19. JW

NINETEEN

JW

"Thanks for coming," I say, shaking Fletch's hand. He called earlier today and asked if we could meet at the police department. Lawson was standing beside me when the call came through that Fletch landed earlier than expected. We both packed our shit up for the day, sent a message to our parents, and headed for my truck.

"Never a problem. Sucks I'm here on business and not for fun." Fletch and Lawson shake hands, then pull each other in for a hug. Those two have been friends a fuck of a lot of years. It doesn't matter that they live on either side of the country. They stay close in one way or the other.

"Next time. Where's Delilah?" Lawson asks.

"Last-minute client popped up and had a bit of an emergency over being audited. She's pissed as hell, but really, it works out better this way no matter what she says. I'll be working the majority of the time, and I'd be dumping her off with your family," Fletch states.

"They wouldn't mind," Lawson tosses out.

"Sure wouldn't. Right now, they're all at Whisked Away. I imagine they'll be coming home with a pile of boxes filled with treats." Michelle called after I dropped Mae at the store, stating all the girls from both families would be there and for me not to worry.

"Shit, now I'm really going to be in trouble." The last time Fletch was in town, he brought a box back from Maeve's, and Delilah has been hooked ever since like the rest of us.

"I'm sure she'll pack you a box to bring home." We walk into the station, one after the other.

"God, I hope. If not, I'll for sure be on the couch." Fletch shakes his head and then asks Marsha, the dispatcher and front desk assistant, "Good to go back?"

"Yep. Officer Leonard has moved everything into Room Three for you all."

"Hi, Mrs. Marsha," I say my hellos. She's been working for the police department for as long as I can remember. All of us boys have had our fair share of run-ins before the age of eighteen, and she's always been nice, even when we were being little dickwads.

"Hello, JW. Hello, Lawson. You boys staying out of trouble? "

"Hey, Mrs. Marsha. Yes, ma'am. My wife would kick my tail," Lawson replies.

"And you, JW?" I don't respond quickly enough.

"Yes, ma'am, pretty sure Maeve has no qualms about withholding my favorite dessert." I lift my lips in a smirk. Since we've been together, there hasn't been a day when cinnamon rolls aren't at the ready. It doesn't matter whose place we're at; she keeps me stocked. On the days we're at my place, I'm up before Mae is, getting morning chores done, then coming back home and waking her up with an orgasm. Half the time, it's with my tongue; the other, it's with my cock sliding inside her. The soft moan of her voice calling me daddy whispering in my bedroom fucking does it for me every single time.

"That's good. Glad you boys have strong women in your corner," Marsha finishes off the conversation, and we continue our path down the hall after she buzzes us through. The hallway has doors on either side; some are offices and others have room numbers on them. The lights are the bright fluorescent type, a stark comparison to the dark wood doors.

"Alright, take a seat and get comfortable," Fletch says, opening the door. Officer Leonard and the chief of police Aiden Rice is sitting at the round table. Aiden at the head, Leonard to his left, and Fletch heads for the right side. That leaves two chairs for Lawson and me. I'm re- thinking keeping Maeve out of the loop at this point. She should be here; I've kept her in the dark to protect her, but how the fuck can I keep her away if I don't talk to her? Tonight, that's going to change, especially once they tell us everything they've got on this Clayton dude.

"JW, Lawson," Sergeant Rice acknowledges us, reminiscent of being in the principal's office when I haven't done a damn thing wrong. I nod my head at him and Leonard, ready to get this fucking show on the road. "I'm going to let Fletch take the floor. He's done most of the legwork, and we're here as support more than anything."

As soon as Lawson and I take our seats, Fletcher starts the conversation. "Clayton Smith, also known as Clayton Deveraux, also known as Clayton Jansen, also known as Clayton Masters. I think you get the hint." He takes a moment for us to digest the news he just announced as well as sliding a sheet of paper to both of us with his mugshot.

"This guy looks familiar," I say to the group.

"He's a realtor a few towns over. The man is a con-artist through and through. Clayton whatever his name is finds women on a dating app, meets them for dinner, wines and dines them. If things go well, he keeps at it. If they don't, he's on his way to his next victim." I keep thinking about this guy. He looks awfully like someone I've seen before .

"Pay attention," Lawson mutters under his breath. My eyes go back to Fletcher's.

"Here's where it gets worse. These women are so snowballed with his good looks and his doting ways, he gets in there so deep he has them thinking he's in love with him. Some he marries, others he doesn't, leaving each and every one of them high and dry. A pile of debt in most cases or with absolutely nothing. The women he married then divorced are shit out of luck. Not so much as a police report can help with the places he chooses to find them. He also isolates them until family and friends aren't around. It's a form of abuse, but all mentally and emotionally. That shit makes it damn hard for evidence. The others filed a report, so we get ahold of him, it'll be felony after felony building onto this case." Fletch flattens his hand on the table. "The victims probably won't see a dime. Every time the police departments get close to catching him, he disappears. Where Clayton is now, over in Northpeak, it's the longest he's been in a place. As soon as the judge signs the warrant, we're rolling out." He finishes telling us what's going on and what he found.

"Motherfuckin' fuck. I know where I saw this guy." I stand up, reaching for my phone in my pocket, looking at the clock, and realizing the time. "I've gotta go. That piece of shit was out with Maeve. She's at Whisked Away without a car, and I'm her only ride." I start pacing back and forth, pissed at myself, pissed at the situation, and pissed at this motherfucking fuck, Clayton-alias-after-alias bag of fucking dicks.

"Brother, calm down. Juni sent me a text. They were done for the day. Maeve is at your place. Whisked Away is locked up tight. But come on, let's get outta here." Law places his hand on my shoulder to stop my pacing.

"I'll be out at the ranch as soon as we get a few things narrowed down. Don't go off half-cocked, yeah?" Fletch looks at me, knowing if he were in my shoes, nothing would stop him from going after the man who's tried to ruin his woman's life.

"He won't," Lawson says, but he knows I fucking will if we don't get back to the ranch.

"Alright, get outta here," Fletch says. We nod to Rice and Leonard. I only have one thought on my mind, and that's getting home to Mae.