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“Whaaat?” Jack asked, barely able to speak for laughing. “You know it’s funny.”
“Don’t you have a fundraiser to run later this morning?” Mason asked.
Jack dropped his head back and groaned. “Oh God. I’m fucked, aren’t I?”
Gray glanced at the clock. “Should we just stay up at this point?”
Mason shook his head. “Nope, we can get four solid hours of sleep. That’s well worth it.”
“Come on,” Gray said, standing and stretching. As tired as he’d be for the fundraiser, he was glad he’d let Jack drag him to Nathan’s last night. The three of them needed more time for teasing, sharing, confessing, and loving each other. Maybe the cabin trip was exactly what they needed after all.
The fundraiser was a huge success. Despite being tired and hungover, Jack charmed everyone as usual. Huck tripped over the ball, managed to shoot it out from under his hand while dribbling, and generally served as good-natured comic relief. And Henry, the young man Jack had been mentoring for a little over a year, gave a moving speech with Jack standing beside him, supporting him all the way.
Gray spent the rest of the weekend lazing around, watching movies with Jack and Mason, playing sexual-favor poker—stripping seemed far too tame. He forced himself to go to the gym each day, and he spent several hours going over the information for his murder cases. Evidence from the ME suggested the perp was the same. Danielle had died of stab wounds before being burned. But Gray had still gotten absolutely nowhere.
Once he was back at work on Monday, the week dragged. If he could just figure out the fucking motive, he’d have something to go on. The only suspects he had were Whittaker and Andreas, but both had what appeared to be solid alibis. Was the killer making a statement to Andreas, a statement against prostitution, trying to start a turf war, or what? Were the killings actually related or just a coincidence?
On Thursday, one of Gray’s informants with connections to Andreas contacted him, saying he had some information. Gray agreed to meet him for lunch in Chapel Hill, far from Andreas’s turf.
When Gray arrived, Vandal, the only name he knew the man by, was drinking a large coffee.
A waitress approached before Gray had a chance to say anything other than hello. She handed Gray a menu and took his order for a sweet tea. “You want some food?” he asked Vandal. “I’m buying.”
The man grimaced. “I’m not sure I can eat.”
Gray didn’t like that. Vandal had never turned down free food before. “Talk to me.”
Vandal glanced toward a nearby table where their waitress was talking with other customers. “After you order.”
Gray didn’t push. The waitress returned with Gray’s tea. “Did you make a decision?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take the smothered pork chops with mashed potatoes and broccoli casserole for my sides.”
“You got it.” She gave him an appreciative smile before turning to Vandal. “For you, sir?”
“I…”
“Just order something,” Gray insisted.
Vandal glanced down at the menu. “I’ll just have some apple bread pudding.”
The waitress smiled. “Good choice. I might have that for lunch myself.”
Gray raised a brow after she walked away.
“Sweets go down easier,” Vandal said.
Gray had no argument for that. “So what have you got for me?”
Vandal glanced around the room as if he thought some of his colleagues might be hiding out, spying on him. “You didn’t hear this from me.”
“I haven’t heard anything yet.” Gray hoped to God the guy wasn’t wasting his time.
Vandal glared at him but he still looked scared to death.
“Has that ever been a problem with any information you’ve given me?”
Vandal shook his head. “This girl contacted me. I don’t know her name.”
