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Her eyes blink down to my chest, and I feel her circling the button of my shirt with her finger. “The story only said it was a robbery gone wrong. Police think she caught the person, and whoever it was… strangled her to death.”
Her voice wobbles, and I pull her to me again, smoothing my hand down her back as I try to deny the obvious question. “They don’t know who did it?”
“It didn’t say, but they must not. The article listed the number for a tip line.”
We’re quiet, and I think about the little she’s told me about this situation. “Were you close to her?”
She shakes her head no. “I didn’t know her at all. I only had her picture… I only know she was one of us.”
Anger tightens my throat. I’ve heard as much as I can take of this situation.
“Can I get you something to eat?”
“I just want to sleep.”
“Sleep, my love.” Holding her close, I kiss her head again. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
Her hand clutches my dress shirt, and I get comfortable holding her as I think. It’s not in my nature to wait for trouble to come looking for me. It’s time I find the bastard.
* * *
Ava is sound asleep in our bed when I call Freddie and André, Logan’s backup guard, to the palace for an urgent meeting. It’s after eleven, but I couldn’t give a fuck. Her safety is my top priority. André sits at the large table in the war room across from Freddie, who is typing on his laptop. I pace, watching Freddie’s dark eyes flicker back and forth across the screen.
“Well?” My patience is at an end.
His dark brow lowers, and he sits straighter in his chair. “Dwayne Vega hasn’t lived in Wa
kulla Springs for almost ten years.”
André and I exchange a glance. “Where is he now?”
“South of Tampa. He hasn’t been there very long either.”
“Where has he been?” André asks the question on both our minds.
“Prison.”
“What the fuck?” I’m around the table now and looking at the screen in front of Freddie. It’s a black window with columns of green text on one side and a mugshot on the other. “Why was he in prison?”
“Looks like assault. He’s only been out six weeks.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I pinch my lips. Dwayne Vega had a note worth one hundred and fifty thousand dollars stolen from him almost ten years ago. Ava says he never came after it. She never heard from him again.
Freddie continues. “I don’t expect him to stay in Florida.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask.
“He used a credit card to book a hotel room. It was the second room he’d booked on the same card. He still hasn’t paid the bill.”
André slides his chair back and stands as well. “It sounds like he’s running or searching.” He glances at me. “You said Ava stole money from this guy?”
“Accidentally,” I say, although I don’t need to justify my wife to these men. For starters, they know her history as well as I do.
Freddie squints up at me. “When has Ava ever accidentally stolen anything?”
“She said the money was in the wallet when she stole it. She didn’t find it until later.”
“Wallets usually contain money.”
