God, how I wanted his words to be true. “What if it is?”
His fists clenched on the table. Jaw tight, he drew a deep breath, then shook his head, eyes seemingly unfocused.
The excruciating silence lasted an eternity.
He fixed his gaze on me once again. “Do you trust me?”
No hesitation. “Yes.”
“Let me take your phone today.”
Cole
Our table sat in the corner of the dining room, eight stories above Lake Willow. The five-star restaurant occupied the eighth floor of Whisper Springs Resort—one of many hotels Rossi Enterprises owned—and boasted a million-dollar view. Mountains, lake, blue sky. Fine china and French crystal. Two men in crisp white shirts and black ties stood in wait far enough away to offer privacy but close enough to assist at a moment’s notice.
“I was sorry to hear about your wife.” Tango spread his white napkin over his lap.
He’d taken a while to broach the subject. For that, I was thankful. “Victoria is why I wanted to meet with you privately.”
“What’s up?”
I offered my old friend the grim details of my short marriage. My suspicions about the car wreck, the texts. Tango listened, not a lick of judgment.
“Thing is, they never found her body. State patrol says that’s common for those types of accidents. Still, something’s not kosher.”
He leaned closer. “How can I help?”
“You still tight with Moretti?”
A smirk. “Why you asking about Moretti?”
Tango and his cousin, Tito Moretti, had been inseparable back in our college days. Tito had allegedly helped run underground fights for the infamous mob boss, Luciano Voltolini. His true skills, however, were behind the scenes, his weapons not fists but a keyboard. Wasn’t a system he couldn’t hack or a file he couldn’t manipulate.
“He helped me out once before, but he’s off the grid. I was hoping you could get in touch. Anyone can find the truth, it’s Moretti.”
Tango considered me for a moment. Shifted to grab his cell from his pocket. Typed a message. Shot me a sinister grin. “Yeah, I know how to reach Moretti.”
Our server arrived with the first course. When out of earshot, Tango asked with one brow raised. “So, you and Natalie King?”
Fuck, I loved the sound of her name. I nodded. “She’s it for me.”
Tango stared, assessing.
“You’re wondering how I can be with someone else so soon after Vic?”
“There’s no timeline for grief, my friend.” He lifted his hands. “Not judging. I’ve got mad respect for Natalie. Did she tell you we had a meeting today?”
“No.” The little shit. She didn’t want my help.
“Her boss didn’t show. Pops was ready to walk, but that girl of yours took the reins. Impressed the shit out of both of us.”
Not a surprise. Bewitching. Best word to describe my girl. “She’s got a way about her.”
“How’s that gonna work, you living in Seattle, her in Whisper Springs?”
“Fuck. I don’t know how this’ll play out.” I stabbed my salad, chewed. Swallowed. “I can’t relocate right now. Opening three more gyms this year. Dad’s not planning to retire any time soon, but he’s slowing down. I’ll be stepping up as CEO in a couple of years. But I can’t ask her to leave her job. She loves it here.”
“She’s only an hour and a half away by jet.” He rapped his knuckles on the table like he’d settled the matter. “That’s no longer than a rush hour commute.”
“True.” Seattle traffic was horrendous. “All I know is I don’t want a future without her. No choice but to make things work.”
Tango nodded, leaned back, crossed his arms. “And if your suspicions about Victoria are true?”
Wasn’t that the million dollar question?
“No easy answer,” was all I could manage. I’d driven myself mad with what-ifs.
Tango glanced over my shoulder, then smiled wide. “Look who the cat dragged in.”
Before I could turn, Tito Moretti planted his ass in the chair next to mine. “Fuckin’ hell. Cole Adams.”
The guy was imposing, from his head-to-toe black garbs, to the scowl, to the new scar on the side of his face. I knew better than to ask.
He offered his hand. The wedding ring took me by surprise.
We made small talk. We ate. I filled them in on my suspicions.
“You’ve checked out her ex?”
“First thing.” I nodded. “He’s in Salt Lake. He could be the one sending the messages, but someone took photos of her with her boss yesterday and possibly followed her home last night.” The thought soured my stomach.
“Can you get me her phone?” Moretti asked.
I slapped her cell on the table. The guy cracked a rare smile. He stood, said, “Give me a day,” and left without so much as a nod.
Tango laughed. I released my frustration on a long exhale.
Brow quirked, Tango asked, “You sure you’re ready for whatever he digs up?”
Was I? Whatever the outcome, Natalie’s safety was my only concern. “Can you two thugs help me hide a body?”
Pacific National Bank stood tall amidst a riverbank forest of pines with mountains and a snowy sky the backdrop. Post Malone played on the radio.
I watched the front door through darkened windows. At 5:11, Natalie exited the building. She paused, bringing a hand to her face to shield the sun, and scanned the parking lot. I tapped the horn. She looked my way, smiled that killer smile, and waved before stepping in my direction.
I’d every intention of meeting her halfway, but stalled, enthralled by the swing of her hips, the sway of her hair, the way that blue blouse clung to her breasts. I was helpless to do anything but drink her in, so damn grateful to be free to ogle the woman without one lick of guilt.
My pulse quickened. Soon she’d be in my arms.
Jesus. Damn. My chest. I offered the good Lord a quick prayer of gratitude, then hopped out of the SUV.
The squeal of tires registered before I’d closed my door. Natalie’s head snapped in the direction of the
