Page 46 of Duty and Desire
“Smithie, let me see the letter.”
Seeing as the man was wearing a tight black T-shirt over black cargos and black cargo boots, looking like he was about to invade Somalia, and more,could, but he was in an office over a strip club in Denver, Smithie dug the letter out from under a bunch of stuff on his desk and handed it to Hawk.
The hulk behind Hawk edged closer and read over his boss’s shoulder.
While reading it, Hawk’s face only tightened a little.
The face of the man behind him went from scary toJesus fucking shit.
“I read it to you over the phone,” Smithie reminded him.
He didn’t have to, and Hawk didn’t have to remind Smithie that he was a busy guy, but Smithie had phoned and Elvira, Hawk’s assistant, had picked up. He’d read the letter to her and she hadn’t messed around with getting her boss on the line.
When Hawk heard it, Hawk got un-busy, called Smithie, then Smithie had read the letter to him.
So he’d made even more time to drop on by.
And there he was, tight-faced and clearly taking that letter as seriously as Smithie took it.
He finished reading and looked at Smithie.
“Before this one, you get any more of these?” Hawk asked.
Smithie shook his head. “Though I think one is enough, don’t you?”
He handed the letter over his shoulder to the monster behind him.
“One is enough,” Hawk agreed. “You got the envelope?”
Smithie dug out the envelope the letter came in and handed it over.
Hawk didn’t even look at it. He gave it direct to the man behind him.
Then he asked, “You call the cops?”
“You know who Lottie Mac’s sister is?”
Hawk’s mouth tightened even further.
He also knew how gonzo Eddie Chavez would go if he knew someone had written that letter about Mac. And any cop who read that letter would go straight to Eddie.
“Charlotte McAlister know about that letter?” Hawk asked.
Now Smithie understood Hawk definitely knew who Mac’s sister was. He knew who Mac was. That letter didn’t refer to Mac as anyone but Lottie Mac and “Charlotte McAlister” was not the name Smithie used on the marquee.
“I haven’t shared…” he paused, “yet.”
“She get an escort home?” Hawk kept at him.
“To her car at night.” After he gave him that, Smithie shook his head again and wished he wasn’t doing it. “Not home.”
“Fuck,” Hawk muttered.
“She will now,” Smithie told him. “In fact, I got a guy sittin’ on her house right now, which is where she is. She was here, but she took off and I put a man on her.”
Hawk jerked his head to the man standing behind him. “He’ll be relieved by Mo.”
Well, all right.
