Chapter Six
As soon as Rachel left, Trick stormed into Declan Phillips’s office. The owner of Shakedown was a man with the contacts and resources to help. They’d met in prison when Declan saved him from a bathroom assault and taught him the ropes of life behind bars. The man was in on a bogus charge of vehicular manslaughter—the other driver, a teenager, had powerful parents. Declan hired Trick when he was released. Thank God. No one else would.
“Declan, I need Jay Grant found and brought here. I don’t care if it’s only his dead body.” Trick paced Declan's office.
“A little dramatic don't you think?” Declan asked.
“No.”
His friend straightened from leaning against his desk. “The first I can help you with,” Declan said evenly. “The latter? Dead bodies can be…problematic. The police always want to know how they got that way.”
Trick scrubbed his hair. “I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking.”
“Emotion does that to a person,” Declan said. “We'll find him. This Jay Grant got a cell phone? Bills have to be sent somewhere.”
“I'll get it from Rachel. Last known address. What else do you need?”
“That's a good start. So, Rachel, as in—”
“Yeah, that Rachel.”
Declan sat on the corner of his desk. “You found her.”
Trick sighed and sat in one of the large executive chairs by the desk. “She was where Max said she was. Talman's. Waitressing. Still can’t believe we both ended up in Baltimore. She thinks our meeting was a coincidence.”
Declan arched an eyebrow. “Is it wise to keep that from her?”
“I'll tell her eventually, when she trusts me more.”
“You do know it works the opposite way, right? Truth, then trust?”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed his face. “Jay wasn't with her, which surprised me. They were inseparable for years.” He was going to rub his chin raw at this point.
“Was he into anything? Gambling? Drugs? Women?” Declan asked.
“He gambled some. Smoked weed. Usual rich-boy crap.” He jumped up from the chair, restless as hell. “Damn it, I need more information, and Rachel is so damned stubborn . . .”
A rap on the door cut their conversation short. Nathan stood in the doorway, a broad smile across his face. “Your sparring partner is back.”
There was no mistaking who Nathan referred to.
Declan's face cracked into a smile. “Looks like you'll have no trouble getting more information.”
“She's up to something,” Trick said, heading for the door.
Across the room, a set of brown eyes confronted him. As he crossed the show floor, she uncrossed her mile-long legs and slid off the bar stool. “I changed my mind,” she said. “Hire me. You did say I’d make more money, and you owe me.”
“On one condition. Tell me how to reach Jay.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I told you. He’s on an oil rig. I spoke with him twenty minutes ago.”
“You ask him about the money?”
“Why would I do that? Nobody goes to work on one of those things if they have three million.”
He wasn't so sure. Everyone had their blind spots, and Rachel's was her stepbrother. She'd lost her mother when she was twelve, and the only man she’d known as a father when she was eighteen. Clinging to the last of your family was understandable, but in Jay’s case, not wise. Then again, what he was about to do wasn't wise, either.
“Let me have his cell number,” he said.
“He won't answer you. I'd like to work six nights a week—”
“Five.”
“All right, for the first two weeks, until you can see I can handle myself, but then I get six.”
“Perhaps. You can start—”
“I need to start tomorrow. Talman's won't miss me—at least the other waitresses won't, and you won't be sorry you've hired me. I have good ideas. I work hard, and I—”
“You're hired.”
She blinked.
“See you tomorrow, Rachel.” He turned and strode away, knowing her inability to get the last word in would gall the shit out of her—something he was totally okay with. She was being too nice, too placating to trust. Yet, this is what he wanted, right? Keep a close on eye on her and find out where the hell her freeloading brother was? He suspected her sudden reappearance meant one thing. She was going to try to seduce him into giving her money that he never took. Fat chance. He was going to do one better. He’d bring the real criminal to justice, and he’d start by locating Jay Grant.