Seventh Grave and No Body Page 61


I fought past the sting of his opinion of me. “He didn’t send him to kill me. He sent him to kill you. Remember?”

“For f**k’s sake, Dutch,” he said, pushing off Misery and away from me. “Will there ever come a time when you take this shit seriously?”

“I do, asswipe,” I said, restarting my car. “And you can walk.”

I slammed my door shut before he got back to me and floored it, leaving a trial of dust as I hurried out of the cemetery. I risked one look in the rearview. Reyes stood, furious, fists at his side as I pulled onto the road. I could still make it to Bumpy’s place of business before he even figured out where the man was.

Thinking ahead, I texted Cook and told her not to let on she knew about Bumpy or his addresses. Then I told her to text them to me.

“What are you doing?” a female voice said from my passenger’s side.

Jessica had decided to pop in. Wonderful.

“Go away,” I said to her. “I am so not in the mood.”

“He’s only trying to keep you safe,” she said, her voice sad. “No one has ever gone to those lengths for me, and you get mad at him every time he tries to help.”

“No, I don’t. He’s being an ass. And he sent a spy. A spy!” A tumultuous rage roiled inside me. His true feelings about me, about what he considered incompetence, stung more than anything he could ever say to me outright. It wasn’t even about the woman. It was about his belief that I could barely walk and chew gum at the same time. His reaction had proved it.

I wanted to cry. I actually wanted to cry. I never knew he thought me so incapable. So inept. Then again, I wasn’t completely stupid. I picked up my phone and dialed my go-to guy.

“Hey, Charles, a little busy,” Garrett said.

“Reyes thinks I’m inept.”

I heard a thud and some glass breaking in the background. “No, he doesn’t. Where are you?”

“Where are you? I need backup.”

“I’m in the middle of a bust. Give me an hour.”

“I don’t have an hour. It’s okay, I’ll call Osh.”

“See you tonight for dinner?”

“Sure.” What the hell was tonight? Whatever it was, everyone was going to be there.

I called Osh, but he didn’t pick up. Probably still angry about being attacked by the asswipe known as my affianced. He could just stand in the cemetery and stew all he wanted. I was going to reason with Bumpy. Though I probably wouldn’t call him that to his face.

I tried his residence first because it was closer and kind of on the way in an out-of-the-way sort of way. A maid answered and said he wasn’t home, so I went to the business address that lacked a business name. I pulled into the parking lot, which was in an alley, and walked around to the side entrance, the one with a door slightly ajar and music leaching out.

After gathering my nerve, I stepped inside. Once my vision adjusted to the low light, I realized it was more like a pool hall with music and a bunch of guys standing around drinking beer. The few women in the place were serving drinks and dressed in short shorts and tanks. Their heels were higher than Denise’s IQ. The interesting part of my entrance was that everyone, every single gaze in the place, turned toward me.

I waved shyly. “Hi. I was just looking for a Mr. Bruno Navarra.”

“What do you want with him?” someone asked. I think it was the man tending bar.

“I have a business proposition.”

The woman closest to me laughed. “You’re too dressed for that, honey.”

The rest of the room burst into laughter at my expense as she examined me from head to toe.

“He likes a little more skin and a little less attitude, if you know what I mean.”

I rocked on my heels and waited for the comedy club to die down.

A male voice wafted toward me then. “What kind of business proposition?”

Cookie had texted me a picture of Bumpy, and I recognized him at a table, playing cards.

I stepped forward and said softly, “I’d like to save your life today.”

Again with the laughter, but Bumpy held up a hand and it stopped instantly.

“And who is it you’re saving my life from?”

“I think you know the name Reyes Farrow.”

Bumpy stilled. After a moment, he looked around as though expecting Reyes to show up. “How is Farrow?” he asked, but his tune had changed completely. Everyone sensed it and kept their snickering down.

“Angry,” I replied.

He nodded. “Let’s go to my office.”

I had Zeus in my boot. I could only hope he would be enough if I needed to defend myself.

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asked as he led me to a cluttered office in the back.

“No, thank you.”

“So, as far as I know, Farrow and I are cool. Why the sudden interest?”

In his office, away from the others, I got a good read on Bruno Navarra. The only word I could use to describe him at that moment was afraid. I felt genuine fear emanating out of him. If he was afraid of Reyes, why would he send a guy to take him out?

“Zeke Schneider,” I said, and Navarra bowed his head.

“One of my best men. He’ll be missed.”

“Not that one, the other one.”

Before Navarra could reply, Reyes had burst through the door, his anger bathing me in a blistering heat. He gave Navarra a once-over, then focused the full force of his anger on me.

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