Page 25 of Broken Limits


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“If you’re worried for the safety of this young woman, you need to leave it in our hands.”

Brody cocks an eyebrow. “Why? Because you’ve done such a good job of keeping her safe so far? You know she reported that Don killed her mother.”

Murphy is naturally protective of his partner. “The girl was hysterical. There was no such evidence of that happening. The poor woman fell down the stairs.”

Brody snorts. “If you say so.”

I take over. “Here’s the thing. We don’t care about Don being corrupt. We literally couldn’t give a shit. All we want is to make sure his stepdaughter is okay. We can leave this bag of cash on the floor, right here beside the chair, and walk out. No one needs to know we ever brought it in. But in return, we need some info on Don.”

The other man doesn’t balk. He doesn’t appear horrified at the suggestion. He also doesn’t attempt to arrest us for bribery. “What kind of info?”

“We want you to request his bank and credit card records. We need to find out where he is, and if he’s used his card recently. If he’s rented a car, we need to know the make and model and the license plate number.”

Murphy purses his lips again. “When do you need this by?”

“ASAP.” I think of something and shrug. “Unless you know where Don is, of course, and where he might have taken his stepdaughter, and you can tell us yourself.”

“He’s on vacation as far as I know. Mexico.”

I wince. “I already know that’s not true.”

“What can I say? It’s what he told me and the rest of the department.”

“In which case, we’re definitely going to need those bank records, ’cause that’s bullshit.”

Murphy rubs two fingers across his lips and glances down at the bag. “Can I see how much is in there?”

I lean down and unzip it. “Be my guest.”

He checks the contents and then straightens. “Okay. Give me your number, and I’ll contact you as soon as I have the information.”

I shake my head. “No numbers.” Cell phones can be traced, and I have no intention of leaving a trail. “Get the information. We’ll be waiting here, with the money.”

“It may take a while.”

“In which case, sitting here might get expensive. I imagine ten grand an hour expensive.”

Brody steps in, his tone filled with tension. “So I suggest you work quickly. You’ll get the money once it’s done.”

He pauses for a moment, looking as though he’s considering arguing with us, but then he nods and gets to his feet. No one says another word as the detective turns from us and leaves the dark, dingy bar.

Now, we wait.








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