Page 192 of Sweet Temptation

“Enjoy my fifty-dollar donation to the cause,” I said flatly. Then I turned to leave.

For whatever reason, he followed me down the hall. “It’s gonna cost more than that.”

“Ask me if I care.”

“I thought you knew him.”

“You thought wrong.”

“Is he dead?”

I paused at the front door of the building. Now there was an interesting question.

I met scumlord’s rat eyes again. The dude was shifty as fuck. “Honestly, I don’t know. But I doubt it. Cockroaches tend to survive.” I pushed through the door, and he fucking followed.

“Do you think he’s coming back?”

“If I knew that, would I be searching his place?”

“The rent’s only paid ’til the end of the month. I’m clearing the place this weekend, so if you find him, you can let him know. His things are going out to the trash by Sunday.”

“You seem to misunderstand,” I said. “I. Don’t. Care.”

“Just wanted you to know… everything’s gonna be gone.”

I stopped again.

Why was this guy so damn eager to convince me the place would be cleared out soon?

I turned on him. “Was there something in that apartment?”

Yeah. That struck gold.

“Something that’s not there anymore?” I ventured.

His shifty little eyes darted away. “I already told everything I know to the other bikers who came by.”

Other bikers.

Meaning he thought I was a biker. And he’d talked to the other bikers?

“You mean the bikers who broke in?” He didn’t answer that, and I took a step closer, getting in his face. “You saw the guys who broke in?”

“I…” He choked and shut right up.

I took out my phone and pulled up an image of the West Coast Kings’ insignia, turning it to him: the notorious, skeletal king of spades. “Were they wearing this?”

His already pale face blanched. “I already told the guy,” he said quickly. “I said I’d call him if Sanchuk came back.”

“What guy?”

“He gave me a number to call.”

I stared at him. Was this guy a fucking moron, or was he that scared of the Kings?

Both, maybe.

“How about you give it to me,” I said slowly, so he could follow, “and I don’t call into the Vancouver Police Department to report the half-dozen obvious violations you’ve got going on in this dump. Beginning with the fact that you scrubbed down that apartment after the Kings broke in because you didn’t want the police, if they came by, to know you’d been in there yourself, poking around.”

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