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“It’s probably good they did it that way, boss,” Lucas said. “Cops never even considered it could have been you.”
“Do I hire you to drive or talk?” Harry growled at Lucas.
“Sorry, boss. Just saying.”
“Don’t.”
Margot watched Lucas in the mirror. He looked like a sad puppy. She had a weird thought, but she kept it to herself.
“Look, Margot, I know you’re trying to help Phoebe and honestly, if I thought I could, I’d help her as well, but you need to stay clear. I’m already giving you a break because you were with Mal and I have a soft spot for him.”
Margot didn’t reply to that. She’d forgotten it had been alleged that Mal was working for Harry Lee back when Mal was a cop. Mal had always denied it, but the way Harry casually tossed out Mal’s name now made it seem like the allegations may have had some truth to them.
“The thing is, Margot, I have a rock-solid alibi. So does Bobby, he was driving that night. You need to leave me out. I’m no angel—I do plenty of bad shit—so don’t drag me into some bad shit I had nothing to do with.”
“How about Lucas? Does he have an alibi?”
Harry laughed as if the idea of Lucas doing the killing sounded ridiculous.
“You need to watch your mouth, bitch,” Lucas told her.
“Whatever you say, Lucas.”
“Do we have an agreement, Margot?” Harry said. “I think we’d both be happier if we could be friends.”
“Yeah, because that worked out so well for Mal.”
“He’s still breathing, so it can’t have worked out that badly.”
“I don’t think you killed Tim and Rita, Harry. Unless I find out differently, you have nothing to worry about from me.”
“I suppose that’s fair since I had nothing to do with it. How’s the stomach”
“Bobby hits like a runaway freight train, but I think I’m going to live.”
“So, you two can call it even?” Harry asked.
“I’m good if he’s good.”
Bobby smiled. “I like a girl who can take a punch. We’re cool.”
Harry nodded at Lucas and he pulled to the curb about a block from Margot’s car.
“You can walk from here. Have a nice day, Margot.”
While it was fresh on her mind, Margot called Browers and Associates, hoping someone was there on a Saturday. There wasn't, so she left a voicemail asking if the lab reports on the bloody dress showed anything unusual. Once this was done, she started walking.
Again, Margot called Radcliff while she walked to her car.
“What happened?’ Radcliff asked, sounding a little agitated.
“Harry Lee wanted another conversation,” Margot told him, leaving out the part where his thug punched her in the stomach.
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“You shouldn’t, but it might have been productive. Do you know anyone in the Organized Crime task force who can get me some information on Lee’s driver, a guy they call Lucas? I’d owe you one.”
“I suppose I can do that, but why?”
