Page 49 of The Liar

“No, I know.” Portia sounded impatient. “She did the same for repeat big spenders at the strip club, and it crossed my mind that she might keep notes every time she saw—you know, her big secret boyfriend.”

I pointed to my lips and then the phone, and West nodded, giving me permission to speak. “Portia, this is Joanna. We haven’t had a good look at the diary we found yet because it seemed very mundane. Perhaps she coded it somehow? Would you be able to come into the police station? With your help, we might be able to decode it.”

“No.” The reply was quick and firm. “I’ll meet you tomorrow to have a look at it, but not there, and not if I have to talk to anyone other than you and West.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “Just us. I’ll have to check the diary out of evidence first. What time suits you?”

“I’ll send West the when and where.”

The call cut off.

14

JOANNA

“Are you sure this isn’t a setup?” I asked West as we walked to yet another coffee shop, this one in a marginally nicer area of town. Portia seemed to have a thing for holding clandestine meetings in coffee shops, and from what West had said, she didn’t like to use the same one twice.

He scanned the area. “We can’t be certain, but she’s given me good information before, and I trust her as much as I would any other proven informant.”

My lips twitched. “Which is to say, not with your life.”

He chuckled. “Certainly not with yours.”

I touched the gun inside my jacket. Setup or not, I’d come armed. To be fair, I very rarely went anywhere without a concealed weapon.

“What information has she given you in the past?” While he’d shared the broad brushstrokes of their investigation with me, I knew very few of the details.

West glanced at me. “Because of her, we’ve been able to conclusively connect two dirty cops to Ortez, and there are several more we suspect. We’re just waiting for them to slip up.”

“Who?” I didn’t really expect him to tell me, but it would be nice to know that he trusted me.

He gave me a look. “You know I can’t say.”

My heart sank. I thought I’d resigned myself to the knowledge that West didn’t fully trust me, but it would seem I’d been holding onto a thread of hope after all.

It was ridiculous. He was just being professional and doing things by the book. Hell, he’d already bent the rules by sharing what he had. In his shoes, I wasn’t sure how much I’d be willing to blur the lines, so it wasn’t fair of me to expect any different from him.

That didn’t stop me from being disappointed.

I pushed the door to the coffee shop open and an electronic chime sounded. I scanned the interior, noting that Portia was once again in the farthest back corner. I wondered if she realized that choosing that position effectively trapped her. She probably felt safe, having her back to two walls, but if she needed to run, there was nowhere to go.

“I’ll order coffee,” West said. “You sit with her. She looks like she might try to bolt.”

“Thanks.” I made my way to her, taking in the rigid set of her muscles and the rapid tapping of her foot against the floor. She really was giving the impression she didn’t want to be here. As I drew nearer, I noticed her eyes were even more red than yesterday. Had she slept at all?

“Were you followed?” she asked, her eyes darting toward the entrance.

“Not that I know of.” I could usually pick out a tail, and I suspected West’s radar for that kind of thing was even better than mine. “Are you okay?”

Portia huffed. Her hair hung around her shoulders, lank and greasy, as if she hadn’t showered since she’d discovered her friend’s body. That couldn’t be good in her line of work.

“I’ll be better when the bitch who killed Sasha is behind bars,” she muttered.

I felt a pang of sympathy for her. I’d be a mess if anything happened to Hallie. It was no surprise she wasn’t doing well. “Hopefully, you can help us make that happen.”

West took the third chair and placed two cups of coffee on the table.

I reached into my bag and withdrew the sealed plastic evidence baggy that contained a photocopy of the most recent of Sasha Sloane’s diaries. Portia stretched out her hand toward it, but I motioned for her to stop.

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