Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“How do you expect me to do that?” Whizz asked. “If I could find her, I would.”
“Tell him, Charlotte.”
She rolled her eyes. “Have you seen that room he has set up? I’m surprised he hasn’t found her already. You said so yourself, there’s always a paper trail.”
“Yeah, there is, but some people can make shit disappear, and it takes a little longer to find it. Tell me what you’ve got, and I can go ahead and find it.” Whizz took a muffin that was on the counter, and bit into it.
Charlotte frowned as she watched him turn green then spit out the chewed up muffin. “Babe, you used salt in place of sugar.”
“What?”
Lacey took the muffin from him and bit into it, doing exactly the same thing that he had done. “Shit, I sent Sally to school with two of them.”
“Yeah, she’s going to throw them in the trash.”
Whizz filled a glass with water and then nodded toward his room. “Let’s go.”
Gash waited for Charlotte to follow, and she did so with her arms folded. He loved her attitude, the fight inside her. She wasn’t broken.
Entering the room, Gash was amazed. “Shit, I thought your room at the clubhouse was damn creepy.”
“Now I can control my own world.” Whizz did a maniacal laugh, then sat down. “So, what did I miss?”
“I don’t know if you missed it or if it didn’t go anywhere. In the city there was this apartment she went to that was supposed to be in her name.”
“Give me a second. When I did a search under her name, no apartment appeared. It would have if she bought it or even rented it.” Whizz started clicking, and the speed with which his fingers were moving were giving Gash a headache. The bastard wasn’t even staring at the keyboard but at the screen.
“Nope, nothing is registered under her name. Only her residence, which is your old address, Charlie.”
“Charlie?” Gash asked.
“What about it?” Whizz said. “I figure she and I are going to be good friends.”
“I don’t mind,” Charlotte said.
“Lacey’s a bad influence.”
“I say that every time she rides my dick.”
Gash glared, and Charlotte laughed. “Is this the whole MC image thing?”
“You bet. Now, back to crime fighting. There’s nothing here. Rebecca was a poor girl, with a shitty job, and no hope out of her shitty life. Do you have an address?”
“She wouldn’t remember,” Gash said, pissed that it was another fucking dead end.
“Actually, I do.”
“How did you remember that?” Gash asked. “It has been over seven years.”
“She put the address on the refrigerator, and it’s what I saw for months, and I recited the shit out of it while waiting for the kettle to boil,” Charlotte said. “She was always bragging about how she bagged this rich guy.” She shrugged, holding her hand out. “There’s not a lot to say. Rebecca was easy.”
“She sounds like a fucking whore,” Whizz said.
Charlotte gave Whizz the address, to which his club brother whistled.
“What?” Gash asked.
“It’s a fucking good part of the city. I’m talking seriously elite, exclusive kind of shit.” Whizz shook his head. “Rebecca may have found herself a sugar daddy, or she was in deep shit.”
“Deep shit?” Charlotte asked.
“You get into that kind of apartment three ways. You’re either rich—Rebecca wasn’t. You’re fucking someone who is rich, or you’re a criminal with money, and I’m talking high shit in the criminal world, mafia kind of money.”
Gash shook his head. “That shit’s not good.”
“No, it’s not.” Whizz kept on typing, and something red came up.
Gash saw access was being denied, and Whizz simply kept on whistling while typing away.
“What’s he doing?” Charlotte asked in a whisper.
“Nerd shit.”
She smelled so good, and Gash fisted his hands to stop himself from reaching out to her. What was it about Charlotte that made him want to touch? To caress? To fuck?
Shit, she was driving him crazy with the need to fuck her.
He wasn’t some damn stupid adolescent boy who’d never known a fucking cunt.
Running a hand down his face, he held in a groan as his cock thickened when Whizz whistled.
“Well, fuck me,” Whizz said.
Looking up at the screen, Gash frowned. “What is that?”
“It’s the owner of the apartment. It wasn’t in Rebecca’s name, but whoever that man is, he wanted it kept secret.”
Gash stared at the photograph of the man, and something seemed oddly familiar about him, but again, he couldn’t figure out what.
“Who is it?” he asked, then looked toward Charlotte. “Do you recognize him?”
“Not a clue.”
Whizz did some clicking. “This used to be Rebecca’s apartment. It’s registered to Rebecca and Jeff, and there is the signature of the deed. The date here is just before the supposed murder and rape, so they didn’t own this for long before you were arrested, Gash.”
Charlotte moved in closer to the screen. “Enhance his face.”