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“Nowhere you’re ever going to find.”
“When is she coming back?”
“Hard to say.”
“You know what, Randy? I have a feeling your mom had nothing to do with this shit. I think you saw an opportunity to get back at me for kicking your ass and as a bonus make a few bucks.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, tell me I’m wrong.”
Randy paused long enough to make it obvious he was thinking of a good lie. He knew it too.
“So what if I did? You going to have this asshole shoot me?”
“Maybe.”
“No, you’re not. I know all about his history. Cops would be lining up to put this asshole away and you both know it.”
“You don’t think you’re worth going to prison for?”
“No, I don’t.”
“He’s right,” Margot said to Mal. “He’s not worth it. He’s not worth a damn thing.” She turned back to Randy. “I’m curious how much did they pay you to set me up?”
“Two grand.”
“Two grand was worth getting your cousin killed?”
“They said they were after Dean Stone.”
“You had to know.”
Randy shrugged. “Yeah, well, shit happens and two grand is two grand. If you guys aren’t going to shoot me or beat me up, can you leave? I’ve got things to do.”
“You know the way you talk about your mom makes it sound like something bad happened to her.”
Randy shrugged again. “Like I said, shit happens.”
Margot and Mal left him there to smoke his cigarette. Mal went left and Margot went right. She climbed into the unmarked car and sat in the back. Both Ames and Radcliff looked back at her. Margot took the recording device out of her purse and handed it to them.
“You get enough?”
“Yeah, I think so. He didn’t confess about his mom but put together what he said with the fact she hasn’t been seen in weeks ought to be enough to start an investigation. I’m guessing once someone starts looking, they’ll find something. Randy’s not exactly a criminal mastermind.”
“Awesome,” Radcliff said. “So…how about we try that dinner again? Say tomorrow around seven?”
“Sounds good to me.”
To Be Continued in Book 3 - Shadow of Suspicion…
Here’s an excerpt from the book.
It took a minute to put it together. Somewhere between the car and his ho
use, something happened, most likely something involving a taser. That might explain the burning sensation on his side. After that, everything was a blank, but somehow, he found himself hanging from a hook in the ceiling of an empty room. Most likely by his own handcuffs. The thug who slapped the bracelets on had taken them a notch too tight, so they were digging into his wrists. The same thug, wearing a cowboy hat two sizes too big for his head, was standing in front of him.
“What are you waiting for?”
