Page 10 of Sin City Obsession

Murphy tilted his head to glare around her phone. “No, you obnoxious brat, I do not recognizethat man.Why?”

Alessa held her tongue, swiped to the computer rendering Brandi had generated of Ralph George, and turned the image outward again. “What about this one?”

“Oh for—”

Alessa leaned forward, resting her free palm on the desk and pushing her phone closer to Murphy’s face. “Look closely, Mr. Murphy. I won’t ask again, and it’s real important you answer honestly here. Think carefully now. Do you recognize this man? His name is Ralph George. I’m looking for his employer.”

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Murphy’s face and he studied her phone again. “I … I might recognize this one, vaguely.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t tell you who he works for.”

“Can’t?” Alessa tilted her head to emphasize the question. “Or won’t?”

Murphy narrowed his eyes again, anger retaking him. “Can’t, dammit! Look, I don’t have a good association with that face, but I’m not sure I would have remembered his name if you hadn’t said it and I definitely never knew who held his leash.” He sucked in a hard breath. “If you want to know more about that kind of guy, you need to be talking to the people he dealt with.”

“Being?”

He dipped his head enough that the glasses slid faintly down his nose. “Really?”

Alessa tucked her phone away, scooted Murphy’s nameplate aside, and rested her butt on the edge of his desk like she had all the time in the world to continue their chat. “Explain it to melike I’m in grade school. Where would you, a man of experience in this field, go searching for information on Ralph George?”

Murphy let out an aggravated sigh, adjusted his glasses, and slumped back in his seat. “West Las Vegas is your best bet,” he said with a disdainful curl of his lip. “You could try Buffalo if that doesn’t pan out.” He adjusted in his chair. “I don’t recommend strolling through those neighborhoods with anything of value on your person, or in a vehicle you want to keep. Now, if you don’t mind, get the fuck out of my office.”

Chapter four

Overboard

Rocco closed out ofhis email as he accepted Alessa’s call, and he did his damnedest to ignore the pang in his chest at her name on the screen. It was infuriating the way just thinking about the woman messed him up.

He needed to find an excuse to get closer to her.

“Miss me already?” he teased by way of greeting.

She huffed and a car door shut in the background. “I need to take advantage of you.”

Rocco grinned and leaned back in his chair.

“Youhave a copy of those lists, right? With the usurers’ names?”

“I do.” He glanced at the time-stamp on his monitor. It was nearing noon, but even if she hadn’t taken a single break since he’d seen her at breakfast, she couldn’t possibly have gone through all the local names so quickly.

“We’ve run down about half a dozen—twice literally—and the only thing we’re getting out of most of these sleaze bags is that we should be concentrating on the operations in the West Las Vegas area.”

Rocco tucked his phone against his shoulder and rolled closer to his desk, navigating swiftly to where he’d saved the lists in question. “Does make some sense,” he said.

“Chatty says it’s not your best neighborhood, so I’m inclined to agree with the logic,” Alessa replied. “And I figure if five out of the seven assholes we’ve flushed so far are singing the same tune, it’s more likely true than any grand conspiracy.”

Rocco couldn’t help grinning when he realized what—rather,who—she had been referring to as chatty. Ignazio really wasn’t their most conversational character. Then the rest of her words connected with his brain and the grin slipped from his face. Instinct, and probably years of a similar life, told him he was missing something. “Did the other two sing a different matching song?”

Alessa made a sound like a snort. “One guy tripped over his own damn feet trying to literally run away and cracked his head, knocked himself flat out. I didn’t feel like hanging around or trailing him to the hospital. The only thing Idoknow is that he thoughtwe were Feds.”

Rocco’s lips twitched.

“The latest guy was a pig,” she continued, annoyance slipping into her tone. “Spat on me and declared he wouldn’t tell me shit even if I sucked his dick. So I figure—”

Rage seared with an unexpected fury through Rocco’s blood. “Who?”

Alessa hesitated. “Excuse me?”

“Who fucking spaton you?”

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