Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
He doesn’t smell like gasoline, but he smells of stale liquor and smoke. “Hey, buddy. Let me have a word with you.” He gets skittish, crawling backward, and dropping his precious booze. “Now why did you have to go and do that for? I just have some questions for you.”
Quickly, he reaches for the dropped bottle, but I snag it first and hold the remaining drops hostage. “I’m looking for the young lady who lived there. Did someone take her?”
“No…” His voice is weak as he watches his precious liquor, wondering if I’ll dump it.
“Listen. This could be to your benefit to give me the right answers.”
His eyes meet mine with fierce intent. “I don’t want you to hurt her. She’s a good girl. Not like that mother of hers,” he snarls, spitting toward the burnt-out trailer.
“Tell me where she is,” I insist because I don’t owe this man a damn thing but a chance to give me the answers I want before I lose my shit and do more than destroy his booze.
“I don’t know. She left this morning in the dark…before the fire.”
“Tell me everything that happened.”
“I don’t know what happened.” This guy is pissing me off because he holds the key to where my woman went. Did she leave with someone else?
“Do you want more booze or not?” I ask him.
The dim look in his eyes dissipates, and a glint of joy takes over. “More?”
“Yes, I’ll give you a thousand dollars right now if you can remember more.”
“You promise not to hurt her?” I like his resolve to protect my woman, but she’s my woman to take care of. I nod and then show him the money.
“Well, she changed her clothes into some regular ones instead of that slutty stuff her mother wears, and she ran off, slinking away up to the exit. I was hoping she wasn’t ending up like her. She told me she wasn’t. She grabbed her suitcase and hid when she saw a black vehicle like yours come in. Once it passed her by, she took off and jumped on a bus. That’s all I know.”
“Did you see who got out of the vehicle?”
He shakes his head. “No, I went to take a leak.”
“That’s good. Here you go.”
He takes it and starts counting as I pull out my phone. “Don’t hurt her. She’s a good one.”
“Don’t worry about her anymore. She’s my concern now.” I walk away after shooting a text to Martín for assistance. Sliding into my SUV to figure out how the fuck I’m going to find her, I get a reply from Martín that his people will look into it. Candy will be found soon. Make no mistake, I will find her and when I do, I’m not sure how forgiving I’ll be.
Suddenly sirens blare right behind me and my driver pulls over.
Chapter Six
Sebastian
I’m arrested before I leave the trailer lot and am down at the Las Vegas PD, sitting in an interrogation room waiting for my attorney, who is already on his way the moment Cesar gives him a call.
This day has gone from bad to worse, but I have no patience for this Barney Fife fucker who plants his hands on the interrogation table, trying to stare me down. I want to kick him in the balls and slam his smug face into the glass mirror where I’m sure others are watching, so they understand who they’re dealing with.
“Do you want to tell me why you were at the residence shortly after the fire?” the same pencil dick from the scene asks, acting like he didn’t get that answer from me before.
Damn, do I really want to bash his head into the table for pulling this bullshit on me in the first place. “I told you fucking earlier, you asshole. I was looking for Candy Bell, and I assure you, your badge will be mine if you don’t let me go. There isn’t an ounce of evidence that I was a part of that arson and murder.”
“Were you in that trailer any time before the fire?” he asks as if he paid no attention to anything I said.
“No. I haven’t been inside at all.”
“Funny, because we have your fingerprints on file, Mr. Diaz, and our onsite techs ran them.” Someone set me up. A thought makes me believe it was Martín, but then he wouldn’t have me linger around the hotel, cultivating a perfect alibi while the fire was blazing.
No, it was my men. It had to have been because they watched and did nothing last night, leaving me at the mercy of whatever was in my drink. Was my brother involved in this? I haven’t heard from him all day. Not even a teasing message about getting laid, and he’s the asshole who brought these women to our table. I doubt my brother has the balls to do something like this on his own, but I will find out.