prominent nose, the guy kept his distance. Real cagey.
“Because I can see we’re going to be such good friends, you can call me by my first name, Oprah. And my interest is personal.” Inside her jacket pocket, she wrapped her fingers around the M84 stun grenade canister, feeling for the detonation pin and lever.
“Not good enough.” The taller man joined the conversation. “And for the record, attitude don’t work with us.”
Jess sized up the two men. What Beef Boy lacked in gray matter, he made up for with brute strength and the ego of a bully who hadn’t been bested. He was posturing to impress her with his bulk, but she had no doubt he worked for the smaller man with the nasty nicotine habit. And if things got dicey, the smoker would be the man to watch. He had the cold unreadable eyes of a predator who didn’t have to prove himself.
“I got mixed feelings on that,” she said. “Bad news is, I gotta toss out all my best material ’cause attitude is all I got. But on the plus side, that means I’ve got nothin’ to say.”
She tried sidestepping the muscle, but he blocked her, saying, “We ain’t done.” His right eye twitched like a warning blinker.
“Then make your point. I might cooperate if we had a little give-and-take.” She directed her question to the smoker. “What’s your interest in Desiree? Does she work for you, or is she a good customer?”
From what the bartender told her, she didn’t figure Desiree had a pimp, but she didn’t want to make assumptions. If she had to guess, she’d put money that this guy was her dealer. Yet why would he take a personal interest in a small-time streetwalker turning tricks for product? More questions stirred in her mind than she had answers.
But one loomed larger than the rest.
Desiree had made herself scarce for a reason. Being a hooker with an addiction, she’d made a tough decision to lie low. What had scared her enough to stray from the demons she knew? Jess had a feeling the girl knew what had happened to Harper and didn’t want to get dragged into it. Or maybe she’d set him up in the first place in exchange for money to feed her habit. Another real possibility. Jess knew that when she located the troubled girl, any answers she’d give would give her no more than a fifty-fifty shot at helping Seth.
Finding Desiree would either prove his innocence or lock him in a box for life.
“You’re not understanding how things work here.” The smoker lowered his voice and stepped forward. His version of “less is more” had worked. “I ask the questions, and you answer. If you can’t abide by this, then you’ve got a serious problem.”
She kept her mouth shut for two reasons. One, if this asshole believed he had the upper hand, he might let his guard down enough to let her stun grenade do the talking. And two, keeping her trap shut gave her time to think up a lie worthy of her fierce skills.
“Now tell me why you’re looking for Desiree,” the smoker persisted.
The side of beef to his right crossed his arms, grimacing in thought. Apparently, thinking was a challenge.
“She’s my sister.” She shrugged. “Half sister, actually. Our mother wanted me to track her down. Any idea where I can find her?”
Jess always appreciated the irony in faking sincerity.
“What do I look like…4–1–1?” The big guy smirked. His face made the effort look like it hurt. “I ain’t interested in makin’ this a family reunion.”
“That’s too bad. Havin’ you in our family would’ve taken pressure off me bein’ the black sheep.”
Having a finger on a detonator gave her a whole new appreciation for the word “empowered.”
“Just say the word, boss. Gimme a reason.” He reached into his pocket and took out a switchblade. The whisper of its jutting blade caused the hair at the nape of her neck to stand on end. These guys wouldn’t be satisfied with a hand slap.
“You don’t look like the kind of guy who needs a reason to
“Because I can see we’re going to be such good friends, you can call me by my first name, Oprah. And my interest is personal.” Inside her jacket pocket, she wrapped her fingers around the M84 stun grenade canister, feeling for the detonation pin and lever.
“Not good enough.” The taller man joined the conversation. “And for the record, attitude don’t work with us.”
Jess sized up the two men. What Beef Boy lacked in gray matter, he made up for with brute strength and the ego of a bully who hadn’t been bested. He was posturing to impress her with his bulk, but she had no doubt he worked for the smaller man with the nasty nicotine habit. And if things got dicey, the smoker would be the man to watch. He had the cold unreadable eyes of a predator who didn’t have to prove himself.
“I got mixed feelings on that,” she said. “Bad news is, I gotta toss out all my best material ’cause attitude is all I got. But on the plus side, that means I’ve got nothin’ to say.”
She tried sidestepping the muscle, but he blocked her, saying, “We ain’t done.” His right eye twitched like a warning blinker.
“Then make your point. I might cooperate if we had a little give-and-take.” She directed her question to the smoker. “What’s your interest in Desiree? Does she work for you, or is she a good customer?”
From what the bartender told her, she didn’t figure Desiree had a pimp, but she didn’t want to make assumptions. If she had to guess, she’d put money that this guy was her dealer. Yet why would he take a personal interest in a small-time streetwalker turning tricks for product? More questions stirred in her mind than she had answers.
But one loomed larger than the rest.
Desiree had made herself scarce for a reason. Being a hooker with an addiction, she’d made a tough decision to lie low. What had scared her enough to stray from the demons she knew? Jess had a feeling the girl knew what had happened to Harper and didn’t want to get dragged into it. Or maybe she’d set him up in the first place in exchange for money to feed her habit. Another real possibility. Jess knew that when she located the troubled girl, any answers she’d give would give her no more than a fifty-fifty shot at helping Seth.
Finding Desiree would either prove his innocence or lock him in a box for life.
“You’re not understanding how things work here.” The smoker lowered his voice and stepped forward. His version of “less is more” had worked. “I ask the questions, and you answer. If you can’t abide by this, then you’ve got a serious problem.”
She kept her mouth shut for two reasons. One, if this asshole believed he had the upper hand, he might let his guard down enough to let her stun grenade do the talking. And two, keeping her trap shut gave her time to think up a lie worthy of her fierce skills.
“Now tell me why you’re looking for Desiree,” the smoker persisted.
The side of beef to his right crossed his arms, grimacing in thought. Apparently, thinking was a challenge.
“She’s my sister.” She shrugged. “Half sister, actually. Our mother wanted me to track her down. Any idea where I can find her?”
Jess always appreciated the irony in faking sincerity.
“What do I look like…4–1–1?” The big guy smirked. His face made the effort look like it hurt. “I ain’t interested in makin’ this a family reunion.”
“That’s too bad. Havin’ you in our family would’ve taken pressure off me bein’ the black sheep.”
Having a finger on a detonator gave her a whole new appreciation for the word “empowered.”
“Just say the word, boss. Gimme a reason.” He reached into his pocket and took out a switchblade. The whisper of its jutting blade caused the hair at the nape of her neck to stand on end. These guys wouldn’t be satisfied with a hand slap.
“You don’t look like the kind of guy who needs a reason to
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