Page 149 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
Logan: Love you, mate. You’re doing the right thing. You’ll have another chance in January. You’d better not skip my fucking wedding.
Can’t have a wedding without a best man.
He sends me back a string of middle-finger emojis, which leaves me chuckling as I turn off the phone. A vague, dull anxiety about tomorrow’s hack circles through my mind, and gut, but I push it away. My little girl, my queen bee, is here safe in my bed. I know who was trying to hurt us and that knowledge, while it enrages me, also dispels some of the fear. Lindy’s a smart guy with a lot of money at his disposal, but he’s not a shadowy super-villain. Tomorrow’s just another hack. I get it done and I come back to this, my bumble in my bed and my arms and my heart.
thirty
My car tripswith De Leon have never been full of chatter, but this one’s so silent I can hear De Leon’s stomach rumble.
More than familiar with his gastric processes, I shoot him a side-eye. “Open a window.”
“Bullet proof,” he grumbles.
“No one’s going to shoot us with him in the car.” I point at Lindy, who is sitting across from us in the back seat of Manny’s limo as we drive to the New Jersey airstrip where De Leon’s plane waits.
“Think of it as part one of his punishment,” De Leon responds.
Lindy sniggers.
“You won’t think it’s funny in a few minutes,” I warn. “And there’s no reason to punishme. If you’re going to start stinking, move over there.”
I swing my finger to the seat next to Lindy.
De Leon nods. “Gladly.”
He shifts across the footwell and sits next to Lindy, who turns so red his neck and ears glow.
De Leon drops a heavy hand on Lindy’s knee. “Anyone gonna take a shot at us?”
Lindy shakes his head. “I called everyone off when Max agreed to do the hack.”
“Why didn’t you stop the drone cover?” De Leon asks.
“It’s paid for through Sunday.”
I glare at him.
Lindy shrugs sheepishly.
“Did you get a bulk discount on invasion of my privacy?” I snarl. “Ten percent off for the weekly drone package?”
Lindy scratches the back of his neck. “Fifteen percent.”
I shift my eyes to De Leon, who looks like he’s fighting a smile. “Spank him really, really hard.”
“Cane’s more my style.”
Lindy swallows audibly. “You weren’t joking about that?”
“I never joke,” De Leon says.
I know that’s not true. De Leon has a well-developed sense of humor, even if he is the world’s most annoying human being.
Manny’s voice crackles over the car’s intercom. “We’re here.”
De Leon snags one of the black duffels he’s brought with him and drags it close.
“Hood time for you,” he says. Without taking his hand off Lindy’s knee, he unzips the bag and pulls out a black leather gimp hood. Where the fuck has he been shopping?
