A low whistle then, “How solid is this?”
“Very.”
“Ole Frank gave me his number,” Peña told him.
“’Spect you’ll find time to call.”
“He’s not on your speed dial?”
“Frank’s givin’ me and Tate a wide berth these days.”
“Probably smart,” Peña muttered.
It probably was and now Ty knew why. Before, he thought Frank had gone to the dark side which meant his stepping in for Lexie didn’t make sense. Now, it made sense.
“One thing,” Ty added. “Frank’s gonna use this, he needs to do it soon. If he doesn’t, Crabtree is gonna have a talk with someone else. He sits a cruiser, he’s not gonna be pullin’ my wife over for bullshit and he was involved in my shit so I got a desire to watch him squirm. This info is new, we’ve not been sittin’ on it long and we won’t sit on it much longer. He flips for Frank or he flips for me but he’s gonna flip.”
“Right,” Peña whispered.
“Right,” Ty confirmed.
“You got more?” Peña asked.
“We do but what we got is shit I’m gonna keep. Crabtree isn’t the only one needs to squirm.”
Silence then, “Right. Okay then, Ty, again, stay sharp.”
“Same to you.”
“Keep her happy.”
Jesus.
“That’s another mission, Angel.”
This got a chuckle then, “I’ll bet. Later, amigo.”
“Later.”
He flipped his phone shut.
Then he flipped it open and called Tate.
Then he flipped it shut again and got back to work.
* * * * *
At twelve thirty, Ty was standing with Wood just outside a bay when the Viper turned into the garage and growled down the forecourt.
Ty and Wood stopped talking in order to watch and so did every single man on Wood’s payroll and Ty didn’t even have to turn to confirm. Lexie had visited him in the forecourt of the garage twice and once was incentive enough for any man to stop what he was doing and pay attention.
But watching her park the Viper, throw out a long, tanned leg and fold out of his car wearing a pair of black short-shorts, the tight, berry-colored, halter-topped tee she was wearing that day by the pool in Vegas, high-heeled, black sandals on her feet, a pair of classy, black-framed shades covering her eyes and her long, soft, shining hair falling over her shoulders could cause even Rowdy Crabtree, with his closeted tendencies, to have one motherfucker of a wet dream.
Ty grinned.
Wood muttered, “Shit.”
Ty’s grin got bigger.