Vegas Aces: The Wide Receiver Complete Series

CHAPTER 12 TRISTAN

Me: How are you feeling?

I keep my Monday morning text to Tessa casual, but I have to know how she’s feeling after her rough weekend.

Her reply comes quickly.

Tessa: Exhausted but otherwise fine. Thanks for checking. I miss you.

I don’t respond as I type out a message in a different conversation…this one to my mother.

Me: I’m ready.

I send the text, and less than a minute later, a bunch of photos come through.

She was waiting for me, and she came through.

But that’s what moms are for, right?

My heart thunders in my chest as I look at the first image she sent.

Certificate of Birth.

My eyes go to the first line. Child’s Name.

Handwritten in the small space is the name Logan James Wesley.

Father James Wesley.

Mother Miranda Wesley.

The birth certificate makes no mention of the biological parents.

I look at the next page, and it has James and Miranda Wesley’s current address listed in Chicago, Illinois. It also lists their phone numbers and email addresses.

It makes sense since that’s where Tessa was sent to have the baby. She lived there for almost seven years, and he was right under her nose.

I wonder if she has looked at these papers. I wonder if she’s gotten in touch. I wonder if she has looked them up on Facebook like I’m tempted to do.

I can’t see her doing that without me…and yet I’m sitting here wondering if I should.

My phone notifies me of a new text while I’m still staring at the contact information. There are more images my mother sent me, likely with the information about the adoption agency and who knows what else, but I click to answer the text when I see who it is.

Richard Redmond: Is now a good time to talk?

Me: Yes.

“Good morning, Richard,” I answer when my phone rings ten seconds later.

“Tristan, hi. Got your message. What’s going on?” he asks.

“My ex-wife interrupted my wedding with information that I have a child that I didn’t know about,” I begin. “He was given up for adoption, but she couldn’t have gotten this information using legal means. The records were sealed. If I could prove she did something criminal to get her hands on them, what are we looking at?”

“I’d need more information, obviously, but considering the fact that she has moved and crossed state lines, both of which are issues while on probation, you’ve already got a case against her,” he says. “Add even a misdemeanor to that, and she’ll be looking at prison, especially given the EPA’s issues with her last offense that landed her on probation in the first place.”

“She isn’t allowed to cross state lines?” I ask.

“Not unless she was granted approval. She could drive, obviously, and likely hide it versus flying, where there are records of everyone on board.”

“She was in Iowa,” I murmur. “I have plenty of people who could corroborate that.”

“What’s your angle here?”

“I want her to pay for her crimes.” My voice sounds tired even to me, and it’s because I’m so fucking done with her. I’m so fucking sick of her shit. “She has done nothing but make my life hell since I married her, and I’m just done with her getting away with the shit she pulls.”

“Send me whatever evidence you have, and I’ll get my team on it. She’ll pay, Tristan. We’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks, Richard,” I say, and I cut the call.

I still need to find out how she got that information, and it’s with that in mind that I send her a text.

Me: Are you free for lunch today?

She writes back almost immediately.

Savannah: I’m always available for you, baby.

Gross.

I think about where to meet her. I don’t want to invite her to Travis’s place, but I don’t want to go anywhere public, either.

I guess public is safer. I pick a place close to where I’m at now.

Me: O’Leary’s at noon?

Savannah: I’ll be there.

I walk in a little before noon and grab a corner booth tucked away from the action—not that there’s much action at a sports bar on a Monday before noon.

I’m halfway through my first beer when she walks in, and I call the server over immediately so I can start plying Savannah with alcohol as she slides into the booth across from me.

“You pick up drinking since the divorce?” she asks. She leans in a little. “Does it help ease the pain?”

I sigh. This is going to be a long fucking lunch.

Eye on the prize, Higgins. Keep focused.

The truth is I need it to dull her prickly edges, but I can’t exactly admit that to her. “Nah, just on break so I’m having a little fun.” I hold up my glass and chug the rest down, and when the server brings by Savannah’s wine, I order another along with my standard chicken and veggies meal.

Savannah orders a salad with no dressing, and it makes me miss my cheeseburger and fry eater back in Iowa.

