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“That’s great, Boss,” Armando said. “Is it Marcella?”
Vincent looked at him like he had two heads. “Are you serious? I’m Vincent Heston,” he reminded him in a hushed tone, “Son of Gilberto Fidel Sanchez. I cannot marry the help. No, Armando, the woman I have in mind will be the perfect adornment on my arm, and I know that, together, we will come to own this state, and our children will be beautiful.”
“That’s nice, Boss,” Armando said. “Um… Boss, what are we going to do about the rat who is now working as a lawn boy?”
Vincent glanced towards Raven again and said, “We will know very soon.” As Raven headed over with a coffee pot in hand, he added, “Now run along, Armando. I have my future to attend to.”
Pendale, Texas
Early Wednesday Afternoon
Corbett wokeup with a crick in his neck and a buzzing in his ears. He tried to move and wondered why his body felt weighed down. Then he opened his eyes and remembered where he was. Naomi was still asleep, her blonde hair spilling across his lap. The buzzing was his phone, but he wasn’t going to be able to fish it out of his pocket without waking her up.
He thought about last night, or early this morning. He’d come here to confront her. He planned to find out once and for all if she was working with Ayden. It had made sense once he saw the news account that mentioned her brother. Naomi could well be one of those lawyers he’d heard about who were sent to law school by the thugs just so they could have access to someone they knew would always be on their side.
Those were the assumptions he had in his head as he rode Stella over, but as he looked down at her now, her face peaceful and surrounded by that golden halo of hair, he second-guessed himself. She didn’t look like a criminal, but Corbett had been in this business long enough to not give that any credence. What he did give credence to, however, was his gut. When he’d seen her face last night, his gut had told him that all he wanted to do was make her feel better. He looked at her again. He had done that, if only for a little while.
But when she woke up, she was going to have to answer the hard questions. He didn’t intend to let her get away with not answering them this time, no matter how attracted he was to her.
The phone in his pocket buzzed again. The persistence made him think it may be Gomez, so he needed to answer it. He tried to gently slip his hand down under her head and into his pocket, so as not to disturb her. It didn’t work, though. As soon as his hand was underneath her, she opened her eyes.
When she realized that she was asleep against his chest, she popped up and gave him a wide-eyed look. “What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said, pulling the phone out. “You fell asleep.”
She looked mortified, and Corbett decided that particular look wasn’t good for his ego. He glanced down at the phone. It had been Gomez. And Ridge had also called again. Looking back at Naomi, he said, “Are you okay?”
She looked around her shambles of a house, and for a second, he thought she may start crying again. He was relieved when she didn’t. Instead, she only nodded and said, “Do you want some coffee?”
Corbett smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Naomi went into the kitchen, and while she was gone, he listened to the voicemail from Gomez. It said something along the lines of, “If you are still alive and you haven’t checked in with me yet, you little shit, you better be buried in a box somewhere with no cell service. Call me! Now! Damn it!” Corbett grinned. It was nice that Gomez cared.
He listened to Ridge’s message. It said pretty much the same thing as it had last night, only this time Ridge sounded more desperate. “Hey, I know you’re busy, man. Do you want me to call the Marshals about this? I have the card of that one agent who was going to set things up for Hank. Let me know. Raven’s at work today; hopefully it will keep her mind off things.”
Naomi came back in. “I’m going to shower. The coffee is brewing and the cups are… wherever you can find one.”
“Thanks,” he said. He would give her time to shower, and drink her coffee, and then they would talk.
He dialed Gomez back as he went into the kitchen. His boss answered by saying, “Where the fuck are you?”
“I’m in Pendale, Boss. I’m sorry I didn’t call you last night. It was a long day. I fell asleep.”
“In Pendale?”
“Yes, sir,” Corbett said, not offering any other information.
“We need to meet today and talk about what happened yesterday. I have some other news to share with you as well.”
“Is it about Sam? Did they find Tammy?”
“No, not yet,” he said. “It’s about your lawyer friend, Naomi Ward.”
“Oh,” he said, not wanting to tell Gomez he already knew. He was going to handle this personally. It was true that he wanted to be the first to talk to her, but he knew it was also more than that. He suddenly felt a need to protect her—from everyone.
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to get into it on the phone. Can you be at the office in two hours?”
“Give me three?”
