Page 124 of Omens (Cainsville 1)

Page List


Font:  

"To you, it's nothing. To me, it's more than a week's wages. Give me the money. Stick to the terms of our original agreement. And don't charge me for getting my medical records. Fair?"

He studied me. He didn't seem to be weighing the offer. He just ... studied me.

"I seem to recall that you have today off," he said finally.

"I do."

"I'll set up an interview with Peter Evans's friend."

"Good. Then we're back in business."

Chapter Fifty

Gabriel called Peter's old friend, a guy by the name of Josh Gray. He got a busy signal. While he waited to phone back, he suggested something else.

"Pamela has been calling my office," he said. "She's back in prison and would like to see you. She says she has new information, but I fail to see how that's possible, given that she's spent the last twenty years in a cell. She simply wants to see you. I am not averse to the idea."

I said nothing, just sipped my coffee.

"Unless you are..." he said.

No. I wanted to see her, had all week and felt guilty for staying away. That was the problem.

"Do we have anything to ask her?" I said.

"I could come up with a few questions."

In other words, he knew very well that I might like to see her and was providing the excuse. Damn, the man was full of gifts today.

I found my gaze sliding to the window. Looking for a sign. I shook it off and pulled my attention back.

"We'll do that after we speak to Gray."

Gabriel phoned back. This time, Gray answered. Gabriel introduced himself and said he was investigating the death of Peter Evans, and Gray hung up on him. Which meant he was about to get an unexpected visitor or two.

Englewood has some decent sections. Gray didn't live in--or even near--any of them.

Gabriel found a monitored lot nearly a mile away, gave the parking attendant a healthy tip to watch the car, and promised to double it if we returned to find the Jag unscathed.

"Would have been cheaper to take a cab," I said.

"I don't take cabs."

I shook my head. Then I stopped. A murder of crows perched on a dead tree. The old rhyme played in my head.

One for bad news,

Two for mirth.

Three is a wedding,

Four is a birth.

Five is for riches,

Six is a thief.

Seven, a journey,


Tags: Kelley Armstrong Cainsville Fantasy