harder. “You are definitely the first person on the planet to tell me that.” He slipped his feet into a pair of battered Nikes and patted his jeans pocket for his keys, which weren’t there. He spun around, searching the room, and spied them on the bathroom countertop.
“What’s this?” Wes asked from the other room.
Shit. Dante closed his eyes in annoyance. Hinman had found the bracelet. “Nothing. Let’s roll, Westley.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Hinman laughed. “Who’s Taffy? Was she hot? With a name like that, she had to be hot.”
“She’s nobody, okay?” Dante reached for the doorknob, aware that Wes had just used the past tense, as if it were assumed that whoever Taffy might be she was already long gone. On some level that bothered him, though he knew it was a safe assumption for one agent to make about another. The DEA lifestyle didn’t exactly lend itself to long-term relationships.
“Fine. So she’s nobody. But was she hot?”
“Yeah, she’s hot—was hot. I’ll never see her again. Can we go now?”
“She live around here? You got a number? Did you pick her up at a meeting?”
Dante was getting impatient. “Special Agent Hinman? Do you plan on wearing that bracelet to the community meeting room of the public library and then to the Outback Steakhouse? Because if you don’t, you need to just put it the fuck back where you found it.”
“Damn, bruh.” Wes tossed it to the rumpled comforter. “Touchy, touchy.”
Dante shook his head and stepped out into the hallway.
“Is she going to be at tonight’s meeting? What’s she look like?”
“What the fuck, Hinman? You know I don’t thirteen-step women, and I don’t know who she is, all right? I met her coming back from Chicago and we … you know … we hooked up. But now I can’t find her.”
“Whoa. What do you mean you can’t find her?” Wes put a hand on Dante’s shoulder. “Where’d you meet her? Did she swipe a credit card? Were there any security cameras? Partial prints on a coffee cup or anything? Shit, man, you didn’t even trace her cell number? Why? Was it a burner purchased with cash?”
“I don’t have a number. Can we just go?” Dante started walking down the hallway to the elevator. His digs in Asheville weren’t luxurious by any means and it wasn’t like he’d slept in his own bed much while he was undercover, but home was sure as hell nicer than these military-base accommodations.
“You didn’t say where, exactly, you met her.”
“Drop it, Westley.”
“Come on, man. What’s up? You’re obviously interested in her or you wouldn’t have the bracelet on the bed and you wouldn’t be all testy like you are, so maybe I can help you find her.”
“No.” They’d reached the downstairs lobby, and both nodded to a whole slew of Marine Corps officers and agents from the FBI, DEA, and God knew what else on their way to the front door. As they headed to the parking lot, Dante realized he was glad to be getting off base, even if it were only to visit a chain restaurant.
“So, I don’t get it. Was she at a baggage carousel? A shuttle stop? An airport bar? Did you get a partial on a license plate? Come on, man, there’s got to be a way to find out who the babe was.”
“Drop. It. Now.” Dante put his key in the ignition of the rental car and backed out of the parking space.
“Fine.” Hinman sighed. “Too bad it isn’t something simple, you know, like you sat next to her on a flight or something.”
Dante’s mind went blank. Even blanker than it had already been, apparently. He started laughing at his own ridiculous, Taffy-drunk, stupid-assed self. He looked over at Hinman. His friend had pressed his back against the passenger side door and was staring at him like he was an alien.
“Do not tell me she sat next to you on a flight.”
Dante pulled out of the lot and headed to the exit gate, ignoring Hinman’s comment.
“So?”
“You told me not to tell you.” Dante and Hinman flashed their shields and a young marine waved them through, telling them to enjoy their evening.
“All right, now.” Hinman rubbed his eyes and chuckled softly. “That right there is the saddest shit I’ve heard in a long while. The chick must have fucked your brains out, Cabrera.”
Dante had suddenly lost his appetite. All he wanted to do was get back to his room and start checking FAA passenger manifests until he found little Miss