Free Mystic Hearts by Cait Jarrod Page B

conversation with yourself?” Steve asked.
    Larry
ignored Steve. “So you’re pulling my leg about not calling you.”
    “Sort
of,” Jake said and finished his beer.
    “I’m
not. An agent is always prepared, has backup,” Steve kept on.
    “Anderson,
you’re a pain in the ass.”
    “You
need standby for those tight spots, like a blind date blind-siding you.” Jake
tossed his can to the cooler. “What irony. Damn, this is better than fishing.”
    “How’d
you handle yourself, agent?” The corners of Steve’s mouth twitched. “Given your
fear of women, did you nosedive or deliver?”
    Larry
couldn’t stop the anger blazing through his veins from his friend’s teasing. He
didn’t want to explain his behavior toward the female race to clarify Steve’s
misconception.
    He
opened his mouth to tell Steve to go to hell when Jake’s face switched to agent
mode, dead serious. “Back off, Anderson. Untouchable territory.”
    Steve
glared at Jake and then took in Larry over his beer can, swallowed, and nodded
at Larry. “Sorry, man.”
    Outside
of Jake no one knew the truth about his past. He planned to keep it that way.
“It’s forgotten.”
    “Back
on topic,” Jake said. “Do you have any more to report?”
    “No.
With Charlene’s appearance my investigation stopped before it really got
started. What do you have?” Larry asked Jake.
    “Late
last night after the Director filled me in on the tip, he requested I work on
the case on the down-low. He suspects a modest operation that can be taken out
easily.”
    Steve
eyed Jake. “You can’t get away from the FBI, can you?”
    “Not
from the Director, I can’t. I’m doing side work for him under Old Town
Investigations all the time,” Jake said. “I’m betting one of the Impalers
invented the factitious Madison Hand and flying ghosts to ward off suspicion
from what’s actually happening on the manor.”
    “Hoaxes
to remove suspicion off the illegal drug trade,” Larry mumbled, speaking the
ridiculousness out loud. “Lights dancing on the horizon.”
    “Poetic,”
Steve snickered.
    “Shithead,”
he retorted and finished his beer. “When the lights flashed, the length of each
light varied, similar to Morse code.”
    Jake
stood and picked up a stick. “A signal.”
    “Sounds
like the worker bees were busy,” Steve said.
    The
stick in Jake’s hand snapped. “Larry, you have any idea how far south things
could have gone last night? Next time notify me.”
    Larry
spotted the disappointment in his friend’s face, understood it, but held firm.
If he had to do it again, he would. “You’re newly married. I didn’t want to
pull you away to take a ride. Remember, I didn’t think anything more would
happen. Hell, you went through enough with Sanjar and his men shooting you.”
    “Maybe
so, but this shit’s going on in our backyard,” Jake said.” If I’d known, I
would have prevented Charlene from going.”
    “I
didn’t even fucking know!” If Larry had, he would have taken Charlene home
immediately. Peculiar lights were a whole different stakeout than illegal
drugs. “I handled it.”
    Jake
chuckled. “I supposed you did. You’ve had your eye on her since you met. Paul
did you a favor.”
    Larry
never considered himself an open book. “I’m that easy to read?”
    “Not
for the average person you’re not” Jake said.
    “A
stone sculpture tells more than you,” Steve interjected. “I didn’t know.”
    “See,
the average person can’t tell.” Jake grinned and turned his head toward the
water ignoring Steve’s glower. “From six o’clock last night until three this
morning, I surveilled Ellis Goldberg’s house. His alias is Roach. He’s not high
on the totem pole. I hoped he’d lead me to the ‘go to’ guy.”
    “I
take it, you came up empty,” Larry said.
    “Yes.”
    They
needed eyes on the land. “Let’s meet at the manor in an hour for a search,”
Larry said.
    “Do
you have any idea how big the farm is?”