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“Eh. That couldn’t have been pleasant.”
“Not even close.”
“Garner any helpful information?”
“Yes. Two things,” he said, switching the phone to speaker so Andi could hear and chime in if she wanted. “I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Hi, Miss Andi.”
“Greyson.” She smiled.
“What two things?” Greyson asked, frustration in his voice, which was something they rarely saw in the man. He was always “on” things, not frustrated by them.
“Ethan’s skills have seriously grown,” he said. “The safe lock hebeat took exceptional skill.” Christian would have cracked it as well, but it wouldn’t have been easy.
“That’s not comforting,” Greyson said. “And the second thing?”
“We got our next message.”
“What did it say?” Riley asked.
“Hey, Ri. I didn’t know you were there.”
“Yep. Staying to help Greyson.”
“I told her to get some rest,” Greyson said. “She’s been here since Christie’s was hit.”
“I’m fine,” she said, dismissing his suggestion. “So what was the message?” she asked again.
“It was another riddle. ‘Every time you lose something, you always find it...’”
“‘The last place you look,’” Riley said.
“Very good.” His sister loved riddles as much as he did. Or had. This string of riddles was definitely changing his affection for them.
“So where is the last place you would look?” Riley asked.
“Great question.” He paced, and Andi tapped her finger against her lips with a pensive expression on her face.
She looked adorable when she was thinking. The way her nose scrunched up. But her nose was not what he should be focusing on.
He raked a hand through his hair and prayed for guidance.
“Okay,” he finally said. “Let’s go through where the yachts are based.”
Papers riffled on the other end. “TheFisher of the Seais based in Marina del Rey,” Greyson said.
“Beach Hair, Don’t Careand theGrecian Palaceare docked in a marina in San Diego.”
“Wasting Timeis dry-docked up in Santa Barbara, and theMr. Beaumontis up north in a marina by Rosewood.”
Christian snapped his fingers. “That’s it.”
“Rosewood?” Riley asked. “But it’s in Northern California. You really think they’d drive umpteen hours in the opposite direction of the Mexican border, where he’s no doubt taking the loot to ...Okay,” she said with an exuberant exhale. “I got it. It’s the last place that makes sense.”
“They’ve got a serious head start on us. They’ll probably be gone before we get there.”
“No, they won’t,” Greyson said. “Head to the Southland airstrip. I have a friend with an Airbus H175. He’ll get you there.”
