Gray showered first, then turned over the single bath in the house to Mickie, but not before steaming up the mirror with a kiss that almost led to round two.  Michaela Girabaldi’s mouth was like crack to him, and he was addicted to her taste. 

Next time.  Gray sighed, imagining her carrying out the sensual torture she promised.  That would happen tonight, if he had any say in the matter.  He fisted the front of his sweatpants to adjust himself, then let out a shuddering sigh as he walked into the living room, his body still tingling like he’d grabbed a hot wire. 

“How’re those pipes now?” Hawk asked with a snigger, around the huge bite of what looked like a ham sandwich, which puffed out his left cheek.

“Shut up, Hawkins.  You’re taking up too much room in this cracker box.  When did you get back?” Gray growled as he walked around the table to sit down.

“Dante called me to meet him here, grumpy ass. If you have a problem with me being here, talk to him,” he said, swallowing hard. 

“Well, it would be nice if he told me that,” Gray said, as he booted up his laptop.

“You should be in a better mood, dude. I know I certainly would be if that gorgeous mouth of hers was on me.”  When Hawkins huffed a breath and contorted his face in faked ecstasy, anger scorched Gray’s scalp, and he fought the driving urge to lunge across the table and wipe that smirk from the pilot’s face.

“Well, you’ll never have to worry about that, asshole, unless you want your own mouth swollen shut,” Gray snapped, his fists curling.

“Ooh, staking claims are we?” Hawk teased, but Gray heard the disappointment in his tone.

“Staked and claimed, so back off.” Gray grabbed his mouse so he didn’t grab Hawk’s throat.

“Well, I thought the ceiling in the next bedroom might come down during the claiming,” Dante snarled, as he walked into the room.  “You better not mess her over, cazzone, or you will be the one with a swollen mouth when they bury you.”  He sat down in the chair beside Gray and grilled him with a lethal stare.  “Think we might get some work done, now that playtime is over?”

“That depends on if your naptime is over,” Gray replied, keeping his tone even.

“Well, I think I’ll take my sandwich outside, so I don’t catch a stray punch,” Hawk said, chuckling as he stood and walked to the door.

As soon as the door closed, Dante turned to him.  “I found out the money was for a large gun trade between Zetas and the Lazarro family.  The guns were shipped to Mexico a year ago, the money transferred to Vinny, but it never made it to the family,” Dante informed.  “The mob wants their money or they want heads.  Zetas is too calm about the whole deal in my opinion.  It had to be a double-cross of some kind.”

Lazzaro.  That matched with Michaela’s account of the meeting her uncle had the day before he was killed.  Gray’s insides uncoiled a little.

“So you think the mob killed Vinny as their first head?” Gray asked.

“No, I know that’s not the case,” Dante said.  “It had to be Zetas.”

“Mickie said your uncle met with Lazarro the day before he was murdered and they argued.  She said Teresa left sick after that meeting.  How are you sure the family didn’t whack him?”

Whack.  That term felt funny coming out of his mouth, but since Dante used it, he did too.

“I’m sure, because they want their money.  If he was dead, they couldn’t torture him to find out where it had gone.  That’s how they work.  Teresa, being in charge of the books, probably realized that too, which is why she left sick and ran.”

“So we’re not sure she took the money?” Gray asked, frowning. 

Dante shook his head and Gray realized then he’d been running on that assumption, because Mickie had planted it in his head.  But he had no proof.  The fact that Teresa ran was a good indication she took it…but technically Mickie had run too.

Fuck—one step toward trusting her and two steps back.

“Well, I need to merge the new information on the thumb drive with what I have so far to reconcile them with the transactions in Vinny’s hundred or so business accounts. I think that will tell the tale of who took the money, and maybe where it’s at right now.  Teresa was thorough, but she wrote her side notes in a code of some kind.  The account numbers and passwords were clear, thank goodness.”

“Well, maybe we can get the translation from the horse, herself.  I talked to Hawkins, Levi, and Caleb. We’re going to Acapulco to grab her. I think I know where she is.”

“The Siesta de Palmas hotel?” Gray asked, slightly irritated that he’d talked to everyone except him about the planned operation.

