Page 43 of Playing for Keeps
A few moments later Del grinned when she leaned forward and set the remote on the floor. She’d left the channel onDie Hard.
“Perfect!” she exclaimed as she lay back against him.
Del kept his arms wrapped tightly around her and continued to smile minutes after her comment, because she was absolutely correct. This, right here at this very moment, was perfect.
13
Christmas was five days away and Del still hadn’t gotten Rylan a gift.
She and Camy had been shopping for the past two weeks. Del had no idea how many gifts they had to buy but was certain it was way too many. The brothers had already made plans to spend Christmas Eve at Camy’s for a game night mixed with more caroling. Del wasn’t looking forward to the singing part but had to admit they’d had a great time at his house decorating last weekend. He’d actually enjoyed the whole festive atmosphere more than he imagined he could have again.
It had been a perfect mood changer to get him through the bulk of this week. But tomorrow he would be heading to Washington D.C. to testify in the case of the District of Columbia versus Renaldo Wimbley. That, Del definitely wasn’t looking forward to. And yet, he desperately wanted to get it over with.
Del hadn’t told Rylan about the trial or that he’d be in D.C. all day tomorrow giving his testimony. He’d considered it. Especially after she’d come to him on Monday evening pouring out all her feelings and concerns about her parents’ declining relationship and the pain of losing her father’s body shop. As they’d lay on that couch watching one movie after another, Del had thought that he should give her something in return for opening up to him. He should tell her everything about the situation with Shannen and the case that had destroyed his career. But he hadn’t.
Instead, they’d ordered pizza and after eating until they were stuffed, headed upstairs to bed. They’d slept in Del’s bed cuddled together just as they had been on the couch and it had felt more than right to Del. It felt as if it were meant to be. Getting up the next morning, Del rode with Rylan because his truck was ready to be picked-up. He’d been more than happy to call the rental company and have the second SUV picked up once and for all.
Now, he was overseeing a few deliveries that they’d wanted to get in before Christmas. Jeret and Rock were off this morning, so it was just Del, Lance and Ethan on the lower level. Noah was in the back office dreaming up more marketing strategies for the bar. One of which included an endorsement proposal they planned to pitch to Ellis Colby once they hosted his and Naomi’s engagement party. With that thought in mind, Del pulled his phone out of his back pocket and was scrolling through his contacts for Naomi’s number so he could confirm the meeting with her and the event planner she’d hired for the first week in January. They’d played a bit of phone tag throughout the week, but Del wanted to get this date nailed down before next week when everyone would be busy with holiday plans and Ethan and Portia’s upcoming wedding. Unfortunately, he’d had to leave Naomi another message.
Del had just disconnected the call when he looked up to see Mal walking proudly through the front door.
His body tensed at the sight, but Del took deep, slow breaths to remain calm. He took a few steps until he was out from behind the bar and standing near one of the empty tables. It was just after noon, so the bar wouldn’t start to fill up until around four when the happy hour crowd poured in.
Mal walked directly toward Del, which wasn’t that much of a surprise. The guy loved confrontation. What did give Del a little pause was the fact that Mal wasn’t alone. Sheriff Mike Johansen walked just a few steps behind him.
They’d walked right past the hostesses, so Del did the honors.
“Afternoon,” he said with a nod. “You guys need a table or will you be sitting at the bar?”
Mal’s slowly spreading smile said they had another reason for being here.
“Hey Del,” Mike said and reached a hand around where Mal stood.
Del shook the guy’s hand. They’d met immediately after Del returned to Providence when Del had visited the Sheriff’s office to let the man know that he was no longer with the DEA and would be living in Providence again. It wasn’t something he was required to do, but Del had felt it was a common courtesy. He got the feeling the handshake was Mike’s way of doing the same.
“I wasn’t sure if you heard, but Renaldo Wimbley’s body was found in a motel over in Denton. Murder.” Mike continued.
Del hadn’t known. The notification of Wimbley’s death wasn’t a surprise—the guy was a drug kingpin who’d made enemies in every state across the nation, not to mention a few international ones. Some would say his death by some form of violence was karma. Del just figured it was a way of life.
“I hadn’t heard that,” Del told him. “Thanks for coming all the way over here to inform me know.”
“I know you were supposed to testify up in D.C. tomorrow, so I figured you’d like to know you wouldn’t need to make that trip,” Mike said. “Looks good in here.”
“Thanks, again,” Del said and waited. These two wanted something more than to deliver a personal message that would save him a drive to D.C. in the morning. And even if Mike was giving Del another professional courtesy by personally delivering that news, Mal had no business coming in with him to gloat.
Mal’s eyes almost glittered with excitement. The guy was rocking back on the heels of his worn loafers, hands stuffed in the front pockets of his khaki pants.
“Yeah, so you don’t have to go to D.C., but you are going somewhere,” Mal said. “To a place I’ve known you always belonged. And as soon as you’re gone, I’m going to petition the council to have this place shut down for good.”
Del looked away from Mal and back to Mike for the rest of the explanation.
The sheriff reached into his back pocket and pulled out some folded papers. He extended it to Del and said, “I’ve got a warrant to search your truck and your house.”
Mike had lowered his voice when he said that and Del appreciated the man’s tact in this still puzzling situation. As for Mal, well, Del would continue to bite down on the urge to kick his bony ass all around this bar.
“Hey, Mike. What’s up?” Lance asked as he came over to join them.
Del had taken the papers, unfolded them and was now reading over the warrant. They were looking for anything that connected him to Renaldo Wimbley and a 2016 red Lamborghini Aventador.
