Every time I’d been late picking him up from school because my car wouldn’t start.
Every time he’d woken up to find some stranger in our house because I’d brought them home to fuck them for money.
The money I’d earned doing just that last night burned in my pocket. I needed it to pay my rent.
But I needed to find Fawn more. I pulled it out and put it down on the desk in front of him. “This is all I have right now. Give me a week to come up with the rest.”
The man eyed me then let out a long sigh. “I’ll take it because the case intrigues me. But if I’m letting you pay this off, then it’s going to be with interest.”
Relief settled over me. “Fine. Great. No problem. Where do I sign?” I would have told him anything. There was no way I was coming up with the rest of that money unless I found someone willing to buy a kidney. But this chump could suck a bag of dicks. Five hundred was more than fair for making a couple of calls.
I signed off on the contract, and Bert said he’d call me in a couple days with an update.
He walked me to the door while I profusely thanked him with fake sincerity and promised him a payment I knew I wouldn’t deliver on.
At my car, I slid behind the wheel and turned the key, praying the engine would turn over.
The passenger-side door opened, a woman slipping into the seat beside me. “Hey, Augie.”
My mouth dropped open. “Where the hell did you come from?”
I twisted and looked behind me, finally noticing her black car parked several houses away. “Were you following me?” I asked Ophelia.
She scoffed, “Please. Don’t flatter yourself. I was in the neighborhood and saw your shit bucket of a car. How on earth is this thing still running? It’s gotta be the same age as my dad.”
I cocked my head at her. “You were absolutely fucking following me.”
She ignored the accusation. “I was driving into town, saw your car parked outside a private investigator’s house, and thought maybe I’d see what you were up to.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And I would tell you because you’ve been so helpful and forthcoming with information?”
She grinned. “Exactly.”
I rolled my eyes. “Get out of my car, Ophelia.”
“You didn’t hire that guy, did you?”
“So what if I did?”
She bit her bottom lip and slowly drew it through her teeth while I tried not to notice how hot that was. “Fire him,” she said, voice full of defiance. “He has Mafia connections.”
I snorted. “He lives in a posh house in Providence and drives a minivan. That man wouldn’t know Mafia if one politely knocked on his door and asked for a cup of tea.”
She shrugged. “Do I look like I have Mafia connections?”
I glanced over at her sleek dark hair, the formfitting jeans, and long-sleeved black T-shirt. She was almost as girl-next-door as Fawn was. “No,” I admitted.
“And yet you know I carry a gun.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re Mafia. A lot of women carry guns.” Though generally not the sort of gun I’d seen in Ophelia’s bag the other night. That had been a hard-core weapon.
She laughed, the sound tinkling through my car pleasantly. “Fine. I’m not Mafia.”
“Too sweet and innocent?”
She smiled wryly and shook her head. “What if I told you I was worse?”
I squinted at her. She was tall but not exactly imposing. She definitely talked a lot of smack, but there was something behind her eyes that still reminded me so much of Fawn I could barely stand to notice it. “I’d probably say you were full of shit.”