Page 48 of Viper

“What’ve we got on this guy?” Havoc asked, balling the paper from his sandwich and tossing it into the trash. They each had their laptops out while they worked.

Troy sighed and stretched his arms over his head. “Fuck all.”

“Not true,” Striker countered, pointing at the laptop sitting in front of him. “We have that footage of him taking off on foot through the parking lot and heading west.” They’d hacked into the surveillance system of the gift shop next to the restaurant.

Havoc curled his lip. “Sounds like fuck all. Move over.”

Striker stood from his chair. “I wasn’t done. He entered the back door of a marijuana dispensary at the other side of the parking lot—someone opened the door and let him in.”

“No shit,” Havoc said. “Let’s pay them a visit. You got us a name?”

“Well, it’s hard to know exactly who he spoke to. The range on the footage wasn’t great. Just shows a man waiting at the door. Might have been bald, but again, difficult to say.”

Maybe they had more than fuck all to go by, but even if they could find out who Craig had talked to, the guy would likely be tight-lipped.

He had no issues being persuasive, though.

“Let’s find out who the owner is.” Havoc threaded his fingers and gave them a crack before tapping on the keyboard. Five minutes later, he smirked with satisfaction. “William Barre is the owner of Weed the Deed. Do you think this was who you saw?”

He turned the laptop toward them, revealing the man’s driver’s license.

Troy leaned close to the screen and studied the image of the bald man with glasses and a wide nose. The information next to the photo showed he was born in 1983, had brown eyes, and was five foot eleven.

“I think that’s him,” Striker said. He typed something into his phone. “Looks like Weed the Deed is open until four.”

“We can head there now,” Wraith said, standing.

They shut down their computers and grabbed their weapons. Troy had a screenshot of Craig’s wanted notice to show William. Just in case he suddenly had amnesia regarding who he’d been with last night.

They stopped at the pool on the way to the garage and found Paige swimming down one of the lanes. Reaper sat in a white lounger in the shade, a towel behind his head and his lemonade glass nearly empty.

Troy filled him in on what they’d found. “Think you can stick around with her for a while? Let her swim and whatever.”

Reaper used his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, his mouth twisted with disdain. “You seriously gonna make me miss all the action?”

“Yeah, I am.”

He scoffed. “Whatever. I’ll remember that.”

Troy chuckled and turned his attention back to the pool. Paige swam up to the ledge and rested her forearms on the concrete. Her hair was slicked back from her face, and water droplets glistened on her golden tan. Her eyes shone at him with glee.

“Did you come down to swim?” she called.

He made his way to the side of the pool and knelt. “’Fraid not, sexy. I need to run out for a bit.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Did you find him?”

“No, but we’ve got a lead.”

The corner of her mouth turned down. “Will you be long?”

“Nah. Should be back in time for dinner. Want to grill something?”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. She flattened her palms on the cement and hoisted herself out of the water, balancing on the ledge and leaning toward his lips. This time she wore a cherry-red two-piece. Her cleavage spilled from the top, and the barely there bottoms did all kinds of shit to his cock.

He kissed her salty lips and traced his finger along the top of her bottoms. Chlorine wafted to his nostrils, and he’d never been so fucking turned on by the smell.

She giggled and dropped back into the water. “You’re trouble, Viper.”