“So what have you been up to?” I ask.

“Oh, you know. A little of this, a little of that. I’ve started working with charities. My probation officer says it looks good.” She lifts a shoulder.

“Where are you living?”

She laughs. “Like you care. Come on, Tris. What’s this lunch really about?”

I blow out a long breath as I glance down at the table then up to meet her eyes. It’s Go Time , Higgins. “I guess I just want to thank you.” I’m lying through my teeth, and I hope she buys what I’m selling.

Her brows shoot up. “Thank me?” She sets a hand modestly on her chest. “For what?”

“For unapologetically telling the truth.” I grab my phone out of my pocket and pretend to check a message. “Sorry, Travis has been texting me all morning.” I act like I’m silencing it as I quickly open the voice recording app and hit record, and then I set my phone on the table face down.

She laughs—cackles, really—and then her eyes move to mine. “Oh, Tris.” She pauses when she sees I’m not laughing. “Wait. You’re serious?”

I nod. “I can see now that you were just doing what was best for me. You wanted me to know the truth about my past. You wanted me to know that I was with the wrong woman, and you were right. I never should have been with someone who could so easily lie and manipulate me.” She has no idea that I’m actually talking about her with those words, not Tessa. But I’m letting her believe what she wants so I can get the truth out of her. “I just have to know something. It’s been eating away at me. How the hell did you find all this out?”

She shrugs. “It was easy. I’ve known the stuff about Tessa awhile. People talk when they’re offered money, and I started interviewing people in your town. Tiffany was one of the first, and when she told me your girlfriend had disappeared under mysterious circumstances, it became my mission to uncover those circumstances.”

Tiffany Fucking Gable.

Of course it started with her. When she and Savannah were talking during the craft fair, they must’ve already known each other.

People talk when they’re offered money . Is that considered bribery? I guess if she threatened to expose something it might be, but that’s also blackmail…something she has plenty of experience with.

“I did it for you, baby. We didn’t have the best marriage, but I want you back. I want to try again.” She looks up at me from lowered lashes, and it’s frankly disgusting.

She is disgusting.

But I have to play her game. “I want that, too. I want to be with someone I trust, and you’ve proven that I can trust you.”

She looks surprised as her eyes meet mine. “You…you do? You want to get back together?”

“It’ll take some work, but the charity event, and lunch today—they’re leading us somewhere, you know?” I leave out the fact that they’re leading us to the evidence I need to fucking bury her.

Maybe I should call up Victor Bancroft and let him know he should cast me alongside him in his next movie, because I’m giving an Oscar-worthy performance right now.

She nods.

“You just keep proving I can trust you, okay? That’s what’s going to make this work.” I chug more beer, doing my best to fill my mouth so I don’t say the wrong thing.

“There was a nurse at the hospital…she was newer, but she had all the hot goss for me.”

“The hot goss?” I ask, my brows crinkling in confusion.

“Gossip,” she says as if I’m stupid. “Anyway, this nurse hates her job. Totally regrets getting into nursing, so I told her I could give her some money if she spilled what she knew. It’s all about finding out what motivates people, you know? I guess her aunt worked at the same hospital years and years ago, and she talked about how great it was, blah blah blah. Anyway she told her a story of this poor girl who had to give up her baby, and the trail led me to a private adoption agency. I turned on the charm and got the papers. Voila.”

“You turned on the charm?” I ask, sickened by her story and her complete and utter lack of a conscience.

“Don’t be mad, especially since we’re working our way back to each other, but I figured out what motivated the guy at the agency. One rather lackluster blow job later and he suddenly had a whole lot to say.” She shrugs, clearly not regretting what she did to obtain the papers my mom sent me this morning. “He didn’t have anything, but he directed me to the place that did, and that’s where I took everything.”

“Thanks for all you did to help me,” I finally say.

Our food comes, but suddenly I’m not very hungry at all.

I don’t know what to do with this information, but I pretend another text from Travis comes through, and I quickly end the voice recording, save it, and attach it in a text to Richard along with a brief message: Hope this is enough for you.

I hit the record button again, and I pray she’ll say something else I can use so she’ll finally get what’s coming to her.