Page 21 of Painted Scars
Katar tears off more candy. “Daddy issues deluxe.”
I stick to the topic. “Has she had any contact with him since?”
Grayson shakes his head. “Not that I can find. No emails, calls, or inheritance. She’s not listed on the family trust.”
Exiled as well as estranged. I can work with that.
“That’s not all.” Grayson’s in his element, calling up all the records he hacks from the court archives. “I filtered her mail records from her utility companies, banks, etcetera, and foundthis." A city council fine loads next to the notes recorded by the officer.
“Noise violation for nuisance dog,” I read. “I knew that goddamn neighbor was up to no good!”
Grayson loads more evidence. “He’s submitted three this year for surrounding properties.”
I’m already standing.
Grayson arches a brow. “You’re not going over there.”
“Why not?” I crack the tension in my neck. “Winning her trust is my new job description.”
Katar looks delighted. “Want me to bring the shovel?”
“I want to know what you found out about Murder Spice,” I reply.
He withdraws a pair of red silk panties from his jacket pocket, presses them to his nose, and takes a long inhale. “She’s been in an institute like me. Committed for insanity for killing her stepfather.”
I stare until he crushes the panties in his hand and tucks them away. “Don’t compromise the mission with your dick.”
Katar grins. “Relax. I can multitask.”
When he clears out to conduct recon, I’m on the warpath. This week’s been a string of failures that have resulted in the mission slipping. Now I’ve got to get up close and personal with Kate. Her smile is a weapon that threatens to make my heart beat. Her damn name is on my tongue, and I need to burn it off. Harry, the old neighbor, made it even uglier, and I’m about to level the playing field.
I suit up in armored riding gear—blackShieldjacket and matching pants, gloves, and boots. Plenty of protection if I get knocked off my bike. I ride my Lightning LS-218 and park three blocks away, out of view of cameras and this asshole’s security system.
Schuberthhelmet on, I march up his driveway, too calm for the storm brewing in my chest. I navigate through his neat garden, up the porch steps, and stop myself from kicking the door in. Barely.
I make three sharp knocks and wait.
“I’ll get it,” the old man says, his footsteps padding down the hallway.
“Get out here, old man,” I warn through the wood separating us.
“Get off my property, or I’m calling the police.” His voice wavers.
Police? Cute. They don’t get involved in neighborhood disputes, except when someone is injured or uses violence and intimidation, neither of which Kate is guilty of. Me, on the other hand…
“Call them,” I growl, giving Harry five seconds before I go on. “Pick up the phone and rescind your Council complaint about your neighbor’s dog while you’re at it. We both know it isn’t a nuisance.”
“Suze,” he croaks to someone inside. Wife? Relative? Nurse? “Call the police, please. There’s a man at our door threatening me.”
I slam my fist against the door hard enough to make the frame shudder. “You haven’t seen threatening yet. Take back your complaint. Or I’ll be back, and next time, I won’t knock.”
Harry whimpers. “I’ll… I’ll call them now.”
Good.
I turn, descend the steps, and slam the gate behind me. The metal clang echoes down the empty street.
I pause in front of Kate’s fence. Her car’s not there. She’s not home yet. It’s easier to pretend this isn’t personal if I don’t see her face. Except her face is seared behind my eyes. I know the curve of her lips when she bites them to stay quiet. The flare ofher nostrils when she’s about to pick a fight. Things I shouldn’t know and can’t forget.
