Page 50 of Enticing the Fixer

“He was leaving a conference here in town.” Keith stares over my shoulder as if he’s reliving some part of the experience. “I saw him there and had a drink with him. He was that kind of guy. The kind that wasn’t above his employees. He was on cloud nine over a potential new client.”

“Did he mention who the client was? Have they come on board?”

“Yes and no.” His eyes narrow. “Yes, he told me. But no, it doesn’t matter. They never panned out.”

I scratch at a loose thread on the seam of my pants. “Who was it?”

“Parkland Pharmaceutical.”

“They’re a quality company.” Damn it. They would have taken the corporation to the next level. They’re heavy hitters in the pharmaceutical game.

“Yes.” He shifts his attention to me as if he’s just now remembering I’m in the room. He shakes his head, and his eyes refocus. “Sorry. I was thinking about the accident. It has always driven me crazy.”

My heart skips a beat as I remain motionless hoping that my question doesn’t scare him off. “What about it?”

“He was on 16thStreet.”

16thand Valley, to be exact, but if I say that, he’ll know I’m more familiar with the accident than I’m letting on.

“How’s that significant?”

“The conference was on the west side of town, near Terrace, and he lived in the Eden Estates.”

Why didn’t that come up in the newsfeeds or the police reports? I should have realized it didn’t add up. People don’t go through a high-crime area after midnight unless they live there. It’s not safe.

Is this a clue? Or just the crazy ramblings of a guy from accounting? A grown man can drive to any part of the city he wants. But why? And why on that night, at that specific time, was he killed in a hit-and-run accident?

In an area of town with the least number of surveillance cameras of anywhere in the city. When the few cameras that were in operation caught nothing. Yeah, this might be a smoking gun.

A stab of pain shoots through my head. Fuck. Kinsley is not going to want to hear this. It’s bad enough her father is dead. She doesn’t need the possibility of it being murder piled onto her already full plate.

Great. Look who gets to be the bearer of bad news. Again.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Kinsley

Down the street, a dog barks and uses its front paws to rattle the security fence. The boxer-mix lunges again and breaks into another fit of‘Get out of my neighborhood’barks. I shiver, ring the doorbell, and wait. What is taking him so long? I lift my hand to poke the doorbell again, and the door swings open.

He’s holding a T-shirt in one hand and rubbing a towel over his head. At his feet is a fawn and sable dog. Well, it’s not really at his feet. The animal is seated on his haunches, but his head rests mid-thigh. The dog doesn’t bark like the one on the street.

“Sorry, Baby.” He props the door open against his upper arm. “This is my dog, Mac. He’s a Belgian Malinois.”

“Is he friendly?” I wasn’t expecting Leo to have a dog, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Nor should I have been shocked by the kind of dog he’d have. This is a manly pet and not a froufrou dog.

“He’s well trained and won’t hurt anyone unless I give him the command. I hope you don’t mind that he’s here. I’ve had him boarded until I got settled in.”

“Hey, there, Mac.” I lean down and let Mac sniff my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” The dog licks my fingers and almost smiles up at Leo.

“That’s a good boy.” He scrunches over and scratches the dog’s head. “Now, go lay down.”

Mac turns in a circle, pads over to the sofa, hops up, and plops down on the cushions. The room is tidy, but there’s not a lot of furniture. A sofa, a recliner, and a dinning room table and chairs.

“He’s my buddy.” Droplets of water trail down his neck. Lord, my mouth waters. The man is too pretty for his own good.

I frown. But he showered without me. I could have used a nice, hot, steaming shower to…. I tilt my head and sigh. Those nipple bars do insane things to my lady bits.

“Sorry, Babe.” One corner of his mouth raises as if he’s following my train of thought. “I lost track of time.”

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