“Look,” she said, coming forward quickly, taking the gap. “I might have missed the client’s wife picking up Lover Boy at the airport, but her affair with him is clearly a long-term thing. And your big-shot client is always traveling out of town. It’s going to happen again. Next time I’ll be there waiting. I’ll get them on camera.”
“My clients will make you, Angie. It’ll just be a matter of time. Look at you. You’ve got distinct looks. That scar. That hair. That face. You’re all over the front pages and on television. If Norton finds out I put someone like you on his case, if his wife or her high-profile lover make you ...” He ran his hand over his balding pate. “Norton is our biggest client right now. He’s huge. If I can keep him happy, he will recommend CI. I just can’t let you fuck this up for everyone else.”
“I won’t. I’ve worked UC. I’ll wear cover, buy wigs. Change clothes. I candothis, Jock. Please. I’m better than half the guys you have on your crew, and you know it.”
He inhaled deeply.
“One.” She held up her index finger. “Just one last chance.”
He turned to the window and looked down to where her car was parked. A nice new Mini Cooper she was paying off. Creamy white with distinctive stripes down the side.
“I’ll get another vehicle,” she said quickly. “I’ll use rentals that suit the job in question. On my own dime.”
She saw his shoulders dip as he released his chestful of air, and she almost began to breathe, anticipating him relenting.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Thatwasyour last chance.”
Her heart plummeted. “Jeezus, Jock, it was a motor vehicle accident. It—”
He turned. “It’s the headlines, Pallorino.” He jerked his fat chin toward the newspaper. “That story is just winding up, believe me. It’s got legs, and it’s gonna run for weeks. No way you’re flying under the radar now. No way I’m putting you on another of my top cases.”
A wave of gut-sickening reality crashed through her. She reached for the back of a chair, still hearing abutburied somewhere deep in his words.
It didn’t come.
“How about you let me work the admin shit, the grunt cases? Behind-the-desk stuff.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. I tried to give you a chance; you know that. But it was my mistake. You’re a fucking shit magnet, Pallorino. Your probation is up. You’re done.”
Tension fisted in her stomach. She continued to face him, not quite believing her ears even though she’d seen this coming the second she’d spotted Dave Falcon and his camera on the other side of the Nahamish River. Angie wanted to kill that big-ass reporter for this. She wanted to shoot him dead, in the face. Like she’d shot the Baptist.
“Go on, take your letter of termination and get outta here.”
“You’ll be sorry, Jock.”
“Yeah, I am sorry. You’re a good investigator. Hope you find something.” He turned his back on her and stared once more out the window.
Angie snatched the envelope off his desk and stomped out of Jock Brixton’s office, her heart burning with rage and hurt and frustration.
She exited the building, rammed her black ball cap onto her head to ward off the rain, and felt her old self beginning to bubble and fester inside—the bad Angie who wanted to punch someone. Anyone. For just being in her fucking way.
Use the old schooner as your office, maybe ... when you open your new “boutique investigations agency ...”
Yeah, well, that wasn’t going to happen now.
Jock Brixton had just robbed her of her dream.
CHAPTER 9
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER16
Angie ducked sideways, barely avoiding the blow from Chai Bui’s gloved fist. Breathing hard, slick with sweat, she took a step backward on the mat as Chai, her Muay Thai coach, came at her again.
“Hands higher!” Chai commanded. “Protect your face. Keep the marching stance, keep moving, foot to foot. Balls forward. Body square. Face me—” The roundhouse kick came fast, swiping toward Angie from the side. She jerked up her knee to block the strike, but she was too late. Chai’s leg whopped hard into Angie’s side, forcing air to explode from her lungs. At the same time, his hands whipped up, and he grabbed hold of her head. Yanking her body forward, he brought his other knee to her face. He stopped short of connecting and let her go.
She backed away and wiped her wrist across her brow.
“Got it?” Chai said.
