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Well, his common sense had died the second he set eyes on Will Monroe.
And there was no way of resurrecting it if Will was going to keep putting himself in harm’s way. It wasn’t hard to guess how those bruises had appeared on his face. The doctor had gotten his ass handed to him and was probably lucky to still be alive.
If Will thought he was going to be allowed out of Charlie’s sight now, he was out of his damn mind.
Except Charlie had no right to barge into Will’s life now, even if he was in danger. Will could do whatever he wanted with his life. Charlie had no say.
And how the hell was he supposed to explain to the rest of his team that he was now thoroughly distracted by whatever was going on with Will? That was not the reason for them being in Buenos Aires in the first place. They had an entirely different job to take care of.
Cursing himself and Will, he continued down the stairs to the first floor, where his friends were sitting in the living room, sipping beers. At least, he didn’t have to worry about Will until morning. That might be just enough time to either come up with a solution for Will’s problem or to cauterize the remains of his heart so he couldn’t care about his ex’s life being in danger.
“Did you tuck your boy in and give him a good-night kiss?” Ed called when he entered the room.
Well, first there was a good chance he was going to kill Ed. Then he might figure out his Will problem.
West lifted his left foot and kicked Edison in the knee. “Asshole.”
“Seriously, a little tact,” Kairo chastised.
“Charlie knows I’m joking,” Ed countered, waving his beer bottle at Charlie.
Clenching his teeth against a sigh, Charlie dropped into the empty armchair while Kairo sat in one of the chairs dragged in from the dining room. Westin and Ed dominated the floral-patterned couch.
“After you dropped off that Francisco guy, did you spot anything interesting?” Charlie asked. If they could talk about the problems ahead of them, he could possibly forget about the bigger problem on the second floor.
“Nothing,” West replied with a shake of his head.
“We took a pass by the neighborhood with the clinic, but the cops had it all locked down pretty good,” Ed added. “You gonna tell Doc Will that we’re the ones who cleared out his drugs to make it appear like a robbery?”
“Tomorrow. We still need to find a viable way to get those drugs back into the clinic without it raising any suspicions.” Charlie rubbed his bearded jaw. Ed and West left the bodies and cleaned up from Will’s impromptu surgery so no one would be able to tell the doctor or his patient had been there at the time. With just a few minutes of tinkering, his guys had made it look like warring gangs had fought over the drugs in the clinic after it had been closed for the day. There was nothing to put Will at the scene during the shooting.
“Did Francisco volunteer anything about what happened at the restaurant?” Kairo leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “What started the shooting? Was he there for Benicio Perez or someone else?”
Ed shook his head. “The dude was out of it. What he did mutter was slurred and gibberish. My Spanish isn’t that good.”
“Don’t know if Will drugged him that deeply or if it was from the blood loss,” West stated. “We couldn’t get anything useful.”
Charlie glanced over at Kairo. “See if you can hack into the hospital records. Keep an eye on this Francisco. Make sure we know when he’s released. If he’s got dirt on Perez, I want it, too.”
Kairo grinned at him. “You’d think he would be willing to cough up that much to his rescuers.”
“We’ll probably have to move fast. Will wouldn’t have half-assed patching him up,” Edison interjected. “Unless the guy gets some infection, he’ll probably be released in a day or two at most.”
“Not to be a dick—” West started, but Kairo was quick to interrupt.
“But you’re so good at it.”
“Do we have anything to keep us following Little Shit around?” West continued as if Kairo hadn’t spoken. “And I mean anything solid linked to Thiago Vergara. Sure, things got crazy at his restaurant, but we’re not even sure if any of this is related to Perez. Some other big-shot asshole could have been eating there.”
“No,” Charlie bit out, hating to even admit it, but there was no avoiding the truth. “We’ve got nothing other than the fact that he’s an utter asshole and has some bad opinions about Thiago Vergara. All the same, Benicio Perez wouldn’t have even been born yet when Vergara disappeared.”
“True, but he’s definitely into some shady shit,” Edison added. He leaned forward and placed his empty beer bottle on the table. “That’s got to count for something. His family could have helped to move those Vergara paintings through the black market after the artist was kidnapped.”
