“Just be careful, okay?”
“I will. I promise. That goes for you, too.”
He’d sounded confident that their date would happen, and she wished he was right. He wasn’t, though, and sadness washed over her. Was she going to walk away from the best man she’d ever met?
Tyler needed her, but what about her own happiness?
Chapter 25
Grayson ended his conference call with Liam and Cooper. He’d called them first thing the next morning to tell them about Arthur threatening Harlow and to keep a close eye on her while he was undercover. The good news, Pressley’s driver hadn’t hesitated to take the money Cooper had offered. Turned out he hated Pressley and would’ve quit if his wife hadn’t been sick, and he needed the job.
Tomorrow morning, Benny Kaplan would introduce Grayson as his cousin to Pressley. The success of the mission depended on Pressley accepting Grayson as a temporary stand-in for Benny.
Because Don Delgado, Pressley’s man, had seen him with Harlow at the diner, a change in appearance was in order. To prepare for that, he’d been growing the beard from the time he’d come up with the plan to get close to Pressley. But that wasn’t enough, so after getting off the phone with his teammates, he went to the bathroom.
“Here goes nothing,” he said to his reflection, taking a moment to appreciate having hair. It only took a few minutes to shave his head, and he was pleased with how much different he looked as a bald man with a beard. He picked up the black-rimmed eyeglasses with clear glass for lensesand slipped them on. “Perfect.” Delgado would never recognize him as the man with Harlow.
He removed the glasses and slid them back into the case. After one more glance in the mirror at the man he didn’t recognize anymore, he went shopping. His clothes were more expensive than what a stand-in driver in need of a job would wear, so a shopping trip was necessary. Goodwill was his store of choice for what he needed. An hour later, he was back home with pants and button-down shirts that were in surprisingly good condition but were obviously not new or expensive. Tonight, he’d move into the pay-by-the-week apartment Liam had found with the promise that it wasn’t a roach-infested dive.
That done, he opened the weapons safe in his closet. Two guns, three sets of comms and his favorite knife went into a canvas tote. He grabbed the envelope that had a burner phone and his fake ID and added them to the tote. The laptop he’d set up to have a history of porn and sports programs viewed went in the bag. If Pressley got nosy and sent someone to snoop in the apartment Grayson was renting, all they’d find was a single guy who liked to watch porn and sports. He took his weapons bag and a small suitcase downstairs and set them next to the door.
His stomach growled with hunger, so he made a sandwich, grabbed a beer and Veronica’s diary, taking everything out to the deck. While he ate his lunch, he watched the people enjoying a beautiful day at the beach. The waves weren’t up, or he’d be out there on his surfboard. His thoughts turned to his visit to Madeline Osorio’s PI yesterday. He’d gone there before returning home from his night with Harlow.
Monty Hightower had no business being a PI. Young and inexperienced, a wannabe cop who’d failed both thephysical and the written exam, so he decided that being a PI would be fun. When Grayson asked to see his license, he first claimed he didn’t have it on him. Since Grayson already knew he didn’t have one, he gave Hightower a choice. Return Mrs. Osorio’s money or Grayson would report him for practicing without a license. Hightower was sweating by the time Grayson finished with him, and he promised he would refund the money. Grayson was going to report him anyway as soon as Madeline had her money back. It had been a satisfying visit.
Finished with his lunch, he opened Veronica’s diary. He’d planned to read it yesterday, but then Pressley had attacked Harlow, and she’d needed him… Fine, he’d admit it, he’d needed to go to her. He started reading from the beginning. It wasn’t until the last thirty or so pages that Pressley entered the picture. For most of those entries, Veronica gushed over him. He was so handsome. He was so generous. He was a stud in bed. He was a long list of perfect in her mind. They were going to have a future together as soon as he divorced his wife. Then the tone changed.
At first, it was subtle. He canceled a date. He said he’d call her, then didn’t. He came over one night but was irritable. He snapped at her for no reason. And so on. His shine was fading in her eyes. It reached a point where Veronica grew suspicious, doubting anything he said to her. Then she overheard a damning conversation. Grayson reread the passage.
I overheard a conversation between Anthony and Don Delgado. We were at Anthony’s house, the first time I’ve been there. His wife finally moved out, so he brought me home with him. All I could think was that someday soon I’d get to live here. My God, his house is awesome. I could so see myself as the hostess for the parties we’d have.
Then Don arrived and he and Anthony went to Anthony’s office. What is it they say? Curiosity killed the cat? They’d both seemed tense, so curious me eased down the hall. The door wasn’t fully closed, and I could hear them talking.
I think Anthony stole some people’s homes. Don told Anthony he didn’t have to worry about Pickens, whoever that is. The other one’s name is Etta something. Apparently, she’s been complaining for a few years now to anyone who’d listen that the tax office cheated her out of her home. Don’s afraid she’s going to find someone who’ll believe her, and he wants to scare her into shutting up, but Anthony said no one listens to a crazy old woman.
Anthony has to be behind this, otherwise why would Don be worried and talking to Anthony about it? I don’t know. Maybe my imagination’s working overtime. Anthony wouldn’t steal someone home, would he?
“Yes, he would,” Grayson said. It was good evidence that both Pickens’s and Miss Etta’s names were included in the journal. The next few entries were back to her talking about Pressley and how much she loved him and looked forward to a future with him. She’d apparently decided that it was her imagination and had dismissed what she’d overheard. A few weeks passed, and he skimmed over the pages detailing their dates and sex life. Then…
Anthony broke up with me tonight. Who does he think he is? He made promises, told me he loved me, said we’d be married as soon as his divorce was final. If he thinks I’ll go away quietly, he’s in for a surprise.
If only she had gone away quietly, she wouldn’t be missing, and a stranger wouldn’t be reading her diary. There was a five-day gap between that entry and the next one.
Anthony refuses to see me, and I’m so angry. He used me then threw me away. Well, that doesn’t work for me.I wrote him a letter telling him I knew what he’d done to that poor Etta woman and the Pickens man, and unless he wanted me to tell the police, he’d pay me a million dollars. He owes me that for being a lying, cheating bastard. Yeah, I found out he cheated on me and he needs to pay.
Grayson took a break from reading for a few minutes and let the view of the ocean and the sound of the waves hitting shore ease his mind from thoughts of a woman scorned who he was 99 percent sure was dead. So foolish to think that a man like Pressley would just shrug and hand over a million dollars. He shook his head as he picked up the diary again. The next entry skipped ahead by three days.
Anthony called. He said he’d pay me half what I asked for, and I could take it or leave it. He wanted to make sure that I understood I’d never get another cent out of him. I could push for the full million, but honestly, I just want to be done with him. Even if he wanted me back now, I’m not interested. I’m so over him.
I’m meeting him at midnight behind the bowling alley. I asked him why he couldn’t just mail me a check, and he laughed. “Are you really that stupid?” he said. “You think I’ll agree to having a paper trail that I paid you off?”
Guess he has a point. The thing is, Anthony scares me now. His voice was so mean and cold, not that of the Anthony who’d wooed me into his bed. There’s a voice in my head saying I shouldn’t go. That it’s a very bad idea. But I want my money, so I’m going. I’ll just be alert and careful.
That was it, her last entry. Grayson closed the journal. Foolish, foolish woman. He called Cooper.
“Yo,” Cooper said on answering.
“Did you go by Veronica’s real estate office?”