The Bridal Bouquet. Tara Randel
family wedding. Can’t it wait?”
“It’s about Esposa.”
The man who’d disappeared after killing Eddie. Dylan had searched high and low, as had other law-enforcement agencies, but the dealer disappeared underground. No one had seen or heard from him since.
Anger burned in Dylan’s chest. “What have you got?”
“A buddy of mine in Tampa is on a joint task force with local police departments. He heard about what went down with Esposa. One of his contacts made a positive sighting.”
“Where?”
“Just outside of Tampa. I remembered you said you’d be near there, so I’m giving you a heads-up.”
In his research, Dylan had learned that Esposa had family in the Tampa area, but after having the local district office keep a watch on them, the agents hadn’t found any evidence to corroborate that Esposa had relocated there. Esposa was able to lie low in a place the DEA wouldn’t know of because he’d built a loyal network of people who would hide him indefinitely. But maybe Dylan had caught a break.
Cypress Pointe was only forty-five minutes outside of Tampa. Dylan needed to act on the tip.
“Thanks, Tom. I owe you.”
“Pizza and a round of pool should make us even.”
“Deal.”
Dylan ended the call and slipped the phone back in his pocket. He wrapped his fingers around the cold metal balcony railing. The breeze cooled his heated face. Finally. This was his chance to make Esposa pay. Time to get justice for Eddie.
Except he couldn’t allow Esposa to have any inkling he was here. If the dealer caught wind that Dylan had received a credible tip, he’d take off. Dylan might not have an opportunity like this again. He had to play this smart or his chances of catching the guy would again drop to zero. He needed to hang around and come up with a strategy.
His brothers’ laughter pulled him from his thoughts. He went back into the room. Being here with his family, seeing them safe and healthy, made his chest hurt. Since living in Miami, he’d been too far away from them. The wedding had been a worthwhile reason to reconnect. He’d missed sparring with his brothers, missed the creative ways their mother found to keep her sons active in her life.
It also reminded him this was why he did the work he did. To keep families, like his and so many others, safe from dealers who cared about only money and power.
“Excellent,” his mother said. “You’re back. I was just telling your brothers about my workshop. It’s all about making the bride imagine what she needs for her special day, not necessarily what she wants. I’ve found...”
Dylan pulled Derrick to the corner of the room, his gaze glued to his mother while he asked, “You still have the fake two-headed coin?”
“I’m not saying anything without a lawyer.”
“Chill. You want to get out of convention duty?”
Derrick eyed him suspiciously. “Of course.”
“Then let me flip the coin. I need to stay in town.”
“Are you crazy? Still on pain meds?”
“No. I have a lead on Esposa.”
His brother stilled.
“He’s close, Derrick. I have to stick around and see what I can dig up. The convention will be a great cover.”
“I don’t know, Dyl. Are you up to this?”
“I haven’t thought of anything else since I woke up after surgery and found out Eddie was gone.”
“I get it, but you’re too close, man. And your bosses wouldn’t go for it.”
“Esposa’s been in the wind too long. It’s now or never.”
Derrick went quiet. Mulling it over? No matter what his brother decided, Dylan was sticking around Cypress Pointe until he got some answers.
“I don’t like it, but okay. You need backup?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll only give you the coin if you promise to keep me in the loop. Call if you need anything.”
Dylan hated to get anyone else involved. This entire mess was on him and he intended to keep it like that.
“I can do that,” he assured his brother. “And another thing. Keep this between us. I don’t want going after Esposa to turn into a family affair. He’s mine.”
Derrick nodded.
“We’re good?” Dylan asked.
“We’re good,” his brother answered.
His mother turned her gaze toward him. “What are you two whispering about over there?”
“It’s nothing, Mom,” he replied. “Your workshop sounds exciting.”
Dante coughed.
“It is.” She stood, glancing at the gold-and-diamond wristwatch their father had given her on their last anniversary. “You boys have until tomorrow to decide who will attend the conference with me. Now, go back to your rooms and get changed. We’re meeting your aunt and uncle down at the beach in twenty minutes. They tell me the bonfire is lots of fun.” She took a long moment to glance at Dylan. “We don’t get together much anymore, so let’s enjoy ourselves.”
Dylan and his brothers filed out of the room. In the hallway, with the door closed and their conversation out of their mother’s earshot, Deke blurted, “When do we flip?”
Derrick pulled out a coin and flicked it in the air. “How about right now?”
“Not until we check the coin.” Dante reached out to grab it.
“Wait. Let me.” Dylan snatched the coin in midair and made a show of looking it over, first one side, then the other. “We’re good. Dante, you and Derrick go first.”
“Heads,” Dante called.
Dylan flipped the coin, and when it landed back in his hand, he said, “Heads. You’re out, Dante.”
His brother let out a long, relieved breath.
“Okay, Derrick and Deke.”
“Heads,” Deke called before Dylan tossed the coin. Again he read the face when it landed in his hand.
“Sorry, man. Derrick is safe.”
Derrick backed away. “Don’t ever punch me again.”
Dante snickered.
“Get it over with. Heads,” Deke said, pain etched on his face.
Just for fun, Dylan stretched out the suspense. “One. Two. Hey, Deke, did Mom really make you follow her around with the flower bucket last year?”
Deke glared at him. “Do it.”
Dylan chuckled. “Three.”
He sent the coin in the air. Four sets of eyes watched it twirl, each brother holding his breath at the outcome. Dylan captured the coin in his fist and snatched it to his chest. Opening his hand, he looked down. Closed his eyes.
“Well?” Deke asked.
Dylan held the coin up between his thumb and forefinger. “Heads. I lose.”
Deke slumped against the wall, clearly relieved. “You guys kill me.”
“Guess I have convention duty this year. Wish me luck,” Dylan told them.
Deke straightened. “It’s not so bad.”
Dylan lifted a brow.
“Okay, it is, but you’re injured. I