Page 53 of Hot Tycoons Boxset

The bigger, bulkier-looking guy stiffens.

“He can come back later. You can wait for Mr. McCoy.”

I wince.

“I might have already buzzed him up.”

The man raises a brow, and then shares a look with his colleague before taking a step forward.

“I’ll do it.”

I nod, grateful, and just then the elevator dinged and the doors open, revealing the gray-haired detective. He has a bag in his hand and looks surprised to see my head peeking out from the door.

“Mrs. McCoy. Uh, were you waiting for me?” He sounds confused and sheepish.

“Not at all. I was talking to—” I glanced at the bodyguard, feeling guilty for not knowing his name.

“Tim.” He must have seen the guilt on my face because he grins.

“—Tim. I was talking to Tim, here. About cookies.” All three men turn to stare at me, and I keep my expression resolute.

If you speak a lie, you had to stick to it. No matter how stupid it sounds.

“Cookies, Mrs. McCoy?” Clarence looks so bewildered that I actually feel sorry for him.

I run a hand through my messy hair.

“Yeah. I wanted to make some.” That answer just raises more confused questions. However, to my relief, nobody pursues this line of questioning.

“Is Mr. McCoy home?” Clarence asks. I shake my head.

“He just stepped out.”

“Oh, I thought I could ask him about the people on the tape.” The detective looks disappointed.

“The tape?” I ask.

He lifts the bag that is dangling from his hand.

“Yeah. He got the man who was following you and the tapes from the restaurant that you visited, delivered to me three days ago. I couldn’t find anything of use in it, though. And the man is even worse. He lawyered up. So, we can’t question him.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

I don’t feel all that bad because I know that Philip’s people managed to extract some information from that man and that Zayn found the video more than useful.

Clarence staggers, and I take a step forward, alarmed.

“Are you okay, Detective?”

He uses the wall to steady himself.

“Sorry. I didn’t get time to eat, today. My blood sugar must be dropping.”

My eyes widen.

“I’ll fix you something. Please come in.”

“What are you doing, Mrs. McCoy?” Tim frowns at me. His words are a hiss, and I give him a helpless look.

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