Page 88 of His Wounded Heart

“I need info. It’s going to need someone to do some digging into places they probably shouldn’t dig.”

“You know, Dex was just bitching about not having been able to do anything fun lately. Apparently our little two-month trip in Eastern Europe didn’t utilize his skills to their proper potential. Do you need him in Tennessee?”

“So does everybody know my business?” I ask curiously.

“Your four lieutenants do, and Drake does since he’s the one who recommended his home town, and I hear from someone on Kostya’s team, because Drake also suggested one of his brothers hole up there for a while too. So, what’s the deal? Is that town like a spa for men?”

“Yep. That’s exactly what it is. My skin has never felt so smooth.”

Gray chuckles. “Thought so. I’ll let Priya know. So does Dex need to be on site?”

“No, this can be done remotely. Text me with his personal phone number. Tell him to expect my call. Is he available in the next hour?”

“For you? Absolutely.”

“I’ll send him a couple of pics in the meantime. You’re giving me his personal or satellite phone, right?”

“Of course. But it wouldn’t matter, Dex has all of our phones set up so none of them can be traced, or cracked by either the enemy or our friendlies.”

“I should have known.” I shake my head. The things my men had been doing. It makes a commander proud.

“Good enough. Text me with whatever number you think I should use. Tell him to expect my call within the hour.” I have my thumb on the button to hang up when Gray yells out my name.

“Simon!”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be such a stranger. You were never just my boss. You’re my friend.”

I let that sink in for a second. That was all the time I would allow, for now.

“You’re my friend too, Gray. The phone will work both ways from now on. Not only will I call, I’ll pick up calls too.”

“Good to know.”

And that’s why I called Gray and not Kostya. Gray was nicer, Kostya is going to bite off my fucking head for not having called or picked up his calls.

I knew I was going to be nervous as hell if I just tried to kill four hours at home before putting Bella to bed and waiting for Simon to show up. I close my eyes and think about how long it will take to clean my kitchen. A half hour, max. How long is it going to take to clean me up? Another half hour since I’m not going to try too hard after having already shown off in the sweater. That means me and my little sidekick have three hours to kill.

Bella’s still at the fire station, so I pull out my phone to call over to the hospital in Pigeon Forge where both Violet and Bernie had been admitted. I wasn’t going to take Bella to see Luther; he might have been doing pretty well when Simon and I visited, but it was still a crapshoot, so a Bella visit is out of the question.

“Hi, this is Trenda Avery,” I say to the operator. “Can I talk to the nurse’s station where Bernie Faulks is staying? I’m pretty sure he’s in room three oh five.”

“Hold on.”

I wait.

“I’m sorry, he’s been moved to room six thirty-one, let me transfer you to that nurse’s station.”

Hmmm.

“Hello?” the nurse answers.

“Hi, my name is Trenda Avery. I’m a friend of Bernie Faulks. He was admitted for gout nine days ago. I was hoping to bring my seven-year-old daughter with me to visit him today.”

“Let me look at his chart. Are you family?” she asks.

“No, we’re neighbors. I don’t think he has any family.”