Ty
“Jackson,” Tatum Jackson said in Ty Walker’s ear.
“Jackson, Walker,” Ty Walker replied.
Silence for a long moment then, “Shit, f**kin’ hell, Ty?”
“Yep.”
Another pause then, “Shit, brother, you out?”
“Yep. Today.”
Another pause before, “Ty, f**k, Wood told me it was soon but I didn’t know it was today.” He paused again then quietly, “Fuck, Ty, good to hear from you, man.” Another pause then, “Where are you?”
Walker didn’t respond to that. Instead he said, “Got somethin’ I need you to do.”
More silence then, “Talk to me.”
“Alexa Anne Berry. Dallas resident. Buyer at Lowenstein’s department store. I need everything you can get on her.”
“Walker, I’m a bounty hunter, not a PI,” Jackson reminded him.
“You got resources. You got connections. I’m askin’ you to use them.”
Pause then, “Who is this woman?”
“I’m marryin’ her tomorrow.”
Silence.
Walker broke it. “You do this for me, I owe you.”
“You’re getting married?” Tate Jackson asked, disbelief clear in his tone.
“Yep.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yep.”
“No joke?”
“Nope.”
“Fuckin’ hell, brother, who is she? How’d you meet her?”
“Doesn’t matter. You gonna look into her?”
Pause then, “I’ll do what I can do, Ty, but I don’t know how much I can pull together before tomorrow.”
“Doesn’t matter. We’re gettin’ married tomorrow, you find shit, I’ll deal with it.”
“Don’t you know her?”
Ty Walker thought about the woman he left behind in the booth.
He didn’t know her. Not at all.