Page 141 of Long Gone

“So we’re clearly at a stalemate.”

“You had access to his bank statements,” he said insistently. “You could see where the money went.”

“I already told you it went to an offshore account. I couldn’t find out. I’d take you to my apartment to show you the bank statements, but I’m sure you already looked them over.” I closed my eyes as another wave of nausea hit. When it subsided, I opened them again. “What time did you kill him?”

“Who?”

“How many people have you killed?”

“Enough to know I’d get the electric chair.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised given how much pleasure he’d obviously gotten from killing Hugo, but I still found him utterly revolting. “Then what time did you kill Hugo? The transfer took place at about nine p.m. on the night he disappeared.”

He made a face. “I killed him when he was supposed to be at his son’s basketball game. Kept whining about how he was letting his son down.”

“You’re a sick bastard, Skip Martin.”

He leaned closer and an evil look filled his eyes. “You’re about to find out how sick I am. I’m gonna get the name out of you one way or another.”

“What happens when I never give you the name? Because I don’t know where it went.”

“Then I’ll dump your cold, dead, mutilated body on Malcolm’s doorstep and let him deal with the fallout.”

Well, shit. That meant he wasn’t using me to lure Malcolm here after all.

I was in deep trouble.

Skip looked a little too pleased with himself. “How do you think Malcolm will handle it? You think he’ll hide your body to avoid being involved, or will he deal with being a suspect in your murder?”

“Why would he be a suspect? There are plenty of witnesses who will testify that we weren’t enemies.”

The hint of a shadow appeared at the base of the staircase, and I heard Malcolm say in a deadly tone, “Or maybe I’ll blow your brains out, Martin, and bury you next to Hugo Burton.”

Skip sat up, then grabbed my chair and dragged it across the floor to use me as cover. “How the fuck did you find us here?”

My heart nearly burst from my chest, and I struggled to keep it together. Somehow Malcolm had shown up, but I could still become collateral damage.

“Never you mind that,” Malcolm growled as he stepped into view holding a handgun. “I’m more interested in the topic at hand—your attempt to frame me.”

“Not that I’m about to kill your girlfriend?” Skip sneered.

“Girlfriend?” Malcolm said in disgust. “Someone’s been misinformed. She’s a P.I. who investigates things for me. She’s my employee and people don’t fuck with my employees and live to tell about it.”

My heart twisted in my chest, although I wasn’t sure why. Possibly because neither thing was true: I was neither his girlfriend nor his employee, and yet he was here anyway, risking himself for me.

“This changes my plan,” Skip said, pressing the muzzle of the gun into my temple. “But I’ve always been a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. Hell, while people were dissing electric cars, I was first in line to get the new electric trucks.”

“Wow,” I said sarcastically. “How green of you.”

Skip snorted. “I don’t give a shit about the environment. I like money.”

“It’s gonna be hard to spend it in hell,” Malcolm said. “But before you go, I need to ask a few questions.”

“I’m the one with the power here,” Skip said, shoving the gun hard into my temple, sending a wave of pain through my head. “How about you answer some questions for me? Why’d you off Simmons?”

Malcolm’s eyes were hard and dangerous. If I’d been Skip Martin, I would have been scared shitless, but then again, maybe Skip was scared. The gun pressed into my head had a slight tremor. “Simmons got what was coming to him.”

“Why are you here in Lone County?” Skip asked. “If you’re lookin’ for the treasure, then you’re on a fool’s errand. It ain’t here.”

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