Page 81 of Viper

“And you told Spencer?”

“Yes. He looked me straight in the eye and told me I was crazy.” She let out a rude laugh. “Who’s the crazy one now?”

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she dashed them away with her palm. If Troy weren’t so afraid she’d stop talking, he’d have gotten her a tissue.

“What’s your name?” Striker asked.

“Lettie.”

“Do you mind if I let my men in? They’re just going to have a look around.”

Her gaze sharpened. “I told you, that bastard’s not here. There’s nothing for you to look for and⁠—”

“Ma’am,” Troy said, stepping closer to the couch. “My girlfriend, Paige, his sister”—he nodded toward Striker—“is missing. Craig tried to kill her on his boat the other night. That’s why the police are after him.”

Her jaw dropped. “Ohmigod. And Spencer helped him?”

“From what we know, yeah,” Striker said calmly. “He was involved.”

More tears streamed down her face. She choked on a sob. “I don’t know how I let this happen. I married a monster.” The words came out on a low cry as she stroked her baby’s cheek.

“It’s not your fault. But please, let my guys look around. We won’t ruin anything or touch anything personal. We just need to look for clues to find Craig—before he does to Paige what he did to Annamay,” Striker said.

Lettie’s mouth trembled. “Okay. Our bedrooms are upstairs. Craig stayed in the basement the other night.”

“Thank you.” Troy nodded at Striker, and he and Havoc went to the door to let in Wraith and Reaper. They kept their weapons low and headed upstairs.

Troy stayed where he was.

The baby let out a cry and Lettie stood, cradling the infant to her chest. “I need to get him a bottle. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Sure.”

He watched her walk to the kitchen. Lettie seemed to be genuinely upset and telling the truth, but he’d witnessed a lot of people go to great lengths to protect their loved ones from persecution.

Lettie took a bottle from the fridge and warmed it up, bouncing her son on her hip and crooning to him the whole time. Minutes later, she returned with the baby cradled in her arm and the bottle in his mouth. She paced around the living room, swaying and rocking him. The guys came back to the main level before moving to the basement.

Lettie looked at Troy. “He’s asleep now.”

He took that to mean he could ask more questions. “We came here because we knew Spencer’s cruiser was parked out front. Did he take a different vehicle when he left?”

She nodded. “We have a garage in the back with alley access. He parked out front and came in to say he needed to run an errand and would pick up his work car in an hour.”

“When was that?”

She glanced at the clock ticking on the wall. “Almost two hours ago.”

“Who’s vehicle is out there now?” Troy asked, referring to the small sedan they’d seen.

“Mine,” she said without pause.

“What kind of car does Spencer drive?”

She gave him the make and model, and he entered this information, along with the plate number, in his phone.

“Have you tried to call him?” he asked.

Lettie had stopped crying, and some of the redness had left her youthful cheeks, but sadness fell over her face. “No.”