Since Miss Mabel wouldn’t be coming to the rescue, maybe he could stir things up, get them to turn against each other. “Skye didn’t take your money, Mr. Grant.” It left a sour taste to be polite to a major drug dealer, but it probably wouldn’t be smart to call him dirtbag.
He focused his attention on Pretty Boy. Yeah, he was here. Whether by choice or force, he didn’t know. “If I had to guess, I’d say Danny was the one with sticky fingers. What’s your last name, anyway, Pretty Boy?”
“Shut the fuck up.” Danny punched him, and the ring he wore sliced open Tristan’s bottom lip.
It took every bit of his control to keep his hands on his lap, the severed zip ties hidden, and not strike out at the man. His right eye was already swollen shut from when he’d tried to fight Drake taping his legs to the chair.
“As I was saying, Mr. Grant, you might want to ask Danny here where he was during that raid.” Tristan lifted his shoulder and wiped his bleeding mouth over his shirt. “I say that because there was an investigation, and Skye was cleared by her department of having sticky fingers. Did Danny tell you that?” He glanced at Pretty Boy, who was shooting daggers at him.
He turned his attention back to Grant. “No, I don’t think he did. Members of her team were with her at all times, and they all said they never saw any money at their location.” He didn’t know if that was true, but it sounded good.
“Another thing you might want to think about. Sheriff Morgan was engaged to your friend here but broke up with him a few weeks before the raid on your property. Caught Pretty Boy cheating on her.” He gave Danny a disgusted look. “Doesn’t sound like such an honorable man, does he? Want to know what I think?”
“By all means, share your opinion,” Grant said, sounding a bit bored.
“I’d bet serious money that Danny boy’s ego didn’t take that well and he wanted revenge on her. What better way to get it than to put her in your line of sight? Added benefit of that, it takes attention away from him and his sticky fingers.” Tristan decided it was time to shut up and let all that sink in with Grant.
Grant eyed Danny, and Tristan could see that the drug dealer was considering the possibility that Danny had been lying to him all this time. Passing Thomas Grant on the street, one would peg him as an accountant or maybe an attorney. He was tall and thin, blond hair and blue eyes, and wore a button-up blue shirt and gray pants. He did not look like a man who headed up a large drug operation. Tristan decided the man was very smart and surrounded himself with mean-ass enforcers like Homer Drake.
“He’s making that up.” Danny took a few steps back, distancing himself from Grant. “I know for a fact Skye took the money. She told me she had it.”
“You’re a lying piece of shit.” Tristan shook his head, disgusted with the man. “Nothing worse than a bad cop.” He glanced at Grant. “How much you missing, anyway?”
Grant turned to Drake, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his gaze focused on Danny. “Take Mr. Church’s picture.” Then Grant raised his hand and pressed the barrel of Tristan’s own gun to his head. “Smile for the camera, Mr. Church.”
Not likely. He stared straight into the lens, refusing to flinch from the press of the gun to his head. There had been suspicion in Drake’s eyes as he looked at Danny. His hope was for Grant and Drake to turn on Pretty Boy. Maybe beat the truth out of him.
Grant nodded when Drake held up the phone, showing him the picture. “Send that and the one you took this morning to our lovely sheriff. Give her this address and tell her she has three hours to bring me my money.”
Which she did not have. And what picture had they taken this morning? It wasn’t of him, so what did they have—along with one of him sporting a closed eye and split lip—that would make sure she’d appear? He knew, and she knew, that she didn’t have Grant’s money.
It wouldn’t matter to Skye that she couldn’t arrive bearing a briefcase full of thousand-dollar bills, and it wouldn’t matter that she’d ended things with him. She’d take one look at that photo of his battered face and mount a rescue. And if he knew her as well as he thought he did, she’d come alone after getting that message.
“Think this will get your girlfriend’s attention,” Grant said, showing him the phone screen.
Tristan saw blood boiling red. “You touch one hair on that little girl’s head, and I swear on all I hold holy that you’ll live to regret it. I will come at you with everything I have.” He prayed he lived through this so he could follow through on that threat.
“You especially should fear her father. He’ll tear apart with his bare hands everything in his way of getting to you. And if that doesn’t scare you, my brother Kade should. He’s the one you won’t see coming until it’s too late. Smirk all you want, Mr. Grant, but you do not want to be on a Delta Force operator’s radar. I promise you that.” He turned his gaze on each man in turn. “None of you do, and he will come after all of you. Never doubt that.”
The three men shared uneasy glances. He didn’t think they were afraid of him, but if he got out of this alive, they should be. As for Parker, a father’s rage and thirst for revenge knew no bounds. He hoped they realized that. But it was the threat of having a Delta Force operator coming at them that had them apprehensive. They were smart to be worried.
“You know, thinking about it, Kade’s still going to be pissed that you messed up his brother’s pretty face. You might want to consider letting me go and crawling back under your rock. We’ll just call today a misunderstanding.”
“You’re a funny man, Mr. Church, but if you think you’re scaring me, you’d be wrong. I’m not leaving without my money.” Grant pointed the gun at Tristan. “Bang.”
Tristan stared him down, refusing to flinch. His most fervent wish right now was for Kade to have been home. This would all be over now.
Chapter Forty-Eight
When Parker returned to his office, Skye grabbed his arm. “Your brother’s on the way.”
“They let Tristan go?”
“No, Kade. He said he’d be here in an hour and a half.”
“Thank God.”
“I don’t know how he’s making that happen, but I agree.”