Page 69 of Swerve
The ex-agent had found her a juicy piece of leverage that provided her with ample confidence that letting him visit Hotel California with Senator Hagan would not be an unwise move.
The senator had asked for two appointments this evening. He would be bringing the younger senator for dinner with dessert scheduled at ten p.m. She thought it would be a good idea to serve up her newest project for the younger senator’s first time.
Based on the ex-agent’s revelations, the delectable Mia should still be in the age range of what suited his well-hidden tastes. In fact, they would make her appear younger for the occasion. A little less makeup, a dress with some lace here and there, and they would make the senator extra happy. So happy, that she had no doubt he would be a return customer. Trapped, like all the others, by the need to feed his own desires.
No matter the cost.
Knox
“How ridiculous and how strange to be surprised at anything which happens in life.”
?Marcus Aurelius
HE RECOGNIZES DAWSON Healy’s unmarked car sitting in front of the retail store. He considers circling the block and waiting for them to leave. Healy won’t be a problem. But his partner will. Nonetheless, he’ll get information out of Healy he won’t be able to get elsewhere, so it’s worth the risk. And there’s the fact that Healy will probably talk his partner down from the ledge of reporting back to the chief.
He’s just cut the engine to the Jeep when Healy and Detective Marsha Rutgers walk out of the store, headed for his black sedan. “Stay here, okay?” he says to Emory and gets out, calling, “Hey, Healy.”
The detective turns, a smile accompanying his look of surprise when he spots Knox. “What are you doing here?” he asks, covering the sidewalk between them in a few long strides. He claps Knox’s shoulder with a wide-palmed hand. “That’s just shit about your disciplinary leave, man.”
“I’m calling it unpaid vacation.”
“The unpaid part sucks.”
“Thought I might head down to the Bahamas for some sun and fun.”
“You? Yeah, right.”
“Not convincing, huh?”
“Not in the least. So what are you doing here? I heard you’re temping for the sister of that missing girl.”
Knox shrugs. “Yeah. I assume you’re here on the murder last night?”
Healy nods. “Didn’t get anything promising in there though. What were you doing here last night? Some connection between the missing teenagers and this girl?”
“Maybe. She was seeing a Colombian guy who bought clothes here. I think he might be the same guy I spotted on security footage at the music festival the two girls attended the night they disappeared.”
“And he offed her for talking to you?”
“Looks that way.”
“Damn. Any leads on the guy?”
Marsha Rutgers saunters over, nailing Knox with a you-know-better glare. She’s five-five and bench presses three hundred and twenty-five. It’s a well-known fact around the department that Detective Rutgers will chase a perp down like a German-trained dog given the Fass! command. “What are you doing here, Healy?” she asks, even though it’s clear she already knows.
“Shopping. You?”
“Like hell you are. You’re on leave. Or did you forget?”
“I haven’t forgotten. Need some new clothes for my unexpected vacation.”
“You wouldn’t be in that particular boat if you hadn’t been dicking around with a senator’s wife.”
“Language, Rutgers,” Healy admonishes, folding his arms across his chest. “Helmer has a right to shop wherever he wants. I noticed they’re having a good sale.”
She leans back and gives him a silencing stare. “Do I look like I just fell off the turnip truck?”
“Actually, you’re looking pretty hot today, Rutgers,” Healy says, grinning. “If you’d like to practice that bench press, I’m pushing three hundred these days. I’ll volunteer my body.”
