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“You think this might be related to Los Tiburónes?”
“No tattoos. No drugs on him. Comes from money. I wouldn’t rule it out, but it’s unlikely.”
“We’ll cross his name and do some digging,” Davis said.
I nodded and jutted my chin for Lockett and Pearson to get started.
Davis and I talked some more with Myah as the guys trudged off to set the next steps in motion.
* * *
Catherine’s face popped up on my screen with an incoming call.
“Hey, how’s your day going?” she asked after I answered.
“Oh, you know. Dealing with a pop and drop.”
“I’d say that sounds fun. But I know it’s morbid and not sexual since you’re saying it in that tone.”
“Correct. Definitely not a sexual innuendo.”
She snorted a laugh. “Sorry. I know it’s not funny.”
“It would be if I was talking about sex.”
Catherine knew how my job was. Being married to Jackson and dealing with all his SEAL buddies, she knew we all had a morbid sense of humor. If you couldn’t find laughter in the day-to-day, especially when dealing with death, trauma, and danger, our jobs would suck the life right out of us.
“Speaking of sex . . .” She purred her words. I opened my mouth to retort, but she beat me to it, saying, “Wait! First things first.”
“Yes?”
“New Year’s Eve. We’re hosting this year. I know it’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but are you working that night?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Your attendance is requested.” I could hear the smile on her face.
“Okay.”
“And, of course, Tyler is invited too.”
“Naturally.” I rolled my eyes at her match-making obsession.
“And speaking of Tyler . . .” Her words were almost sing-songy.
I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear. “What about him?”
“Do I hear a smile on your pretty little face?” she asked, taunting me.
“Maybe you do . . . Kitty Cat,” I said, teasing her right back.
“Oh! Oh, I knew it!” Obviously, she was too lost in being right and me being happy to be bothered by my use of her nickname. If I was correct, and I was pretty sure I was, she was currently hopping from foot to foot, clapping her hands together. “Tell me everything!”
I asked her to hold and took my call outside. I didn’t want anyone to hear me. Especially the guys. They’d give me shit for days.
“Okay, so how are things going?” she asked. Her interest in my love life was comical, and I laughed. “Don’t bullshit me, Marisa. I can hear it in your voice. Tell me.”
“Things are going good,” I tried to downplay howgoodit really was going.