Dante’s eyes widened. “No, her clothes and passport, which is in Michaela’s name, and other things are still in the room.  Her boyfriend’s drugs are still there, but neither of them have been back to the hotel in a week.”

“I guess we can add identity theft to her list of crimes, too.  Wow, that woman is a piece of work, isn’t she?”  The confirmation of the level of evil that Teresa Girabaldi was capable of made Gray feel more optimistic about Mickie’s innocence.

“Yes, and after I rescue her, I may kill her for doing this to Michaela, if Zetas hasn’t already,” Dante grated, his eyes seconding his statement.

“You’ll probably have to stand in line, because I feel the same way.” Gray wasn’t a violent man, especially toward a woman, but what Teresa had done to Mickie made him itch to feel his hands around her neck.

“I need this finished quickly,” Dante said, huffing a breath as he shoved a hand through his thick, black hair. “It will probably take us four days to get in and out with her. I need you to have this evidence in a box with a bow when I get back, so I can present it to my up line.  That’s the only way I’m going to keep my job.”

“Will that clear Michaela?” he asked.

“That depends on what you find, and what I can get out of Teresa.  From what I know of where she’s at, and who has her at the moment, she’ll probably be begging to tell me what she knows if I save her from them.  That’s what I hope anyway.”

“But one thing doesn’t make sense to me in this whole thing,” Dante said, looking thoughtful.

“What’s that?” Gray asked.

“Why would she choose to run right into the gang’s arms with the money?  Acapulco—”

“Is one of the Los Zetas strongholds,” Gray finished, and Dante’s body tensed as his eyes narrowed to bore into his. “And definitely not a place you’d want to visit, much less reside.”

“How in the hell would you know that? You been reading tourist warnings? Checking crime stats there?” Dante asked with a harsh laugh, sitting back to fold his arms across his chest.

“No, I know because I used to be FBI and on the gang interdiction task force,” Gray replied gruffly.  His facial flash, told Gray that information evidently surprised Dante Grimaldi.  Maybe he should give this guy a copy of his three-page, single-spaced resume, so he would know he wasn’t the only one here with a brain.  No, you don’t need this buster’s approval.

“Well, what the hell do you know? Maybe my sister isn’t crazy for trusting you after all.” He shook his head and sat up to lean his elbows on the table.  His eyes sparked with humor as they landed on the center of Gray’s chest. “So, you want to go with us to Mexico, Mr. Big Dill?  We could always let you take point and you could reason the gang to death, or maybe hit them with your calculator?”

Gray looked down at the graphic there and growled.  He was burning this damned shirt at his first opportunity.  As soon as he had something else to wear.  If he’d have known Hawk was coming, he’d have had him bring some clothes.  But this bastard hadn’t included him in that loop.

“No, I’d be as you suspect—as useful to you there as you are to the FBI with your lone ranger tendencies.  They don’t usually hire rogues, so I’m very surprised they hired you.”

Gray held his breath after he tossed out the bait that would finally settle the question as to who this guy worked for…if he took it.

Dante ground his teeth and it was obvious he was fighting a losing battle. “I was a Ranger who came with four deployments under my belt, and a security clearance next to God.  What did you come with? An HP29C and your nerd card?”

Gray’s lips curved in victory, then spread into a grin as laughter bubbled in his throat. “That was a good one. I’ll give that point to you.”  And a point to me too for reading you so well.

“How about we stop trading points and start solving this case?” Dante stuck out his hand and Gray took it in a firm grip.

“Deal. I’ll get Hawk and Caleb in here. Levi’s in the kitchen. I have no doubt they’ll help you find and extract Teresa, if she’s alive.”

“I saw your guys go outside, so I’ll go and get them,” Dante said, getting up from the table.  They must’ve thought, like I did, the Zombie Apocalypse was happening, and the first victims would be found in that bedroom.  The one in the kitchen must be deaf.”

“And another point,” Gray said, his eyes narrowing.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” Dante laughed as he turned and walked to the front door.

