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“Whatever, now I’m just guaranteeing.”
Women flat out gawked at Dante standing outside of the car. Harley overheard a few snide remarks from some of the ladies offering to take him home or questioning the sanity of Harley for kicking a man, especially a handsome one, out of her car. Some of them walked toward the store with Dante, offering him a ride.
She ignored the ladies and stretched her arms toward the backseat to find the yearbook. No such luck without getting out of the car. Her feet sizzled against the black pavement of the parking lot. Fortunately for her, the black and white beach bag Hannah packed to entice her for a trip to the shore weeks ago still sat behind her seat. She slid out a pair of bright yellow flip-flops and relieved her feet from the heat.
Hannah’s yearbook was wedged somewhere in her backseat from the last time she picked her up from school. Harley guessed she could thumb though the pages while Dante found some clothes. Of course, she could always leave him.
Before cramming herself into the backseat, Harley punched in Makana’s office line, as protocol, she left her agent number with the answering service and disconnected the line. While she waited for her handler to call, she searched for Hannah’s book. The heavy yearbook was behind the passenger’s seat. If the schools still did the same thing when she was in school, she’d find groups of kids posing and representing their neighborhoods. With any luck she could narrow down Javier’s neighborhood, only the southeast side school zone attended.
The cell in her hand buzzed, Tai’s face popped onto the caller ID. “If I weren’t busy I’d clobber you right now, Ta-here-ree,” Harley dragged out every syllable in Tai’s first name.
“You sound like my mama. What’d I do this time?” asked Tai. Harley imagined Tai batting her false lashes innocently, something she definitely was not.
“You let me get married to that guy last night!”
“I tried to object.”
Harley rolled her eyes. “Clearly not hard enough.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I’m still with him.”
“Oh?” Tai’s voice went up an octave.
With the phone away from her ear, Harley watched Dante through the storefront window. The sales clerk was all too eager to get his inseam measurements. Since when did women measure with their hands instead of a measuring tape? Dante stood with his arms and legs spread apart; the jerk enjoyed the attention. “Don’t read too much into it, he had me pegged the minute he walked into Chet’s. Oh and he’s also related to Chet. A cousin or something.”
Even over a passing car’s loud engine, Harley still heard Tai’s weapon cock. “I’m coming to you. Where are you?”
“I’m heading toward Three Points, in Little Mexico, as soon as I get rid of the old ball and chain.”
“You need backup? Who is this guy?”
Through the large glass window Dante waved at her just before he walked into the dressing room, her car keys dangling in his hand. Harley turned her back on him. “I left info with Makana to do a background. This guy’s with the FBI but something is off.”
“Has he made you?”
Harley shook her head and switched ears, “No, he still thinks I’m a photographer for the CSU.”
“You are.”
“Only because missions are so few and far in between,” Harley watched the traffic come to a stop at the red light. While most agents took on odd jobs, Tai preferred to sail around the world between cases.
Tai chuckled, “You can come on board with me and the crew.”
“No thank
s,” Harley frowned. Tai took to the seas like a fish took to water. She ran a small team, protected the state’s shore lines, and for entertainment, foiled a lot of modern day pirate’s plans. Harley did not care for long stretches of time on the open water. Her phone beeped. A silhouette of a woman’s body appeared, “Hey, let me get back with you later, Tai. Makana’s calling in.”
Harley said goodbye and disconnected the call. She answered the other call and waited a second as Makana’s assistant connected the two of them. In the meantime, Harley flipped to the dedication page of the book and found Javier’s street. She grinned to herself at how easy this was going to be.
“Harley?”
“Hey, Mak, did you understand my message? I mean this guy is too advanced for FBI.”
“That’s because he’s not,” Makana said. “How do you know him?”
Harley debated sharing her midnight nuptials. The last thing Makana wanted on her team was a ditzy agent. “We met last night.”
