Kain:Thank you. Anything new?
He’d been investigating the Boston Harbor Hotel explosion and the homicide case involving the woman in the alley holding a bouquet of red roses. They hadn’t identified her yet.
Detective McNally:Not yet. Will keep you posted.
Kain:Appreciate it.
I stared at Eva’s number, wondering if I should call her today. I’d stopped by the flower shop the day after the hotel incident to check on her, but the sales associate named Sarah told me Eva was on vacation. I would’ve stopped by again, but I had to travel to San Diego for the grand opening of Body Canvas. An investor wanted me to make my franchise public, but I refused. I didn’t need the money or the headache of dealing with investors. Body Canvas was mine, and I liked the creative control over it.
I’d be here for a month, doing interviews with the local news stations and meeting potential collaborators for future business. The tattoo franchise had grown in popularity, and I couldn’t be happier about that.
If my mother were still alive, she’d be living her dream life right now.If only I could have stopped my bastard of a father.Not wanting him to ruin my mood, I shoved him aside.
My fingers itched as I stared at my phone, wanting to send Eva a text message. What was she doing? She hadn’t left my thoughts since that first encounter. She seemed so different from the other women I’d dated, but that hadn’t stopped her from overwhelming my senses from the moment I first saw her in her shop. She took control of my body in a way no one else had. The hotel event only confirmed my attraction to her.
Even though she’d rejected me, I wasn’t giving up. As a businessman, I understood that patience was the key to everything. Still, that didn’t mean I couldn’t send her a friendly text to see how she was doing.
I typed up a message but stopped when Newton approached my table. Bald and stocky, he wore a striped short-sleeved shirt with jeans and black-rimmed glasses.
“Sorry I’m late. There was an accident, so I had to take a detour.” He took off his gray shoulder bag and placed it on the chair beside him, folding himself into the chair across from me.
“No worries.” I placed my phone face down.
We’d exchanged several conversations before I knew I had to meet Newton. My research on him showed he lived with his girlfriend and six cats; they had adopted them all from the local shelter. Both were computer programmers at a software company and enjoyed playing WaterFyre Rising. That earned him points because I knew the group of men who’d developed it.
I leaned into the table, staring into blue eyes. “What do you have to show me?”
He dug into his shoulder bag, pulled out a folder, placed it on the table, and pushed it over to me. I opened the folder, and unease gripped me. The ten images showed an aged man resembling Tony Hesselberg. Perhaps he’d gotten lucky and survived the explosion. He could have answers for me.
I examined the printouts. “Do you know his location?”
“Not yet.” He pushed his glasses up. “Give me another week and I’ll get it for you.”
“Send me these image files. When I receive them, half the payment will be deposited into your account the following day. Once I get his location, you’ll get the balance.”
Newton glanced around, making sure no one was near our table. “Did he do something bad to you or your family?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because you’re payinga lotof money for him. I’m just curious.”
“Don’t be too curious. Curiosity kills the cat.”
“Everything on the dark web is for the curious cat.” Newton’s lips curved into a smirk. “But I get it. You’re telling me to stay safe. You wanted info, and I delivered. Most people wouldn’t care about my wellbeing. So, thanks.”
As a graduate of Stanford University, he possessed intelligence and practicality. But an elite education meant shit to me. Some elites lacked common sense.
“Do you need me to look up anything else for you?”
“Don’t you have enough to do?” I could use his efficiency.
“I do.” He lifted a shoulder. “But you care about cats, so I want to help you.”
I chuckled. “I’d like details about any strange deaths on the West Coast, especially those with cult hallmarks. If you can organize a chart for me, that would be great. I’m particularly interested in cases similar to the Black Rose Killer.”
Newton widened his eyes, probably wondering what I’d do with the information.
“I’m doing extensive research for a book,” I said.
