Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
A conversation with their DA, and Harry knew it was unlikely he was going to be able to do much with those fucks, but he was still going to try to get one or several of them to flip so they’d testify against Dern.
Nothing from Cheryl Ballard. Nothing from the Dietrichs.
That said, Cheryl’s sister was freaked, and the Dietrichs’ son was attempting to hide it, but he was too. The Roy Farrell news shook them (and his death was ruled a homicide, as suspected, there were sedatives in his gut, but he also had two missing teeth and a fractured jaw—Harry didn’t like the guy, but it was good to know at least he didn’t go down without a fight).
The sister had promised to share if she heard anything from Cheryl.
Rus felt the son was going to cave soon.
But for Harry, already it wasn’t soon enough.
“If he was smart he’d be in Canada or Mexico,” Rus went on. “I didn’t know him. So far, he doesn’t seem smart to me. But if he’s close and hiding, he’s really damned good at it.”
“He’s hunting,” Harry said.
Rus’s expression was grim when he nodded in agreement.
“Got no more, as much as it fucks me to say,” Rus remarked.
As frustration bubbled inside him, Lillian’s words came to him. Trust the process.
“Lill told me to trust the process,” Harry shared.
Rus cocked his head to the side in surprise.
“She’s more chill about this than I am, and she’s got more riding on it,” Harry explained.
“She seems pretty chill on the whole.”
Harry’s lips tipped up. “My first middle-of-the-night callout, she asked if I wanted her to make me coffee, and when I said no, she went right back to sleep. Got in later than she expected, she offered to make me breakfast.”
Now Rus’s lips were tipped up. “Damn, brother.”
“I know,” Harry agreed.
“Happy as fuck for you,” Rus said quietly.
It wasn’t too long ago, the two of them sat in this same office, sharing Irish whisky, Harry talking about Winnie, one of the first times he ever shared deeply about his loss, Rus listening.
And now there was this.
Rus’s eyes went to the credenza, and Harry knew what he was looking at.
The picture of Winnie was still there.
Harry hadn’t decided if it would remain. He’d moved on, but she’d always have a place in his heart and his life.
What he did decide was that he was going to task Polly with finding a nice frame and then he was going to frame the picture George took of them on Lillian’s front steps after they got the Halloween decorations done last Saturday. And that was going to go on the credenza too.
“Never thought…” Harry didn’t finish that.
Harry’s phone went as Rus said, “That’s just when she hits you, man. When you’ve given up.”
“Seems like,” Harry replied, reaching for his phone.
“Well, at least that’s what happened to you and me,” Rus said, straightening from his chair.
He looked at the line then answered, “Hey, Polly.”
“Rita Zowkower is here for you,” she snapped.
He knew her tone meant she tried to put Rita off, and Rita was having none of it.
So be it.
This was something else he was anticipating that took longer than he expected to happen.
“Can you bring her in?”
“I don’t want to, but I will,” Polly said and hung up on him.
“Ma Zow,” he told Rus as he put the receiver back in its cradle.
“Want me to stay?” Rus asked.
“Probably best, since this is now personal, and she’s a wildcard, a wily one. Got the time?”
Rus answered that by resuming his seat.
Polly stormed in and flung an arm behind her as Rita walked in after her.
“The madame is here,” Polly announced.
He should admonish her (not now, later), but he wasn’t going to. It was rare to nonexistent when Polly put a foot wrong. If she felt animosity toward Rita, there was a reason.
Anyway, unless Rita was there to report a crime, which she could take her pick of deputies to report it to, Harry knew Rita had wheedled her way to where she was right then, and maybe how she did it, courtesy wasn’t called for.
Polly stormed out and Harry and Rus stood.
“How can we help you, Rita?” Harry asked.
Her eyes went to Rus, then she said to Harry, “I’d prefer this be private.”
“I prefer it wasn’t,” Harry returned.
Her lips thinned.
“Have a seat,” Harry invited as he took his own.
Rus resumed his again as well.
She came forward and sat.
Harry rested his forearms on the desk. “Now, how can we help?”
She again shot a glance at Rus.
“Rita,” Harry called her attention back to him, “I know you know we’re busy. If there’s something we can do for you, it’d help if you got us started.”
“My boy wants to see his wife,” she bit off.
Harry refused to rise to the bait.
“I’m not sure he has a legal one of those,” Harry noted.