Page 42 of Mr. Perfect

“I do,” Felix said. The most significant justification was keeping his friends out of the mafia’s crosshairs.

Cameron Spencer had built his sprawling auto mall along a busy four-lane highway, ensuring thousands of people saw his shiny new vehicles each day on their way to and from work or school. Many travelers would see the cars as a symbol of success. If they just worked hard enough, they could attain one of the sleek beasts for themselves. They could go anywhere and do anything. Driving meant freedom, which was the lifeblood pulsing through their veins. That made Cameron Spencer a bona fide hero. All he needed was a spandex costume, boots, and a fucking cape.

Felix nearly saluted the dealership from where he parked at Billy Rae’s Carpet and Flooring Emporium. It was located on the road behind the dealership, which gave Felix an advantage point to observe Spencer’s backlot, as well as some of the auto repair bays. Felix’s white, late ’90s cargo van fit in well with Billy Rae’s service vans. He’d bought it from the newspaper for dirt cheap when they replaced some of the vehicles in their fleet. It had a shit ton of miles and smelled like ink and paper, but it enabled Felix to blend in almost everywhere. There were so many white delivery and service vans on the road that they escaped most people’s notice, which was precisely what Felix counted on whenever he pulled it out of the barn behind his house.

“Daphne to murder van. Come in, Fred,” Rocky said through Felix’s earpiece.

Felix groaned. “Not theScooby-Dooshit again.”

Avery and Jonah had decided the podcast partners closely resembled the Mystery, Inc. gang. They dubbed him Fred since he was big on setting traps, Rocky was Daphne because his pretty face distracted people, Jonah declared himself as Shaggy, which left Avery, the smartest one, as Velma.

“For the record, you’re notthatpretty, Major,” Felix said.

“Felix prefers to call it his shaggin’ wagon instead of the Mystery Machine,” Jonah corrected.

Of course, Jonah had wanted a piece of the action when Rocky and Felix filled them in on everything after returning from Atlanta. Jonah, through his supercomputer Marla the Magnificent, also provided essential pieces of the puzzle. Felix was confident it was the link between Mercy and Spencer that Jude had dangled over his head. The new knowledge had almost made it easier for Felix to ignore the texts and emails he received from his nemesis throughout the day. He could’ve replied no to Jude’s suggestions, but it was so much more fun to make the man stew. Then again, when had anyone ever told Jude Arrow no? Felix was willing to bet it didn’t happen often.

Felix would be lying if he didn’t admit to the little thrills coursing through him when each of Jude’s invitations got racier, going from an offer to meet for lunch, followed by a dinner date request, and finally Jude provided a detailed accounting of where he would like to stick his tongue for dessert. The last one had kept arousal buzzing through Felix all day long. He remembered the first time Jude had run his tongue down Felix’s spine and hadn’t stopped at the top of Felix’s ass crack.

Wowzah.

Rocky’s laughter snapped Felix out of his fantasizing. “When the van starts rocking, don’t come knocking,” the private investigator suggested.

“Fuck both of you,” Felix groused.

“At the same time?” Rocky asked. “You think you got it in you, Freddie?”

“I object,” Avery said, making everyone laugh.

“I’m not after your man, Velma,” Felix said. “And I’ve never used this van to pick up guys.”

Rocky snorted. “He rolls up to the clubs and lures the twinks into his van. Bet he’s got carpeted walls and a waterbed in the back.”

“Do they even still make those?” Felix asked.

“How the hell would I know?” Rocky replied.

“If you’re going to accuse me of procuring one to seduce the twinks, then you must know if it’s a feasible thing. Are you talking to us from your waterbed right now?”

“Hardy har har,” Rocky said. “I’m at the Port of Savannah as we discussed.”

“I bet there’s a mini-fridge in the van for snacks,” Avery added. The newcomer still wasn’t sure how to take Rocky and Felix’s dynamic. He frequently mistook it as real hostility instead of friendly banter and often steered the conversation to safer topics. It was endearing and sweet.

“Now that sounds like a damn fine idea,” Felix said. “Stakeouts can be tedious and long.”

“So tedious,” Rocky agreed. “You have any movement at the dealership, Fred?”

Felix lifted his binoculars and scanned the entire rear of the compound. He saw the overflow of new cars that wouldn’t fit on the front lot, as well as a selection of used vehicles, varying in age and conditions. Some were probably awaiting minor repairs or detailing before resale while others would be hauled off to the scrap yard or an auction.

When setting up their mission, the guys had discussed the limitless possibilities of how Spencer’s dealership could be useful to Jack Mercy. Aside from the apparent transportation needs, trafficking was their number one guess. What was Mercy moving?

Drugs? Guns? People?

The last one made Felix physically ill every time the thought crept into his mind. A successful crime boss changed with the times to keep the money flowing and elude capture. It was possible Mercy dabbled in all of them.

“Everything is quiet here so far,” Felix said. He glanced at the clock and saw it was almost nine. It would be a while longer before they’d need to switch to the night vision goggles. Rocky had provided them along with the swivel earpieces with built-in microphones they were using. “How about you guys?”

“My end of the port is still pretty busy,” Rocky said. “Crews are still loading cargo onto the ships with cranes. What about you, Jonah?”