Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“Will you be mine?”
He leans in and kisses me. “I am yours, Lilah, which is why I’m going to kill Ghost. And before you bitch, I would have done it without telling you before. We’ve come a long way, bella.”
I grab his belt loop. “If you can kill him, you can find him. Find him and let’s talk to him first.”
“I won’t find him,” he says. “Another assassin will.”
“If an assassin can find Ghost, they can tell us where to find him.”
“You’re killing me, Lilah. I’ll think about it. After my meeting.”
“What about your father?”
“I’m still thinking.”
“Thinking about what?”
“Catch your killer,” he says. “Then we’ll talk.”
“I thought you said we came a long way.”
“Later, bella. I have to go.” He glances at a text on his phone and adds, “Your sketch artist is here.”
I know Kane, and I’m not getting anything from him right now, even with a fight. I let him go despite my best judgment. He’s on edge over his father. Ghost picked the wrong time to cross him. But on the bright side, I think Ghost might have brought out the gangster in Kane. And when Kane’s gangster, no one, including his father, will live to cross him more than once.
Chapter Forty-Five
Me and Purgatory just can’t get any alone time.
The sketch artist is with me for two hours, after which Chief Houston stops by, shoots it out to the databases, and then picks my brain. “What is going on?”
“If I tell you, I have to kill you, but I have Cheetos and chocolate I can offer for your enjoyment.”
“It’s me, Lilah,” he says, holding out his hands to his sides. “I’m not going to blab, and I already met Adams. He said he’s taking over Murphy’s duties. First Homeland and now him. He asked a lot of questions about you, and wouldn’t tell me shit about the case our team was shut out of. DD said the victim was Murphy.”
“DD has a big fucking mouth. And you know what they say about big mouths?”
His eyes go wide. “It was Murphy?”
“My joke was going to be funny, but it’s ruined now. Yes. It was Murphy.”
He taps the drawing and says, “Did this guy do it?”
“I don’t think so, but he knows who did.”
“And he’s an assassin?”
“And a big baby who’s temperamental about anyone stealing his trademark techniques, which are not a trademark at all. He’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t think I want to know how you know him this well.”
“I’m likable. People tell me stuff.”
“I’m going to claim the Fifth. If he didn’t kill Murphy, how’s he involved in this?”
“He’s now the number two assassin, so his paydays shrunk. He knows the new number one, and if he kills that person he becomes—”
“Number one again. I get it now. Let me help. How can I help?”
Houston’s the youngest police chief New York has ever seen and while he seems trustworthy, I don’t know that he is. “You are helping. You let me borrow an artist and you are digging around for Ghost’s true identity. If I find him, and actually capture him, we’ll get him to talk.”
His cellphone rings and he grimaces at the caller ID before he answers. He exchanges a few gruff words and then says, “I’ll be right there.” He disconnects. “I want to talk about this in more depth, but obviously I have to go. I’ll keep you posted on any hits on Ghost.”
Finally, I’m alone, and I head to Purgatory where I hope to make progress on the investigation, but there is very little data for me to work with, which leaves me frustrated. Neither Andrew nor Lucas offers answers to aid my investigation, while Tic Tac, who’s apparently communicating with Jack, continues to weed through data.
It’s almost noon when Andrew shows up with strawberry pie in hand and nothing good to tell me. I sit at the kitchen island and eat two slices of pie as he details his two stops by the diner that only amounted to one pie for me. “There’s a long-term waitress who just retired and moved to guess where—”
“Nashville.”
“Yes. Nashville. Or so the staff at the diner said, but they have no phone number or address. I can’t find one, either.”
I stab a strawberry with my fork and wave it at him. “What about the Nashville police?”
“I left a message for a buddy down there. So, for now, I have nothing good to show for my efforts. Tic Tac is supposed to be checking traffic camera feeds. Where are we on that?”
“Good question,” I say, holding up my phone, “I just got a text. Jay’s bringing him over. You know he gets scared when he’s alone, and you left him alone.”
“I’m not Tic Tac’s babysitter.”
“But apparently I am, in fact, a babysitter.” I fill him in on all that’s happened with Adams, Ellis, and the President, and he’s blown away.