Blood Ring (The Booker Thrillers Book 4) by John W. Mefford

Author:John W. Mefford [Mefford, John W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Private Investigator, private detective, pi thriller, pi thriller series, african american thriller, african american mystery, action pi books, action thriller books
Publisher: Sugar Hill Press
Published: 2021-04-05T16:00:00+00:00

20

Whoever made the joke about walking, talking, and chewing gum at the same time should copyright a contemporary version. Walking, talking, chewing gum, and texting at the same time were apparently the new definition of talent, but only if it was done with the right amount of flair.

“Gifted,” I whispered, leaning toward Alisa while casting an eye on Bree, the enigmatic admin for Picture Perfect Imaging.

“You can add curling a lock of hair to her list of marketable skills,” Alisa replied. She rolled her eyes back so far, I could only see the whites.

My hands clasped behind me, I rocked back and forth on my toes, as we waited not so patiently for Bree to escort us to a meeting room. Thus far, she’d engaged four other ladies in brief conversations, unwrapped two pieces of gum and curled them into her rather large mouth, and found the time to knock out half a dozen texts, emails, or posts—all while seemingly standing guard at the copy machine at an inlet just off a hallway decorated in red and green ribbon. During our first visit, our path was rimmed with black, white, and iridescent green stripes.

If the goal at PPI was for all visitors to lose their equilibrium, or possibly even lose their lunch, the designers scored a perfect ten.

Bree chomped away on her gum while curling the lock around her forefinger, her head buried in her phone.

I huffed out a couple of audible breaths, hoping Bree would wake up from her texting coma. Apparently, my sighs were nothing more than white noise to her. We needed an intervention.

“Bitch, you gonna finish that print job or am I going to have to cancel it?”

A hippy woman wearing a nose ring that could have fit around my wrist, planted an army boot on the chic tile, head cocked to the side.

“Yeah, whatever,” is all Bree said, not intimidated in the least. She waltzed over to the machine, looking for her printout, then started pressing buttons.

“I don’t know what happened. I need to run back to my laptop and see what happened to the job.”

“Did you not hear me?” Hips said. “I’m on a deadline, girl. Let me take a look at it.”

Shoving Bree away, she tapped a touch screen on the printer, then it began to purr.

“Thank you, I guess,” Bree said, her face curling into a ball of disbelief.

“Hold on.” Hips shifted to the side, stuck her hand through a shaft, and pulled out a wadded piece of paper. “This was your problem.”

Bree held up a hand, arching her neck away from Hips, as she moved to the back end of the copier, waiting on the printout.

“Progress,” I said to Alisa, who checked her watch. It was close to five on Wednesday afternoon. Thankfully, when Alisa had reached out to Tiara just a few hours earlier, asking if we could interview the producer who accompanied Natalie on her recent trip to Miami, the director of Talent Acquisition has been incredibly responsive. We

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