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Chapter Four
Anne reached blindly over to her nightstand. Was that her alarm? Normally, she woke before it. Her fingers slid over the screen, expecting silence.
Instead, a peeved British voice snapped: “Could you possibly call off your dogs, pet?”
Pet? Anne sat up, rubbed her eyes, and looked at the phone. The number was unknown, but that was obviously William.
“What are you talking about?” Anne said after she picked up the phone.
“Look, I can handle you people following me everywhere, but when you pull me over and search my car for no bloody reason, I’m going to have a bit of a problem. There was no probable cause, it took forever, and one of your moron rookies scratched my Aston Martin.”
“Oh, my God, William. It’s so early. Why are you calling me about this?”
“Because you are the one who told them about my ring and caused this moronic pack of roaches to scuttle after me everywhere I go!”
Anne got out of bed and ruffled her hair as she squinted through the blinds at the rising sun. “If you’d give us a straight answer about the ring, then maybe they’d lose interest.”
“Ah, yes. I’d forgotten the Los Vegas police’s motto: Harass until you find a reason to call them guilty.”
Anne winced. “Okay, fine. You’re right.”
“God, that must’ve hurt to admit.”
“Cut me some slack, Will. I just woke up,” Anne snapped. “Have you called your lawyer yet?”
“No. I have business this morning, and it was too late last night.”
“I would appreciate it if you held off.”
“I’m sure you would.”
“I just need to talk to the guys at the station. No one wants to taint this investigation. I’m sure it was just a couple of rookies trying too hard to prove themselves.” Anne paused. “Thank you for calling me before you did anything. It means a lot. Having this case explode wouldn’t be good for me right now.”
“Didn’t do it for you, love.”
Love. Anne sighed, uncertain what to say next. “Too bad. You’re thanked.”
William was quiet for a moment. She could imagine him pursing his lips and his sharp cheekbones sticking out even more as he did so.
“I don’t have any information for you,” he said finally. “I’ve hardly had the opportunity to go anywhere but work and the hotel.”
“Have you been looking?” She made no effort to keep the surprise out of her voice.
“Only inasmuch as I would prefer to stay on this side of the prison walls. As you might imagine, it’s no vacation.”
Anne smiled reluctantly and picked up her brush. “I’m sure.”
The tottering steps of her daughter caught Anne’s attention, and her heart pounded in alarm.
“I’ve got to go, William. Thanks again for the heads up.”
She hung up before he could reply and opened her arms for the toddler rushing toward her.
***
William spared an offended look at his phone, then set it aside and propped his heels on his desk and rested his laptop on his knees.
“Well, that was rude, wasn’t it?” he said to no one.
The bit about having a meeting was a lie, in a way, although he did have plans. After he’d finally gotten home last night, he’d met up with Erin O’Malley who had come to his suite on the pretense of making a delivery, just as they’d specified on the phone before he’d left the shop. He’d been lucky that she’d waited. There had been loose ends to tie up from his trip to California, and anything that looked remotely shady right now could be a huge liability, with all of these police around.
At least Anne hadn’t orchestrated this extended harassment. It didn’t mean their relationship could be salvaged, but he would take it.
William took a sip of tea as he typed with one hand. The police servers weren’t particularly well-guarded, and with the password Erin had given him (he wasn’t going to ask how she’d gotten it), it only took a few minutes for him to get into their files. He combed through each file with a critical eye. There was a lot here that would be beneficial to know for future business, and some that would help if he ever needed to blackmail a few officers, but he had to focus. Jarvis Pigg, everything about him. Life and death.
Unsurprisingly, Pigg hadn’t been a model citizen while alive. What bothered William was the fact that he’d never met this bloke. He would’ve thought that there might be more of a connection, or that perhaps he’d run into him during a deal, or in prison, but he’d never seen him. He didn’t even recognize the tattoos clearly visible from the autopsy photos.
