Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
It did the same now.
She reached to pull out the empty chair and patted the seat.
He could see why her ex found her emasculating.
Rus, on the other hand, was mentally cataloguing all the shit she was pulling in the event he could get his back when he had her naked.
He sat.
A female server was at his side instantly.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked.
“Beer,” he told her.
“We have—”
He interrupted her. “It’s gotta be cold and wet, that’s it. You pick.”
Her panicked gaze flew to Lucinda, her need to provide the best service she could to her boss’s guest right in front of her boss at odds with his request.
“Let Morley decide,” Lucinda ordered.
The server took off.
“Morley?” he asked.
“Our bartender. She’s the best mixologist in Washington.”
“I do beer and I do scotch. A bourbon if it’s smooth. Vodka if there’s tonic. That’d be lost on me.”
She picked up her martini glass and murmured, “That’s too bad.”
He was reminded he needed to put a lock on it.
Earlier when he was there, it was fun, his day had only been half-frustrating by that point, with the promise of her and a good sandwich in the middle of it, and she’d delivered on both.
Now he was tired, grouchy, at loose ends in finding the killer of a beautiful, dead woman who many people liked a whole lot, and she had unicorns on her socks, so he picked his strategy and went for it.
“I think I already shared I’m not into playing games, Lucinda.”
“I’m not either, Rus.”
“I’m able to feed myself. I’m not here to eat. I’m not here to flirt. I’m here to observe and talk to your staff.”
“I know why you’re here.”
“So maybe I should do that and not drink a beer with you, with my back to the room.”
“I know my customers. I’ve spent time in this building since I was able to walk.”
“And?”
“And I’d like to know how your evening went and who you talked to.”
“I’ve told you I can’t discuss the case with you.”
“And I just told you I know my customers. You met with them. I don’t know which ones they were. But I could guess. I can also tell you if they’re full of shit, or if you got the truth out of them.”
Damn.
Now he wanted her take.
“Ezra Corbin and Lance Shultz,” she guessed.
Got both in one.
Fuck.
“Why were those your picks?” he asked.
“Because Ezra Corbin fucked Audrey Pulaski, though somehow he flew under the radar of the OGs, probably because his wife never found out. I warned Britt there was nothing there for her. He’s a serial philanderer. And he’s able to do this because his wife travels for business. And Lance Shultz because he was the only single man on that list.”
“Audrey Pulaski?”
“The mother of Alice, the eight-year-old Ray Andrews killed when he started his reign of terror.”
“Jesus,” he muttered as his beer was served.
This also meant that the OGs she referred to were the wives club that outed their cheating husbands in the most explicit way imaginable.
All of them had had an affair with Audrey Pulaski.
But Ezra dodged that bullet, a fact Rus found surprising, because the guy was full of himself, had all the answers at the ready, but Rus still got the impression he wasn’t all that bright.
Now he knew why, if Ezra stepped out on his wife frequently and he was still married to her.
When it came to lying, practice makes perfect.
“Are you going to refuse food?” Lucinda asked, cutting into his thoughts.
“You got a steak?”
“Filet, rib-eye or strip?”
He turned to the server. “Rib-eye. Medium rare. And some of those potato chips.”
“Angelina’s twice-baked potatoes have won awards,” Lucinda noted.
“Change it to that,” he said to the server.
The server nodded and took off again.
Rus took a draw from his beer.
Yeah, Morley knew what she was doing.
“Let me guess, Ezra was smooth as room temperature butter and Lance was freaked out,” Lucinda deduced.
And again, got it in one.
She could be helpful, he knew, because she was being helpful.
And she wanted desperately to help.
He had a bad guy to catch, so why was he fighting it?
“According to Ezra, he’d spoken to Brittanie once between dances when he was here entertaining business associates.”
Because he was sharing, the relief and gratitude in her eyes that she let him see made her so beautiful, it nearly bought her a kiss.
He managed to control himself.
She spoke. “He lied.”
“I know. He was very sorry to hear of her death. But although he understood we were just doing our jobs, he was frustrated to have two visits in a day from the sheriff, since he absolutely knew not one thing about her, outside the fact she worked here.”
“Do you like him for it?”
He felt his lips twitch at her terminology.
So she watched cop shows.
“I think he’s good at lying. I’m not sure that extends to being good at getting away with murder. His veneer is thin. He strikes me as kind of a moron.”