Hearts and Aces (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 7) Kaylie Hunter (books to read this summer TXT) 📖

Bones laughed as he went into the kitchen.

Bridget sat next to me at the dining room table. “You know, the pharmaceutical company that Miguel owns sells a sleep aid.”

I looked back at Bridget, thinking it over. “They might not realize they’re drugged and do something dangerous.”

“I thought of that. We could make an anonymous call and warn them after ten minutes or so.”

“Still too risky,” I said, shaking my head. “Someone could get hurt. Does the pharmaceutical company sell anything other than sleep aids?”

She shook her head. “It’s a small company. They have a lot of drug trials in progress, waiting for approvals, but the sleep aid is the only one on the market at this point.”

“Lie,” Wild Card said.

“Explain,” I said, following his one-word language.

“Don’t bother switching the catering order. Do the anonymous-call thing and say the drug was in the food. People will still panic. Hell, some of them will probably get diarrhea worrying about it, but you don’t actually need to drug anyone.”

“We still can’t control the narrative. What if the receptionist who takes the message runs out the door before sharing the information?”

“Email alert,” Bones said, walking over with a cup of coffee for Bridget and himself. “Email the employees warning them that the baked goods were exposed to the sleeping aid.”

“Ooh,” Bridget said. “That’s good. Everyone who works there with a computer will be talking about it. It will spread through the rumor mill to the textile mill in no time.”

I nodded, liking the idea. “And mass employee panic will cause at least half the employees to go home sick.”

“See? Teamwork!” Tweedle said, clapping.

I shook my head at her. “You are way too perky in the morning.”

“Eat your fruit and play nice,” Wild Card said as he set a plate of fruit between Bridget and me.

“Ignore her, Tweedle,” Bones said. “She’s a bitch when she hasn’t gotten enough sleep.”

“Only then?” Tech mumbled.

“Cut her some slack guys,” Wild Card said. “Nicholas had a rough night. It wasn’t pretty.”

“He okay?” Tech asked.

“He will be,” I said, repeating Wild Card’s line from earlier.

Maggie appeared at the top of the basement stairs. “Someone needs to find me coffee. Donovan’s couch is horrible. I woke with the worst kink in my neck.”

Maggie’s hair was standing in every direction possible. Yesterday’s makeup was smeared an inch under her eyes. And her once nicely pressed blouse and skirt were wrinkled beyond recognition.

“So much for that beauty sleep, aye, Maggie?” I said.

“Bite me,” she said as Wild Card handed her a cup of coffee.

I smiled back at Maggie. “Now that’s the attitude I can appreciate in the morning.”

Maggie started to walk into the dining room but stopped, turned, and openly inspected Wild Card from head to toe. “Did you become gay overnight or were you always gay?” she asked him.

Wild Card smirked but didn’t say anything as he flipped pancakes.

I laughed into my coffee cup. “He looks like a ballet dancer, right? Those sweats are practically eating his ass.”

“It’s a nice ass, no matter which way he’s swinging this morning,” Maggie said as she walked in and sat down.

Tyler walked into the kitchen through the garage door and dropped a duffle bag. Without saying anything, he turned and left out the same door.

Wild Card walked over and opened the door. “Thank you, Tyler.”

“No sweat, man. Keep the clothes you borrowed, though. I know you’re riding commando.”

Wild Card closed the door and grabbed the duffle. “Tweedle, watch the pancakes, will you?”

“You betcha,” she said as he ducked into the guest bathroom.

“Why was he wearing Tyler’s clothes?” Bones asked.

I couldn’t help my cheeks heating as I tried to focus on starting my laptop. “Because it covered more of him than the towel he was wearing before that.”

Maggie leaned back and closed her eyes. “I have this amazing image in my head.”

“Me too,” Tweedle said, giggling as she set a plate of pancakes beside Tech.

“Shipping records are printing.” Tech nodded to the printer, moving the plate of pancakes out of range from Bones and cutting a huge chunk which he folded and stuffed into his mouth.

Whiskey walked halfway down the stairs before stopping and looking around. He turned to me and sighed.

“I know.” I nodded back at him. “This is supposed to be our quiet time.”

“It’s the only time of the day that isn’t crazy,” he said, pouting.

Tweedle met him at the bottom of the stairs like a housewife from a fifty’s sitcom, wearing an apron and handing him a cup of coffee, a bright smile plastered on her face. “Good morning, Whiskey.”

Whiskey glanced at me again.

“Just go with it,” I said, holding my cup up as Tweedle made the rounds with the coffee pot.

“What are we doing this morning?” Maggie asked, looking at the papers scattered about.

“We’re finalizing a plan of attack. We’ve narrowed it down to sabotaging a semi filled with textiles and emailing the employees at the mill that their morning bakery treats were exposed to the pharmaceutical company’s sleep aid. We’re hoping it will cause a mass panic.”

Maggie took a drink of her coffee before looking over at me. “Can I be honest?”

I looked toward the ceiling and thought about it. On one hand, I appreciated Maggie’s candor. On the other, I wasn’t sure I was fueled with enough caffeine for her honesty. Either way, she was going to tell me, so I might as well get it over with.

“Hit me with it.”

“I’ve always respected you, Harrison, but you’ve finally let me down. That’s the most juvenile plan I’ve ever heard. Sabotaging a truck? Planting a fake rumor? You are hoping people panic?” Maggie rolled her eyes. “You can do better.”

“But