Gray sighed, looked back at his computer screen and assembled a plan of attack in his head. First, he sent an email to Dex to gain access for him into the two accounts the money had been split into from Michaela’s account.  After he sent the email, he Googled the name of the two companies who appeared to own those accounts to find the principals.

There was no online presence for either LLC, which didn’t surprise him, so he went to the New Jersey Secretary of State Corporation registry database.  That both those corporations were listed as foreign entities doing business in Mexico did not surprise him either, but it did help him narrow down who might own those accounts, and it wasn’t the mob.

He clicked on the first corporation link to see the underlying data.  He scanned down to the principal line and his frustration built to see an Agent of Service was used to hide the identity of the principals. He knew the other LLC would be the same, so he clicked out of the site.  Calling that Agent of Service would be useless.  They were hired to protect their client’s identity, and did at all costs, unless a warrant was presented.

His only hope, again, was their computer guru.  He was sure that service agent had plenty of cyber-security on their system, but that wouldn’t stop Dexter.  With a sigh, he sent a second email, asking Dex to get the information he needed.  It was all he could do for now, except dig into the company ledgers and Teresa’s journal to cross-reference them to the transactions in Vinny’s account, after they left to find her.

His messenger pinged, and Gray opened it to see it was Dex. 

Gray: Please tell me you have something on that Blade person. I’m at a dead end here.

Dex: It looks like Blade may be dead too—or out of the agency.  The reason I couldn’t find it is because the account has been deactivated and scrubbed.  It was backed up and archived on a secondary server, though, and they missed it. I’m thinking this guy using that account once, was an accident, maybe?

He could almost hear the glee in Dex’s voice, which made Gray smile.  This man thrived on this kind of thing, and the Deep Six team was very fortunate and thankful he did.  But what he found didn’t really help him, unless it put a name to the mysterious handle.

Gray: Did you find out who he is?

Dex: Does the name Derek Spencer ring a bell?

A tremor rocked Gray and his hands shook as he typed. 

Gray: Yes, it rings a bell.

Because he’d spoken to him about the Girabaldi situation and asked about Zetas in Acapulco, if he was involved in that, Derek now knew Gray was too.  No, from the cagey way his voice sounded during their conversation, Derek was definitely involved somehow. 

But was he investigating the same thing on a federal level? Or was Derek on the dark side and involved in the transaction somehow?  God, he didn’t need any more threads to this investigation, so he would keep his eyes and ears open, but put that on a shelf for now.

Gray: Okay, did you get my other emails just now?

Dex: Yes, sir, and I’m on it.  That shouldn’t take long at all, if Logan doesn’t try to distract me with questions about the wiring requirements at the new office. See ya!

God, he hadn’t thought about Logan or the new office in weeks.  Not since he tumbled into Michaela Grimaldi’s world of problems.  Gray knew the distraction of setting up the new office wouldn’t last forever.  After Logan got the plans finalized and the construction specs in hand, he would be back in the Dallas office asking Gray for a cost analysis.

I need this finished quickly.

“Well, Rambo—you can’t need it finished faster than I do.  Or else we might both be out of a job when this done,” Gray mumbled as he opened the directory on the thumb drive.

“Oh, mmmm…wow—oh, yesss,” Michaela moaned, and Gray almost got whiplash he turned so fast, but he didn’t see Michaela.  “Oh, God—soo good.” She sighed very loudly.

“You want more? If you do, you’ll have to beg for it,” Levi said smugly.

“Please, please,” Michaela said. 

Anger launched Gray from his seat to the kitchen.  Was he going to have to fight every man at Deep Six, he wondered, as he flew around the corner and skidded to a stop.  His anger fizzled, laughter tickled his gut, when he found Mickie leaning on the counter and Levi spoon feeding her something he was cooking on the stove.

“Yeah, this is called etouffee and it’s not even blackened,” Levi said victoriously. “I didn’t have to use a pound of garlic to hide how nasty it tastes, go figure.”

Gray sighed, as he leaned against the wall to cross his arms over his chest.  How in the hell could he not love that?  The question was would it matter?

“Hey, I didn’t insult your cooking, so I don’t have to beg right?” Gray asked, and threw his head back to laugh.