Page 119 of A Breath of Life
Knowing I wouldn’t get anywhere with indignance, I gritted a thanks I didn’t feel through clenched teeth.
“You’re welcome.”
Only when I calmed down did the Bishop hand me a cigarette and flick a lighter. A tiny flame burst to life. He stood a few steps out of reach, waiting for me to be ready. I had to bend in half to get the cigarette between my lips since I couldn’t lift my hands higher than my waist. They had looped the cuffs under the rope that bound my legs, limiting my movements.
The Bishop lit the cigarette and pocketed the lighter. The alcohol had done a poor job of dampening my anxiety, but the cushioned haze of nicotine provided solace to my jittery nerves. I would regret it later, but on the off chance there was no later, I enjoyed every fucking haul.
I smoked while staring at the Bishop. He returned to his knives, meticulously honing their edges.
“Were you the one who killed Clarence’s wife?” I asked after I’d calmed a fraction.
The Bishop continued to work without responding.
“I know someone in Ace’s employ did. You seem to be his preferred weapon of destruction. Don’t you want to take credit where it’s due?”
Nothing.
I tried another angle. “How much does Clarence owe Ace?”
The steady scrape of the blade along the sharpening stone was the only reply.
“Who’s Michael?”
The Bishop’s gaze flicked up. A burst of anxious energy radiated between us. It was brief, but it was there.
Bingo.
Before I could press, the gunman poked his head in, and I silently cursed the intrusion. The man glared with a look of disgust at the low-burning cigarette between my fingers and the dusting of ash on the ground at my feet.
I glared back and shrugged. “No one offered me an ashtray.”
To the Bishop, he asked, “Is there a cleaning lady?”
The Bishop, his momentary unease packed away, studied the man at the door for a long moment. “Where?”
The gunman eyed me. “The office. Ace said you did surveillance and to ask you.”
“I wasn’t there often enough to be sure. He had me following this one.” He motioned to me. “I had no reason to stick around after he left.”
I finished my smoke as I openly eavesdropped.
The gunman didn’t seem pleased at having the conversation observed and was about to back out of the room when the Bishop asked, “Why?”
Again, the gunman hesitated, dashing a glance in my direction.
“Why?” the Bishop asked more pointedly.
The gunman’s rank must have landed below the Bishop’s. He pressed his lips together before responding. “Old woman showed up with rags and pails. She went inside for an hour or so and left with the dog.”
My spine stiffened. Echo. The office.My office. Ace had eyes on the office. Of course he fucking did. Thank god Tallus had known better than to go back there, but we didn’t have a cleaning lady. Who the hell took my dog?
“It seems self-explanatory,” the Bishop said. “Most businesses hire cleaning staff to come in after hours. The woman probably wondered why the dog was there alone, attempted to make a phone call, and took it home when no one answered. Did they follow her?”
“Ace said not to. It was more important to keep eyes on the building.”
An old woman? Who did Tallus have on his side?
It dawned on me, and I lowered my head to hide a smile as I dropped the cigarette butt on the ground and snuffed it out under my running shoe.
