Page 35 of Tainted Truth

You’re going to die, man. Get over it.

There are a few gruff greetings from what I assume are bouncers and security. Then booming music with a heavy downbeat blasts through my laptop. When the music fades, a deep baritone voice says, “The boss says he’ll speak with you now.”

“O-okay.”

“Pffft. He’s going to have to pull it together if he wants to survive more than ten seconds,” Rio comments as he munches away on our food.

“Shhhh. We need to listen,” I snap back.

A voice, I’m assuming belongs to Cain, says, “Ah, Dustin, my friend. Good to see you.”

“You know who I am?”

A new voice joins the fray. “Of course. We never forget a face. Especially one who has been so essential on our road to success.”

“Oh. Um. Are you Cain?”

“No, no. Cain couldn’t be here today. Pardon my lack of manners. I’m Anthony Cole, and this is my associate Pierce Murphy.Come and have a drink with us.”

“Sure. Okay. That’s a cool tattoo you have there. The sk?—”

“An impulse decision. Ignore it.”

My fingers tap my thigh in a frantic rhythm. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s worse. No Cain, or Anthony being there.”

Rio nods. “At least we know for sure that Spencer’s ex is in New York.”

There’s a clank of glass from the speaker and more conversation.

“Oh shit. What happened to your hands, Dustin? That looks awful.”Pierce questions with a chuckle.

“Uh. A work accident.”

“That’s some nasty accident. How did it happen?”

“I was . . . Umm . . . Chasing a shoplifter, and he came at me with a knife.”

Rubbing the back of my neck, I comment, “I didn’t realize he was so dumb. A shoplifter? He’s fucked.”

“You got that right.” Rio shakes his head.

“A simple shoplifter did all that? You hear that, Anthony?”

“I did. Shoplifters must be tougher in New York.” There’s a rustle of fabric, and Anthony’s voice comes through louder. “So, update me, Dustin. How’s the little issue Cain tasked you with taking care of?”

“It’s done. No problem at all.”

“Good man, Dustin. Cain will be happy to hear it. Now, tell me, where’s your partner? Troy, I believe, is his name.”

Dustin stutters through his answer yet again. “He’s . . . Uh . . . at home. With his wife. Yeah, it’s her birthday.”

“We’re not going to get anything. Dustin is useless. There’s a reason he’s never made detective.” A heavy sigh releases from my chest.

“I wonder what the reason was,” Rio deadpans.

“Well, thank you for coming in. Cain will be in touch soon with your next assignment.”

“Oh. Okay. Th—thank you.”

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