Page 41 of The Killer Who Kept Me

He shrugged but didn’t say anything, so I walked over to where someone had put her bag, unzipped it, and pulled out her cell phone.

“See, Ramsey clearly had very little use for you. He used your name freely. And yes, Em told me that, and before you decide to say he’s a liar, let me stop you.” I waggled her cell at her. “This is your phone, right?”

“Yeah.”

“After I heard the accusations about you, I had a tracker embedded in it.”

Her expression fell, and her tanned complexion turned ashen. “Sir.”

“That’s the face. Right there, Brandi. Why so scared if you did nothing wrong?”

“I can explain.”

I moved to the chair, dragged it closer to the cross, and sat. “By all means, please do. I’m dying to hear.”

“I was approached. I saw it as an opportunity to maybe get inside information for you about Ramsey Brookes.” She swallowed, and sweat began to glisten on her face and soak under her armpits.

“Why would you do something like that? I have relationships in place. How would it have looked to Ramsey if he thought I put a fox in the hen house?” I used an old phrase my aunt liked to say, and it always delighted me when old-fashioned commentary tripped people up.

“I wanted to get ahead.”

“Of what?”

“I wanted to be more than a bartender.”

I rolled my eyes and faced Cosmo. “Did Brandi ever ask for a promotion or raise?”

“No, Boss.”

“Interesting.” I slammed her phone on the ground, and it cracked but didn’t shatter. “Try again, but know that I’m getting tired.”

“It’s…it’s the truth.”

“Mike, explain to Brandi what you found out.”

“Sure thing.” Mike stepped forward and picked up her cell phone from the floor. “Where your sim card is, was where the tracer was put in. I call it a tracer, but it’s so much more. It tracks your movement, like GPS, but it also accesses your camera and records conversations. It’s state-of-the-art. So, on the phone or off, it’s recording and streaming right to my computer.”

He shrugged, pulled out the tracer, and dropped the phone.

“So where you went, what you said, who you were with. I mean, Boss, you want me to tell her what we already know?”

I tilted my head and narrowed my gaze at a visibly shaking Brandi. “Show her instead.”

He grabbed the tablet he’d brought and started hitting a bunch of buttons, which from what I could tell, linked right to the tracer that was connected to her phone. Then he moved beside her, placing the tablet in her face, volume at full blast.

“Oh, Daddy, yes, you fuck me so good.”

“You like that, baby girl?”

“So much, yes.”

We listened, and I never took my eyes off her face as she watched and listened to what her phone picked up. It wasn’t just the fact that she’d been fucking Ramsey, it was what had happened afterward.

“When can we be together?”

“Soon, baby, soon. I just gotta take care of Saros Tancredi, get that fucking piece of shit, Em, under my roof, and figure out what to do with Shyla.”

“Let me help.”

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