Page 88 of Petty's Crime

“You’re wrong.” I try to calm my tone, remembering he’s still got the gun, and apparently no reason to think kindly of me. “I was born to Rufus and Martina Blakeney. I’m there only child. Anything else is just coincidence.”

“The fucking Blakeneys.” He says the name as though it’s a swear word. “They ruined my life, and now I’m going to ruin theirs.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

Petty

My pains disappear into insignificance, my physical limitations an annoyance, but as in the past, I can, and will, ignore them. Even Britney and the dire result of her machinations is of no consequence. Red is right. Taking my anger out on her wouldn’t help. And if this fucker wanted to take RoseLyn, he probably would have gotten her, whether Britney had taken me out of action or not.

What matters is finding RoseLyn. Everything else can wait.

While conversations are continuing around me, I put my head into my hands.Think, man. Think.I run back over every conversation with RoseLyn in my head, the wording of all the notes she received, and that visit to her parents. But try as I might, nothing sticks out.

Prez gets a prospect to bring in coffees for all of us, and Roller forces some painkillers into my hand. Around me conversations are going on much like the analysis I’ve just done in my mind. We’ve fuck all to go on. All our hopes are pinned on our brothers in Utah. It’s so damn frustrating. If I had a direction, even hurt as I am, I’d be out searching on my bike.

I fight off the waves of despair that threaten to overwhelm me with the thought that the one woman who ever fought on my side has been stolen from me. Even if there could never be anything between us, more on her part now than mine, my blinders have come off. I can’t cope with the thought of her suffering. She doesn’t deserve that.

Time seems to slow. It could be just minutes though it feels like hours before Keys exclaims, “Fuck, those Utah boys are hot. Here’s the man, brothers.” Turning his laptop screen around, men stand and lean forward blocking my view.

I growl, showing my annoyance, and taking pity on me, Roller pushes the laptop across. Feeling men crowding around me, I view the cleaned-up picture from the Blakeney’s security camera.

He’s pleasant looking, enough so I can see what got Martina giddy. He’s got dark hair, and is wearing gold-rimmed glasses. His cheeks are on the side of chubby. He’s standing straight, shoulders back, an aura of confidence about him.

“Anyone seen him before?” Red asks.

I look around, but like me, everyone’s shaking their heads.

Keys retrieves his laptop and stabs at a few keys. “Whoa.” His eyebrows rise, and he peers closely at his screen again. “Honor’s just pointed out this man’s in disguise. He’s wearing a wig, and he suspects there’s prosthetics in his cheeks.”

“How the fuck does he know?”

Keys furiously taps for a moment again, waits and reads a reply, then he snorts. “Apparently the wig is because the colouring doesn’t match his complexion, and as for his cheeks, the skin looks stretched.” He stares at his screen in consternation as though trying to see what Honor’s pointed out. Shrugging, he says, “Well, let’s try this one, Brothers.” Now he’s turning his laptop around again. “Honor’s mocked up the image, thinning out the cheeks, removing the glasses, and there’s a variety of hair colourings.”

Impatiently I wait for the screen to face me once more, then lean forward and look at the half dozen connotations of the revised image now visible to me. My eyes home in on the blond version for some reason, a niggling at the back of my mind.

“He looks familiar.” I’m only half-conscious I’m speaking aloud.

“Same, Bro,” Cobra confirms. He creases his eyes as if to see better. “Though fuck knows where I’ve seen him.”

“In the audience, maybe?”

I think it’s a certainty he’s been watching her shows. I probably just haven’t noticed anything suspicious about him.

Keys retrieves his laptop and checks his messages. “Honor’s getting hits on the facial recognition. Because he’s had to make some guesses, he’s checking through them.”

“Can we get some security footage of the casino?” Red asks. “See if there’s anyone in the audience that resembles this fucker?”

“On it, Prez.” Keys fingers start to fly once again. When he gets the file he wants, he comes around my side of the table, waves Roller out of his seat, and plants himself beside me. “You were there most often, Petty. Recognise anyone?”

Remembering the guy could be in disguise, I look very carefully, focusing on height and build rather than hair colour. It’s hard to tell, but he could have been there. There are a few people that are likely, though no clear facial shots that would help Honor locate him.

More refreshments are brought in. Though there are sandwiches, my stomach rebels at the thought of eating them. With every minute that passes with no further clues, I’m more and more worried about RoseLyn, and what the fucker might be doing to her.

Raping her?Fuck no, how could she live with that? Being violated is something I have some experience of, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Why else would he want her? It was Saul who’s been stalking her these past months, not anyone else.

My hands fist.

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