Twisted Interest (Margot Harris 7)
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“You sure you don’t want to hang around? Getting shot at is no picnic. If I was you, I’d want to have a few drinks.”
“I’m over it already,” Margot said as she took another sip. She left thinking not finishing the whole glass was something of a victory.
Margot was debating whether to call the maid or call Ames and tell him about Mal. While she was trying to decide, she checked her email and saw Mal had replied to her messages.
His message was simple: It’s not what you think.
Margot replied: Then what is it?
He didn’t reply.
Margot got in her car and Mal sat up in her backseat.
Chapter 8
“Have you come to finish the job you messed up last night?” Margot asked Mal, keeping her eyes on him in the mirror and shifting her hand toward her purse.
“What job last night?”
He sounded sincere, but even though he’d always been honest with her, Margot knew he was a very capable liar.
“You didn’t shoot at me last night by the 7-11?”
“No, why would you think that?”
“Car looked like yours.”
“A drive-by?”
“Yeah.”
“If I wanted to shoot you, Margot, I wouldn’t do some dumb gang-banger bullshit. I’d walk up and shoot you.”
“Or wait in the back of my car and put one in the back of my head?”
“Yeah, though I’d probably put two just to be sure. I wouldn’t talk about it first though, I’d just do it, if you’re worried. Are you worried?”
“No.”
“Good. I wouldn’t mind if you drove though. I’m kind of a wanted man and every cop in town knows my face.”
Margot started her car and pulled into traffic.
“Anywhere you want to go?”
“Just drive for now. I know you and I are kind of on the outs, Margot, but why would I want to kill you?”
“I figured out what you did at the county jail. You did a good job hiding your face but using Dennis Thorn was kind of a giveaway.”
“Honestly, Margot, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Someone who looked a lot like you using the alias Dennis Thorn visited the main suspect in the death of Lucas Lau just before Lucas got shanked to death in the infirmary.”
“The suspect a man named Heller?”
“Yeah.”
“If he killed someone, that’s news to me. I sure as Hell didn’t tell him to. Even if I was contracting a murder, which I’m not, I wouldn’t use Heller. He’s dumb as a rock.”