Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Nah, I think you did the right thing. I don’t wanna see anything happen to her, but at the end of the day, she’s her own woman. But she’s fighting for her brother, and it just pisses me off to sit around waiting for something to happen.”
“We could go pick Mullerby up,” Scrapper suggests with a grin.
I tilt my head, considering.
“I was joking.”
Mack runs his tongue over his teeth and scratches his beard. “Hm. I do know where he lives. Mila showed me on the map.”
Scrapper looks back and forth between us. “Seriously?”
I pull out my phone and look the asshole up. Hank Mullerby with his optimistic comb-over stares up at us from the city’s website. He doesn’t look like a criminal mastermind, but a lot of people in this world who’ve never thrown a punch don’t mind paying to make violence happen.
“I think we should drop by.” I grin at the others. “Ask a few questions of our own.”
“Nothing else on my calendar. I'm in,” Scrapper agrees.
We recruit Clink, one of the newer prospects, to watch City Hall and give us a heads up when Mullerby leaves. The kid’s still fresh enough that he can blend, and he’s eager to help. Then it’s just a matter of arranging to meet him in the man’s own driveway.
It’s a nice place on the outskirts of Blackworth. Twenty years ago it wouldn’t be strange for a public attorney to live here, but if he bought a few years ago? Yeah, Mila’s right. It’s no mansion, but it’s out of his price range.
His car pulls up, and the gate opens, followed by his garage. We slide in from the other direction. If he’s a criminal, he’s not a very good one. He’s about as observant as a blind cow. The guy gets out of his car with earbuds in, not paying any attention to the fact that there are three strangers right behind him.
The three of us share an amused look.
I pull my piece and tap him on the shoulder.
Mullerby gasps like a fucking girl and spins around. He drops his briefcase and backs into the side of his car. “Who are you? What are you doing here? I think you have the wrong house!”
Scrapper walks around his car and hits the button to close the garage door and give us some privacy. “I don’t think so, man. Pretty sure you’re who we’re looking for.”
“Does the name Mila Cole ring a bell?” I tap his chin with the barrel of my gun.
Mullerby’s eyes go wide and I see a glint of understanding in that useless head. “I have no idea what you are talking about. If this is about one of my cases, I assure you that I do my very best to—”
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Mack snaps. “Drop the act. We know you met with her. The question is, are you the one we’re looking for?”
“Please don’t hurt me,” he whimpers.
“Why would we hurt you? You don’t even know her, right?” Scrapper grinds a fist into his palm, eager to get Mullerby talking. “But I'm pretty fucking sure you're lying to us. One more try.”
Mullerby tries to slide his way down the side of the car, probably hoping to get to an alarm. Mack grabs him by the collar and lifts him right off the fucking ground, slamming him against the car. Mullerby grunts and his glasses fall off. I’m pretty sure there’s going to be a lawyer sized dent in the door when we’re done.
“We’re not done talking to you.”
“No, wait! Cole… Cole… I did have a student come by my office for a school project the other day. That could have been her? Has something happened to the poor girl?”
I spit on the floor next to his feet. “Yeah, shitstain. You. You happened to her. Or if you didn’t, this would be a good time to point us in the right direction.”
“Would you even—even believe me if I said no?” Mullerby stammers wild-eyed.
Scrapper laughs at the question. “Honestly, not really. But we're listening. I’d talk fast because when we start breaking shit, we’ll start with you.”
“Jesus Christ,” he whispers. “Look, she came by my office. We talked about my record. She started spouting nonsense and I kicked her out. If she’s been attacked, maybe she needs to start considering her methods. I’m sure you gentlemen would agree with me that a young girl needs to be careful with the sorts of accusations she throws around.”
Mack slams him again and his head bounces against the roof of the car. “We never said she was attacked. You know what? Fuck this shit. You're coming with us.”
“Wha—what? No, where are you—”
I pull a rag out of my pocket and shove it in his mouth, then fix it in place with duct tape. “Let’s go. I think some time in the pit will be good for him.”