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“Take me home.” He wanted to see her. Touch her.
“Oh, Mikey dropped off Cat’s bag,” Tobias told him. “It’s in the back next to you.”
He glanced over at the tattered black bag. At least she wouldn’t have to live in near poverty. She could have every luxury.
Although . . . she didn’t seem to be as swayed by the things he could buy for her as he’d thought she might be.
She was different from Elena, who’d always wanted gifts. Jewelry, clothes, anything expensive and pretty.
Cat protested him leaving his credit card for her. Elena would have taken it as her due.
His phone rang as they started heading toward his house.
“Nighthawk?”
“Hey, Boss. How’s it going?”
He sighed. “Everything is fine. What do you have for me?”
“You’re supposed to ask how I am,” Nighthawk replied, sounding upset. “That’s how a friendship works.”
“We’re not friends,” he gritted out.
“Ouch. You wound me. Well, if we’re not friends, then why do you call me all the time?”
Devil take him.
“Because you work for me.”
“I do?”
“That’s why I give you money, Nighthawk.”
“Oh, I thought that was because we were friends.”
“Do you give all your friends two hundred grand a year?” he asked.
“I don’t have any friends other than you.”
He took a deep, slow breath. This was getting him nowhere. And he knew what to do to get the answers he needed. “How are you?”
“Good. Thanks for asking. But I don’t have time to chitchat. Got things to do.”
He gritted his teeth together.
“Did you find out who made the call to the cops?”
“Yep. You piss off one of your employees lately, Boss?”
His mind immediately went to Cat. Had she betrayed him?
“What? Who?”
“Maybe it’s your phone manner. Kind of rude.”
“Who?” he repeated.
“Oh, right. A woman who works at Michelle’s. Starla Adams.”
“What?”
“I don’t think I can make myself clearer.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “Starla made the call?”
“Yep. And you know how you wanted any information about who messed up that apartment in Brownsville?”
“Yeah? You found something?”
“Well, I was going through Starla’s bank account and stuff to see if there was anything in there that might indicate why she’d call the cops.”
“What did you find?” he asked.
“She drinks way too much coffee. And the amount of money she spends on cosmetics—”
“Nighthawk,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“Is there a connection between her and Cat’s apartment?”
“Cat? A cat owns an apartment? Because no one will let me use Nighthawk as my legal name. Oh wait, that’s the woman you asked me to look into? Good thinking. Always do a background check before you dive into pussy.”
“Nighthawk! She’s not just pussy. She’s mine.”
“Wow, Boss. Didn’t see that coming. Do you know what star sign she is?”
“No.”
“Because you’re a Taurus, so while you’re stubborn, you are pretty compatible with numer—”
“Nighthawk!”
“What?”
“Starla. Cat’s apartment. Her bank records.”
“Oh, Starla. Yeah. She took an Uber to Cat’s apartment the evening before you found it trashed.”
That couldn’t be a coincidence. It had to be Starla who wrecked the place.
“Do you know where she is?”
“Trying to track her down now. Apparently, she didn’t turn up for her shift at Michelle’s. And she isn’t at her apartment.”
“Find her.”
“On it, Boss. You can count on me.”
“Have you had a chance to look into Cat?” he asked.
“No. You said it wasn’t urgent, right? Do you want me to get back on it?”
“No, find Starla first.”
After all, Cat wasn’t going anywhere.
34
Cat couldn’t sleep.
She tossed and turned.
It was too much. The bed was too big. And the sheets were so smooth, not scratchy like she was used to.
Sure, she had Roger and Snuggly, but they were finding it hard to adjust to this large bed and the huge house.
She wondered how many houses there were in Manhattan. Not many, she was betting and Alejandro owned this large one. It was a sign of how different they were.
She needed to talk to her friends. When she felt lost, they anchored her. Sitting up, she glanced over at her new phone.
There would be a million questions if she called them on this phone. But what if they were worrying about her? And then there were Jake and Elsie, she needed to text them, too. She texted them first, letting them know her new number.
Chewing her lip, she sent a quick message off to Immy.
Cat:
Couldn’t find my phone at work. Had to splurge on a new phone. Still hoping to find mine, though. Miss you guys xx.
Immy wouldn’t be awake. She had to go to bed early and get ten hours of sleep, or she couldn’t function. She’d always had a bit of a low immune system, so she needed to take care of herself.
It was a cowardly way to contact them, she knew. But as much as she wanted to talk to them, she also had to keep them safe.
She erased the message and any evidence of Immy’s number.
Shit.
Would Alejandro have retrieved her phone by now?
