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“Lucky? I don’t think so.” She walks through the kitchen and out into the dining area like she owns the place. Travis and I automatically follow. She glances up the stairs. “You live here too?”
I reluctantly nod. This woman is giving off an unfriendly vibe. Paco feels it too. He’s not barking, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off her since she’s walked through the door like he’s suspicious of her every move. Right now he’s the canine equivalent of Robert DeNiro from Meet The Parents. If he could do the two fingers V sign for I’m watching you, he would.
“Mind if I check your place out?” Without waiting for an answer, she starts climbing the stairs to my apartment.
I dash ahead and block her from my door. “Yes, I mind. What are you looking for exactly?”
For a second she looks startled like she’s not used to anyone telling her no, but she regroups fast enough. “What are you? Some sort of hacker
? How were you able to solve a case that highly trained professional FBI agents weren’t able to crack?”
“Hacker?” I snort. “Lady, I can barely keep my online checking account straight.”
“Lucy hasn’t done anything illegal,” Travis says in my defense. “She’s really smart. And able to read people better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Aw. Hearing Travis stick up for me makes my insides go warm and fuzzy. But I’m still not going out with him.
Agent Billings looks me over like I’m a bug under her microscope. “Are you going to help us or not?” she demands.
“I’ve already answered all your questions. Other than that, I’m not sure what I can do.” I open the door to my apartment and usher them inside. Normally, when I invite someone to my place I offer them something to drink, but I’m exhausted, and Agent Billings can get her own friggin coffee. Preferably somewhere else.
She sits on my couch. “It goes against every instinct to bring a civilian in on this, but I have no choice. Fontaine told me that you’ve already been filled in on the Joey Frizzone situation. The man you found in the park? Ken Cameron? He was my partner.” Her voice hitches for a second. “I don’t intend to lose any more agents. Or Joey either. It’s imperative that we keep The Weasel safe. His testimony will be the result of over five years of work for the Bureau.”
“Sure, I understand. So…what does all this mean? Who’s the guy in the dumpster?”
“The man you found today was no FBI agent. His name is Mark Rinaldi. He’s a professional hitman. Or rather, he was.”
“Do you think he’s the one who killed Ken Cameron?”
She hesitates. “No.”
“But you do think this Mark Rinaldi was here to kill Joey?”
“Definitely.”
“But…that makes no sense. I mean, I get why this Rinaldi character wants to kill Joey. Money, right?”
“Word on the street is that Vito Scarlotti has put a half-million-dollar contract on Joey’s life. No questions asked.”
“Holy Wow. For half a mil I’ll kill him myself.”
Agent Billings raises a brow at me.
I clear my throat. “Just kidding.” Sort of. Boy, this woman really can’t take a joke.
“So what was the motive to kill Mark Rinaldi? And Ken Cameron?”
“Very few people know where Joey is, but…obviously the word leaked out.”
“You think Agent Cameron ratted Joey out? For money?”
Her gray eyes blaze with fury. “Absolutely not. Ken was an upstanding guy. The best. But…he could be sloppy sometimes.”
Oh. I get it now. “The two of you were more than partners?”
“We were friends,” she says simply.
A lot more than friends if my Spidey sense is on track here. For the first time, I feel sorry for her.
