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“Consulting.”
Rachel locked her gaze on the man, trying to read his intentions. “We’re looking for someone,” she said, voice steady and authoritative. “And you’re not the person we called.”
He blinked. “You called?”
“Yeah, that was us,” Ethan said.
“I don’t know anything about no call.”
The woman was shaking her head in agreement.
“You sure you want to play it like that?” Rachel asked.
Ethan said, “We got a line on your phone, you know. Y’all playing games.”
Rachel had noticed Ethan’s southern accent became more pronounced when he was agitated. The handsome man’s sharp features seemed to aim in one direction as he jutted his chin at the pimp.
“You sayin’ you got my phone?” the man said. He bit his lip.
“We’re not looking for you,” Rachel cut in. “We don’t have any business with you. We’re looking for your colleague.”
“Oh…” He trailed off, frowning as if deep in consideration. It looked painful. “Who?”
“A pimp with tattoos working this area.”
“Look, lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man stammered, sweat beading on his forehead. “We’re just here for some… night out.”
“Then you won’t mind us checking that out, will you?” Rachel asked, her eyes narrowing. “Take you downtown with us. Have a look into your background. Hopefully, you don’t have any priors. Or, God forbid, an arrest warrant.”
Suddenly, the woman bolted. She let out a little yelp and took off. Her high heels lay abandoned on the cold alley ground.
Ethan glanced sharply at Rachel, but she shook her head. She considered giving chase, but her gut told her they needed answers from the man in front of them more than they needed to pursue the woman. “Let her go,” she said tersely, her focus returning to the apprehended pimp.
Ethan nodded, his grip on his gun unwavering as he continued to cover their suspect.
“Look,” the man said, glancing over his shoulder and scowling as he seemed to realize he was now on his own. “I… I don’t know what I can tell you. We don’t have to take this downtown though. We can chat.” Now that the witness was gone, he seemed more willing to talk.
“Alright,” Rachel said, her deep brown eyes boring into the man as she holstered her weapon. “You’re going to tell us everything you know about the pimp with tattoos working this area. And don’t even think about lying to me.”
The man hesitated for a moment, fear glittering in his eyes as he weighed his options. “I’ve seen him around,” he admitted finally, his voice shaky. “He goes by the name Snake. We all know him. I just took over for him yesterday.”
“Where can we find him?” Ethan interjected, his tone demanding.
“Look, I don’t know, okay?” the man replied, desperation creeping into his voice. “I just see him sometimes when I’m here for… other business.”
Rachel clenched her teeth, the frustration mounting within her.
“You just lied to me,” Rachel said softly.
He stared at her.
She was guessing, but his reaction confirmed it.
“I…”
“Where’s Snake?” she demanded. “Or we do this downtown.”
“Shit, man. You should know. He’s gonezo. Donezo. You know?” The man’s words hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension settling over the alley. “Snake was shot and killed a couple nights ago,” he mumbled, avoiding Rachel’s gaze.
