Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
"A Chihuahua?"
"He thinks he's a goddamn Malinois," I mutter, scratching behind his ears. "Don't try to pet him. He may try to take a finger off."
Finn chuckles, glancing around the shop. "Been wondering what the fuck was in here. Scarlett is fascinated by all the crystals in the window. Aithne's granddaughter owns the place, right?"
I don't bother to ask how he knows that. Even if this weren't Silver Spoon Falls where everyone knows everyone, Finn would know. Every damn governmental agency from here to Japan has tried to hire him at one point. He can hack his way into anything.
"Yeah, Hope." I carry Kieve across the shop and deposit him behind the counter before locking the gate. He barks at Finn once and then discovers the bone he abandoned last night and launches himself at it. "She's the reason I called you, actually."
"Figured as much. Cormac said you were taking her case while he's in Florida." He picks an amethyst geode up from a shelf, hefting it in his hands. "What's up, brother? What do you need?"
"I need you to look into a couple of people for me. Her neighbor, Silas Wembley, and Thomas Huntington, who works for Ransom Oil. Both have been making nuisances of themselves."
"Ransom Oil." His expression hardens. "They're sniffing around?"
"They want her property," I confirm. "Her grandmother struck oil on it decades ago. I guess they caught wind of it and have been hounding her to sell. She's not interested."
"They've got a reputation." Finn sets the geode back on the shelf. "They were run out of Midland because of the way they went about buying up property from competitors. It cost them millions when it went to court."
"Did they get aggressive?"
"They got dirty," he says carefully. "Tried to compromise operations. One of their guys was convicted on racketeering charges."
"Jesus." I blow out a breath. "How long ago was this?"
"Ten, fifteen years ago?" Finn rubs his jaw. "It's been a hot minute. I only remember it because I did some work for the other company a few years back and came across some of the records when I was pillaging their system." He grins, his eyes dancing with humor. "I always get the good shit."
"I know. That's why I need you now." I grab a pen from the pen cup and use it to drag the letter across the counter for him to read. "This was waiting when we got here this morning. Don't touch it. Dillon needs to run it for prints."
He leans over the counter, his eyes scanning across the note. "Jesus Christ," he growls, his expression darkening. "Who the fuck leaves some shit like that for a woman?"
"That's exactly what I'd like to know. Dillon is doing what he can, but he's bound by the law. You aren't." I let that hang, knowing I don't need to say anything else. He knows exactly what I'm asking him to do. It's not the first time. Hell, I doubt it'll be the last time, either. Sometimes, the only way we can protect the people who need protecting is to navigate around the law.
Hacking isn't legal. But every law enforcement agency in the country would hesitate before hauling Finn in on charges. That's the kind of pull he has. I need that right now. Before the motherfucker terrorizing my woman has a chance to get close to her again.
"Give me a few days," Finn says without hesitation. "If there's anything to find, I'll find it."
"What was Finn doing here?" Dillon asks half an hour later, stomping into the shop like he owns the place.
"Shopping," I say, which is only partially a lie. He left here with a bag of stuff for his wife. "His wife likes the crystals in the window."
"You really think you can sell me that oceanfront property in Arizona, don't you?" Dillon cocks a brow at me, letting me know he isn't buying my bullshit. "What was he really doing here, Callum?"
"His wife likes the crystals in the window. If you hurry, I'm sure you can make it out there in time to check his receipt."
Dillon hits me with a hard look, the one they perfect in cop school. "We both know you're full of shit," he growls. "How about you tell me who you asked him to look into and save me the trouble of doing it myself?"
"Fuck" I curse. "You just can't leave shit alone, can you? He's looking into everyone on my fucking list—Silas, Huntington, and Ransom Oil." I shoot him a baleful glare. "You might want to do some digging on Ransom Oil while you're at it. They were run out of Midland, Texas fifteen years ago for pulling shit like this."
He grunts, reaching into his pocket to pull out a pair of gloves. "Let me see the note you found this morning."