Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“So long as it’s cold, I don’t care. What do you want to know first?”
“Did he say anything?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Yeah, he said he saw me lift your wallet.”
Whoever this was, he’d been watching me. Maybe lying in wait, trying to find his opening to lift the wallet himself or take it by force.
But who the fuck could it have been?
I’d been working this job quiet as a fucking mouse. Cosimo didn’t know. My family didn’t. So there was no way that the word had gotten out that way.
Which only left people who’d been involved with the job. Or anyone they had possibly spoken to.
Which, yeah, didn’t fare well for me. Suspects could be in the dozens, hundreds.
Fuck.
“Did you see him?” I asked.
“At first, he had on the ski mask. But in the struggle, I pulled it off.”
“Any chance you happen to be a whiz at sketching?”
“Sure,” she said, but there was a sarcastic tug to her lips. “If you want a stick figure. A lopsided one.”
I let out a small huff of a laugh as our drinks were dropped off, watching Max reach for it like a lifeline, then savor the cold first sip.
“Alright. Well, do you think you would recognize him if you saw him again?” I asked.
“I’ll never forget that fuck’s face.”
“Anything distinctive about him?”
“No. He was almost painfully average. No birthmarks or scars. He was a dishwater blond with blue eyes. The bright kind of blue. Average to thin lips. Straight nose, not overly prominent. Maybe six foot.”
“What about his build?” I asked, then watched Max raise a brow. “Let me guess. Average?”
“Yeah. Not bulky, but not skinny either. Strong.”
“What about what he had on? Any jewelry?”
“Not that I saw, no. He was dressed for a burglary. All black. But he came with zip ties. I guess they were in his pocket or something. Things were going in warp speed.”
“Scent?” I asked, knowing I was getting desperate, but I needed something other than dirty blond and blue-eyed.
“Actually,” she said, brows pinching as the memory came back. “Yeah. He reeked of cigarettes. You don’t find that much anymore,” she went on. “Everyone smells like fruity vapes or weed. But he smelled like cigarette smoke.”
A blond-haired, blue-eyed smoker. It was something to try to run with.
“Age?” I asked.
“My age? Mid to late twenties.” She took another sip, then sat back and exhaled hard. “It’s not much,” she admitted.
“No,” I agreed, “but it’s something. I’d be more worried if this was just a normal home invasion where he just happened upon the stash of diamonds. But since he was watching me, it narrows shit down a bit.”
“I’m down for looking at pictures, if you need. The least I can do.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to do that.”
A silence fell for a second as the crowd toward the front of the bar got rowdy enough to make conversation difficult.
“I was planning to bring them back in the morning,” she said when things died down again. “I know that probably isn’t convincing, but I was.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because a… friend of mine and I concluded that you were probably in the mob. And that you’d track me down eventually, so it would be better for me to find you before you found me. My mistake was falling asleep. I’d been awake for well over twenty-four hours. I figured a few more hours wouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Could that friend have—“ I started, but Max was shaking her head before I could finish.
“No. She deals in stolen merchandise. Jewelry, specifically. Takes apart distinctive pieces and creates new ones that can be sold. I just brought one diamond to her to check to see if it was real. She was the one to urge me to get the wallet back to you as soon as possible.”
“But if she’s into…”
“Honestly, she likely has, easy, a million or two worth of loose gems around her place. Not only does she not need your diamonds, but she really doesn’t give a shit about money.”
“Everyone gives a shit about money.”
“Okay. Maybe it’s more appropriate to say that she has more than she needs. She lives very… humbly.”
“I get wanting to protect your friend’s identity, but I’m gonna want to talk to her.”
“Not without me, you won’t.”
She squared up a bit at that, chin lifting. Even beat to shit, she was going to stand up and try to defend her friend from any threat I might present.
“Yeah, you can tag along. I’m just gonna talk to her. But she might also be someone who has a finger on the pulse of underground diamond sales. I want her to keep an ear out for me.”
“Okay,” Max agreed, but her eyes were still hard.
They were prettier than I’d anticipated. A hazel that kind of flirted with both green and brown. Logically, I knew it was likely the lighting in the bar, but I couldn’t help but think maybe her mood had something to do with it.