about this Palmer guy before I decide,” Temper says. “I need to know exactly what we’re working with here. I don’t want to go in blind. Saint, call the rest of the men in.”
“On it,” Saint says, sending out a text message.
Drug lords, mercenaries...what other kinds of people am I going to meet during the next few days? I stay quiet during their conversation, and when Renny and Saint leave to figure out what move to make next, Temper and I are left alone again.
“I’m going to go to Izzy’s house with a pitcher of margaritas,” I tell Temper. I know we’re supposed to be on a lockdown, but I seriously can’t think of anything better right now, because this whole thing is just too much, and she only lives down the road.
I make up some margaritas and am about to leave as Crow and Dee walk up. “Where were you guys?” I ask them, eying Dee’s unbuttoned shirt. “I’m guessing you didn’t find anyone with taste to go shopping with you, then?”
“We were at the strip club, working,” he admits, glancing down at his shirt. “And no, apparently none of my female friends can make time for me.” He makes an overexaggerated frown.
“You work at the strip club now?” I tease. “What’s your specialty dance move? The slut drop?”
“Ha, ha,” he replies in a dry tone.
Crow wraps an arm around me. “Where are you off to with a pitcher of alcohol?”
“I was going to walk to Izzy’s. It’s just down the road, isn’t it?”
“You don’t even know where it is? Come on, I’ll walk you over,” Crow says, turning to Dee. “I’ll be five minutes.”
“I hope she’s home,” I say as we make our way by foot.
“She’s always home,” notes Crow, amusement in his tone. “She’s probably sitting on her couch on her laptop, Shadow by her side.”
“So you guys just drop in whenever you want to?”
“Exactly. What’s family for?” Crow replies chirpily, moving out of the way when I accidentally spill some of the cocktail. “Shit, sorry.”
We arrive at Izzy’s house, and Crow knocks. We can hear Shadow at the door, barking his little head off. The door opens and she stands there in her pajamas, smiling at us. “Well, well, what do we have here? Come on in, guys.”
“I’m just here to drop her off,” Crow says, waiting for me to get inside. “Call me when you’re done, I’ll come and get you, all right? And lock up.”
“Yes, sir,” Izzy says, closing the door and turning to me. “What have I missed? Wait, let me get some glasses and salt so we can have one of those while you tell me.”
I walk through her cute boho-style house, which is so beautifully decorated and instantly gives me a homey vibe, and end up in her kitchen where she pulls out two margarita glasses and dips the rims in salt before we pour my homemade margaritas into them. We sit in her living room, where her laptop is open and waiting, just as Crow predicted.
Shadow comes and sits next to me, brown eyes begging for attention, so I pat him with one hand and drink with the other.
“So the men are discussing their plan of action right now, but apparently some drug lord has been asking around about the Knights, and it’s gotten back to us, and now we need to know why, and how this Palmer guy fits into the whole thing,” I explain to Izzy, who sips on her cocktail with wide eyes.
“What the hell did we do to some drug lord?” she asks, confusion etched on her expression. “Why does this shit always happen to us?”
“I don’t know. We need to figure out what the tie is between them and us,” I state, looking down at Izzy’s laptop. “We should do some research of our own. Let’s see what comes up when we search.”
We start online searching, and we find a man by the name of Grayson Palmer on social media.
“So it is his real name? Do you think this is even him? Maybe