Page 33 of Heart Stopping
Archer, on the other hand, was also perching, glancing around himself like a sword might come flying out of the wall and decapitate him.
That was ridiculous. I didn't need a sword coming out of the wall. I kept a garrote in my top drawer. And a knife. And, if push came to shove, a gun in the second drawer.
No one ever said Edward Bonegard was unprepared. If they did, they didn't say it for long, because I proved them wrong. The dumpster out the back was emptied regularly, I saw to that.
"Okay, what's this about ‘someone like Carl?’"
CHAPTER 13
HARLOW
Archer gave Boner the side-eye. A sentence I wouldn't have imagined thinking a couple of weeks ago.
"We can trust him," I assured Archer.
"Yeah, you can," Boner said. "Out with it, Hardman."
"Hardwick," Archer corrected.
Boner flapped his hands at him. "Whatever. Spill the coffee."
"Don't you mean spill the tea?" I squinted at him.
"I don't like wasting perfectly good tea." He grinned at me, then gave me a wink.
Archer sat still through all of this, his expression unchanged. Somewhere between unimpressed and slightly bored. His hand twitched like he wanted to scroll on his phone while we were bantering. Another minute or two and he'd probably whip it out.
His phone, that was.
"So anyway," I said. "Archer, you have a lead on someone we need to deal with."
Staying impassive was a challenge. If he knew something, knewsomeonethat was doing terrible things to women and girls, I wanted to deal with them then and there. Before they could do anything else. I'd had to learn patience over the years, but I still didn't like it.
"We know the names of the first three men who took your sister," Archer said slowly.
I nodded. I hated saying them out loud, but I'd said them in my head over and over so many times it was like a classic rock track in the back of my brain. An earworm.
"Fred Alonzo. George Wentworth. Oscar Hetherington." I wanted to vigorously brush my teeth to get the taste of those names out of my mouth. Maybe step into a hot shower and scrub my skin until it was raw.
Boner turned his face slowly to stare at me. "You're the one who ended George Wentworth? I knew you were hot. That guy gave scumbag slugs a bad name. Tell me he died slowly." His eyes were wide, eager for the gory details.
"Very slowly," I said. "He had some regrets in the end." As for me, I had none. Except to wonder if he suffered enough.
Boner rubbed his hands together. "I fucking love that for him. I wish I was there to see it."
"If you're lucky, you might be there to see the next one go," I said, nodding for Archer to continue.
"One of my contacts found a connection between them and a man named Granger Fairfield," Archer said. "It seemed like they operated in a pack. Sometimes with several girls between them, sometimes with one."
I knew all of that, but it still made me sick to my stomach.
"Any chance you've been able to find the other three?" Absently I rubbed the tattoo on my arm.
"No." Archer's usually guarded face now showed a hint of regret. "I've tried asking around, but if I poke too much, they'll know we're looking."
"We?" Boner asked. "Are you two…" He flicked a finger back and forth between me and Archer.
"Friends," I said at the same time as Archer said, "Associates."
