Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
I pause at the panel. What if the hired guns Antonio hired spread stories about the hard drive? Spread Simone’s name? They’d be able to get to them. Antonio was low level. He was clearly on drugs all the time. I doubt anybody would take him seriously, but is it worth the risk?
Maybe I’m giving myself an excuse. I touch the panel, swipe my thumb, and then start selecting features to activate fifteen seconds after I lock the door. Soundproofing, complete lockdown, subtle shifts in my glass, making it more difficult to see inside, even with lenses. Jack would be astounded. He was never rich enough to afford all these gadgets, at least when I knew him.
I don’t hang around long enough to second-guess myself. Demon walks at my side as I leave the apartment, lock the door, and enter the elevator. Two cops talk to the security guard as I walk across the lobby.
“Mr. King?” Tim, the security guard says, turning to me. “I’m sorry, sir…”
“Are you Mr. King? Jamie King?”
I stroke the top of Demon’s head. We’re standing just off to the side of the desk. This is an upscale building. A lady in a fur coat gives me a sour look as she clicks past on her heels like I give a damn.
“Yes, I am,” I say casually.
One of the cops is a tough-looking woman who looks like she’s got a bad attitude. She’s eyeing me up, lip curled. The other is a tall, lean man with soft eyes and a smile. I guess this is good cop, bad cop.
They give me their names. Good cop is O’Malley, and bad cop is Ramirez.
“Do you mind if we speak upstairs?” Ramirez says. “Most people prefer that.”
“Especially around these parts,” O’Malley says with too much cheeriness.
“I’d love to, but it would mean abusing the little man here.” I gesture to Demon. “Once he gets it into his head we’re going for a walk, he won’t accept anything else. Unless you’re down to wrestle with him, we should probably talk here.”
Ramirez flinches, glancing at her partner. I wonder if she’s trying to make detective. She’s definitely the keener of the two.
“Fair enough,” O’Malley says with a nervous laugh.
“Do you know Simone and Lena Harwood?” Ramirez asks bluntly.
“Yes. I dated her mother a while ago.”
“Define a while ago.”
I shrug. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you suffer from memory problems, Mr. King?”
O’Malley sucks in a breath. This isn’t how cops usually speak to people around here.
I just smile, presenting a confused man. “I can’t exactly remember.”
“Ha, ha,” she says drily. “The Harwoods are missing. Before Lena Harwood was last seen by her neighbor, she texted and called you, Jamie King.”
This is what I get for having a personal cell phone, not just burners. But these days, it’s more suspicious not to have one. I nod. “She did.”
“Our records show you spoke for some time.”
“Maybe a few minutes,” I say, leaning down and adjusting Demon’s collar as if none of this matters to me but not overselling it. That’s where most people would screw up.
“Would you mind telling us what was said?” Ramirez snaps.
“Lena was terrified because her mother had mentioned feeling uncomfortable around a possible cartel member at the casinos in Vegas the last time she spoke to her. His entire face was tattooed, apparently, and he was tall. She was babbling, in all honesty.”
O’Malley is eagerly writing this down. “What did the man look like? Any details? The names of the casinos?”
I give a basic description of Antonio, enough for it to be feasible for Lena to provide me with enough information quickly. “She didn’t mention any specific casinos. I’m sorry.”
“Why would she call you?” Ramirez asks. “You’re a stock trader, aren’t you? Move money around on a screen and make millions. It’s some gig.”
I don’t take the bait. I don’t give a damn about trading stocks, but if you can pay the right people, any money can seem legitimate. “I have a military background. I’d mentioned it to both Lena and her mother. Perhaps she thought I could help.”
“Hmm.” Ramirez nods, never taking her eyes off me. “But you didn’t call the police.”
I shake my head, confused. She’s overplayed her hand. “I assumed Lena would do that. I didn’t see it as my place.”
“Hmm.” She nods again. “There are also reports of a car pulling up outside the residence.”
They obviously didn’t get the plate, not yet, at least, but it wouldn’t help them anyway. None of my plates are registered in my name. It’s a risk, basically meaning I can never be pulled over, but cops tend to leave me alone. It helps that I never break the law when they’re watching.
I wait in silence. Most people break here. They feel a need to say something to save everybody from the awkwardness, but I wait until Ramirez snaps. “Do you know anything about that?”