’t give a shit if I came across as disrespectful. “But I have serious reservations about Frank. If shit hits the fan, I’m uncertain I want him having my back, and I’m positive I don’t want to rely on him having Liza’s. Normally, I’d say two is better than one but in this case, it’d be preferred you ditch Frank and come alone.”

“I agree with you. Can’t say the thought of that idiot having a gun anywhere behind me doesn’t give me a shiver. I’m more afraid of friendly fire than I am not having someone watch my back.”

It was good we were on the same page.

“You could call in one of my guys to come up. You’d have to wait a day for someone to get here but you wouldn’t have to worry about someone accidentally shooting you in the back.”

“Already thought of that. I’ll call Shannon, see what she thinks. Though I already know she’ll tell me to call TC and see who they can send. It’ll just be a matter of paperwork.”

Yeah, I knew all about paperwork and making sure you had an abundance of it to cover your ass in case the powers that be wanted to audit and second-guess your every move in the field while they sat in their clean, comfy offices, going home every night to their beds.

Yet another reason I was happy to no longer work for the federal government.

“I’ll do your drive-by now and call you when I’m done.”

“Appreciate it. I’ll be watching.”

Right, the livestream camaras.

“Copy that.”

I glanced at the coffee shop and decided I’d come back for Liza’s latte. With drive time back to the compound it’d be lukewarm at best but still drinkable. If I got it now and it sat in the car until I was ready to go back it’d be ice cold and taste like shit. Liza being Liza wouldn’t complain—she’d get her caffeine hit and be happy—but I knew she preferred her coffee hot even in the summer. And since giving her something as ridiculously miniscule as my consideration was all I had to give at the moment, I was delivering the warmest latte to her I could.

I got back to the compound later than I’d planned. Greg’s errand turned out to be a time suck and possibly a clusterfuck. Though Greg got more than he’d asked for with the hoard of people gathered in the front yard of the house. Most of whom turned to watch me drive by, which meant he’d gotten clear shots of their faces on the recording—something I knew because he’d called me moments later happier than a pig in shit. Unfortunately that call came in as a beat-up black pickup started tailing me. Which led to the time suck of me driving all over hell and creation. Not to shake the pickup, but keep my cover. There weren’t many, but I stopped in front of every for sale sign I could find, made a show of parking and getting out of the CR-V to look at the house from the street. After aimlessly driving around for what I felt was long enough, I went back to the coffee shop to get Liza’s coffee. The truck was gone by the time I came back out, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t still watching—which meant I couldn’t stake out the parking lot like I wanted. So my day was fucked and I was late, as in Liza had called when I was five minutes out to tell me she and Allyson were heading to the community center and to meet them there. With the uneasy feeling in my gut now putting me way the fuck on edge after being followed all afternoon, I told her to wait for me.

So now there I was, parking in Allyson’s driveway with Allyson and Liza waiting for me outside. Thankfully, it was a come-as-you-are event because there was no time for me to change from my jeans and tee into something more appropriate.

As soon as I was out of the car, Liza made her way to me, got close, leaned in for a kiss, then wrapped her arms around me.

I gave her what she’d nonverbally asked for.

“I’ll brief you when we get back,” I whispered close to her ear. “Then we have some decisions to make.”

Liza stiffened but nodded without any further question. When I straightened, I tagged her hand and asked, “How was your day?”

“Great. Me and Ally met up with Colleen. She was helping a sweet lady named Patty mold soap. When they were done pouring the molds, Patty taught me how she makes her detergents.”

So she’d spent time in the kitchen, probably got a better look at which chemicals were kept there, but that didn’t explain the melancholy I heard in her voice.