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But everything was a game of chess between me and Lou. Neither of us ever acknowledged there was even a board, but we moved the pieces all the same.
“She’ll be an asset to both of us,” I said, forcing a smile into my voice even though I didn’t feel it.
“Asset to me, maybe. Piece ‘a ass to you, definitely.”
“I’ll be dropping by later.”
“To reap the rewards of your generosity? Or rather, MY generosity?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, come on down, Jack. You’re always welcome.”
Yeah.
Right.
“See you soon, Lou.”
Click.
10
Fiona
Jack Pollari was hot, of that there was no question.
Incredibly handsome, smooth, suave, smart… maybe too smart. That bit where he figured out I’d never been a waitress before actually messed with me for a second. Threw me off my game.
Then I realized he’d thrown me off my game completely.
I was here to find Ali’s killer, not get busy with the leader of the local asshole’s union.
When I got back to my motel room, I pulled out my book of photographs, one of my most treasured possessions.
There were so many pictures… of Ali by herself, of the both of us together, ranging from infancy to our early twenties.
One of my favorites was when we were both about seven years old, our arms around each other, gap-toothed smiles from our teeth falling out. It was summer, and the photo was warm and bright with the perfect haze of sunshine.
That’s who she was to me: a little blonde girl, perfect and innocent.
That was who I was here for.
Not some biker. Not some smooth-talking thug.
I was here to bring her killer to justice.
If I could use Jack Pollari to do that, so be it.
But that was all that was going to happen.
That was it.
11
If I thought Jack Pollari was a smooth operator, though, it was only because I hadn’t met Louis Shaw.
I stopped by the Seven Veils at 7PM, as instructed. The bald asshole Peanut was on duty at the door. Hard rock thumped heavily from the closed door behind him.
