Page 92 of Gluttony
“You guess, or she actually said that?” Parker demanded. “Be certain.”
“Yeah. She did.” Jeez. “You think it means this creature is influenced by Bosch’s memories?”
Tony flicked his gaze back to the pictures. The two women had the same chins. Nah, they weren’t that similar.
Sloan asked for the remote and changed the screen to stream something on her laptop. A map came up first.
“This is Bosch’s house. I sent a drone. It’s empty. His wife is not there, and he’s not been there for months. We don’t know where she is.” She pulled up screen shots of someone’s Netflix browsing history. “But she’s a fan.”
Tony cocked his eyebrow at her. “Your point is?”
Parker leaned on the table and peered across at him. “We have the woman’s email. Get her tickets to your premiere and we can flush her out. Then we can have a little chat about the activities her husband got up to. We may even be able to get some inside information about the entire operation.”
“What if she doesn’t know anything?”
“Well then she leaves with an experience she’ll never forget.”
He exhaled. “Fine.”
Parker pulled out his cell phone and handed it to Tony. “Make the call.”
Moving out in the hall near the bathrooms, Tony did. Two minutes later, he had the name of Wayne Bosch’s wife on the door list to the city’s premiere event of the year and a message sent to the woman as an invitation. While he was at it, he put the names of the rest of his family on but didn’t tell them. They’d either turn up, or they wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to beg for their attention. Returning to the dining room, he handed Parker his phone back.
“Anything else?”
“Not now,” Parker replied.
“Good.”
Tony was thirsty. Without a backward glance, he left. The sounds of the restaurant battered his senses. Their gluttony strangled him. He wasn’t sure where he was going, only that he needed to get away. When he found his feet taking him across the way to Hell, he stopped. The photographer disguised as a bum was gone. And why not? He’d got what he came for. A shot that will sell a million magazines tomorrow.
Tony’s gaze lifted to the big red wooden door of the club.
Locked.
But there was a back door.
And walls of booze inside.
“Stop,” Liza said behind him.
For fuck’s sake.
“Can’t you women leave me alone?”
Wrong thing to say. Liza grabbed him by the collar and shoved him inside the Lazarus lobby. She hit the button on the elevator and dragged him inside. When the doors shut, she let him go.
“Touch me again, and you’ll regret it,” he warned.
“Get over yourself, Tony.” She glared at the door. “Your girl has it bad for you, and you kiss another woman in front of her, and then take the other woman away.”
How did she know already?
Liza raised a brow at him, as if hearing his silent question. “It’s already hit the news network. Lilo called and paid the guy off before it got published.”
He swallowed, heat rising up his neck. He’d fucked up.
Liza hit the stop button on the elevator and mumbled, “I don’t know why I’m taking you up, when you should be going down.”
