Icy arrows of fear shot through his veins. What had he missed last night? “Jason. Level with me. What happened?”
A long sigh carried across the phone line. “I’m getting there. Sorry, Dex. It’s been a long night. I knew you were going to have a long day today; that’s why I didn’t contact you when we were in the thick of it. If we hadn’t heard from you by nine a.m. I would’ve touched base.” Tanner’s exhaustion and frustration were clear, and both twisted Dex’s stomach into knots. “I can’t say for sure if they are directly related, but my gut tells me that putting you in The Dungeon opened up a whole can of shit-storm.”
Dex frowned as fingers of dread raced down his spine. He braced for whatever Jason would tell him next. The fact that Tanner sounded angry and stressed was a big concern. He was usually pretty unflappable. There had to be one hell of a clusterfuck for it to have this much effect on the man.
Dex turned onto a side street that would take him in the opposite direction of the town house. “That sounds pretty ominous. You’d better fill me in on what I missed.”
“After I spoke to you last night, reports began to trickle in, and then flood in.” The exhaustion in Jason’s voice clearly carried across the line. “Action all across the board. Attacks on the political, powerful, moneyed, and special-interest targets, large sums of cash being moved, and a few terrorist training cells kicking into high gear. We ended up raiding two of those last night.”
Dex clenched his fingers into tight fists as a long pause fell between them. Logically he knew that even if he’d sat at the FBI town house last night keeping tabs on everything, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything that his team hadn’t done without him. Guilt bit at him, nonetheless.
Jason cleared his throat. “We are still cleaning up loose ends all across the nation, but I think the worst is over. I hope.”
Dex’s mind whirled, as memories of last night spilled through him, along with no small measure of guilt that his team was out dealing with lots of other things while he had spent a very enjoyable night with Kate.
“Did you find out anything on your side, Dex?”
He blew out a slow breath. “Shapiro had asked me to find out anything I could about Kate’s involvement with Merestone Resorts and her graphic design work for them. This morning, she was up early completing work they wanted done before seven a.m. local time. Hiding nine turtles in their logo on the Houston page. Shapiro is looking for cash movements that correspond to that number somewhere in Houston.”
“Good. Being able to watch for it up front rather than looking for it after the fact may help shed some light.” He paused for a long moment. “The leads you found us this week with all the casual meetings were invaluable, by the way. Is there anything else?”
Dex slowed at the yellow light, and then stopped as it turned red. “Kate mentioned she’s been searching for another BDSM club. It sounds like she’s tired of L.A., and especially living in the same town as her overbearing father. She asked me since I had gone to Arizona State if I’d heard of Club Desire.” The light turned green, and Dex drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as a group of elderly jaywalkers slowly traversed the crosswalk in front of him. A few cars honked behind him, and he ignored them.
“What did you tell her?”
Dex sipped his coffee and then lifted his foot off the brake when the last pedestrian was clear.
“Bare bones. It’s a great dungeon. I’ve played there before. I didn’t mention that I’m part owner. I told her if she was interested in joining, I could get her a meeting with the owner.”
“Good.” Some of the tension seemed to leave Tanner’s voice. “We’ve been making sure Club Desire pops up in her search results, and have even dropped in references in nonspecific web searches where it wouldn’t seem too obvious.”
Dex would have to ask his team about that last part. Kate was smart, and she obviously thrived in the world of graphic design with one foot in IT. If search results popped up where they shouldn’t, it might set off alarm bells with her. But since she had seemed so interested in what Club Desire was like, she might have taken those as more signs from the universe that she was supposed to check it out. He hoped so.
Jason cleared his throat. His voice was rough, as if he had used it too much in the last twenty-four hours. The sound of wind against the mic had died down. “Did Miss Fretwell say when she plans on moving, or checking out Club Desire?”