did not identify myself as anything but a bartender. Maya was shaken up and her lock was broken, so I spent the night on her couch."
"What does this Maya look like?" Flynn asked curiously.
"She's very attractive," he admitted.
Flynn grinned. "Now the story is making more sense."
"It's not like that."
"It's exactly like that," Beck interjected, a gleam in his dark eyes.
"Whatever. That's not the problem. Maya told me more about Natasha and her mysterious death, and she's not going to stop looking for answers. I've been trying to figure out the best way to keep her mission from interfering with mine. I think the only answer is to try to help her solve her mystery so I can get her away from the club."
"What if her mystery ties into the club?" Flynn asked. "You just said her target list is the same as yours."
"It's possible it will tie in, but there are other suspects in her grandmother's death who are not connected to the club. I'd like to focus on them, see if I can come up with a legitimate theory that will lead her in another direction."
"I thought Natasha died of a drug overdose," Beck put in.
"I don't think it was that simple. The only thing I know for sure is that Maya is making someone nervous with her interviews and reports of Natasha's recently discovered journals."
"Where are the journals?" Flynn asked.
"Maya works at a production company that's located at Blackwood Studios. She says the journals are there and there's no way anyone is getting onto the lot or into the offices this weekend. She feels the security there is as good as it would be anywhere."
"She's probably right," Flynn said. "So, let me get this straight, you want the team to solve her grandmother's murder?"
"Yes, and fast," he said bluntly.
"You don't ask for much," Flynn said with a sigh. "I assume this old case has already been reviewed."
"Apparently by at least the cops and two private investigators, one thirty-six years ago and one in the last few months." He softened his stance. "I don't need us to solve it, I just need some clues that point away from the Firebird Club. I'd dig in myself, but I have to be at the club at five. And I definitely need to be there because Maya is meeting Constantine Dimitrov at six."
"We can get involved," Flynn said. "But it may take a few days."
"I know, but I wanted to give you a heads up."
"We'll see what we can find," Flynn replied. "Caitlyn told me she found you a wedge."
"She did. Some photos I can use for blackmail."
"Who are you blackmailing?" Beck asked.
"I'm going to set up David Graham, the parking valet, and the club manager's son as the blackmailer. He's my best bet to get inside information. He's well connected, and he has access to the cars. I'm quite certain he's right in the middle of what's going on. But I need to get him in trouble, make it look like he's running a side gig. Then he'll be more amenable to an approach."
Flynn nodded, approval in his gaze. "Smart."
"We'll see." He paused as Flynn's fiancée stepped onto the porch. Callie had dark hair, warm brown eyes and a friendly smile.
"I made us lunch," she said, then paused when her gaze connected to his. "And there's plenty for three. Hi, Jax. Did you come to paint, too?"
"Not a chance. And thanks for the offer, but I need to go."
"Are you sure?" Flynn asked. "Callie is the best chef in Santa Monica."
"I know," he said with a grin. "I hope I can get a rain check."
"Any time," Callie replied. "Oh, and I'm doing a soft opening for my new restaurants three weeks from today, so make sure you pencil that in. I'd love to have you there."
"It's opening already?" He knew that Callie had been working on opening up her own place for the past several months.
"Yes, I can't quite believe it." She paused. "I'll let you guys finish whatever you're talking about. Just one question, Flynn—is whatever this is going to change our afternoon plans?"
"Sorry, babe."
She smiled and shrugged. "It's fine. I'll go into work, too."
"Sorry for messing up your plans," Jax told her.
"I'm used to it," Callie replied. "And I don't really mind. I like how your team is always there for each other. It's a good thing."
As she stepped back into the house, Flynn turned to him. "Care to point me in any particular direction on the Natasha murder?"