Bombshell (Devlin Haskell 4) by Faricy Mike

Author:Faricy, Mike [Faricy, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1478395117
Amazon: B008V46PQA
Publisher: Mike Faricy
Published: 2012-08-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

“I think I should have my attorney present,” I said, and felt the color draining from my face.

“You’re not being charged, you’re not even a suspect. Jesus Christ, we’ve had you under surveillance for the past two days,” he said, then threw his pen on the desk.

“Under surveillance?”

“Once again you haven’t failed to disappoint.”

“Oh gee, sorry. Why would you think I had anything to do with this bullshit? She’s dead? How? What? She’s dead? But she’s so nice, I mean…”

“Her roommate found her earlier this morning.”

“Earlier?”

“A little after one.”

“What was she doing, the roommate, Felicity…”

“Felicity Bard, she was out with a few of the other girls listening to music at some club. Nothing wild or crazy. The Simmons woman was in the hotel after the women left for the club. A number of people saw her. At least four women were with Miss Bard the entire evening.”

“She’s involved, Emma Babe, the Bard woman, she’s involved somehow.”

“And you make your living as an investigator? Did you happen to hear anything I just said?”

“Let me guess, after all that’s gone on they didn’t have security outside the door of the room did they?”

“Apparently not.”

“Apparently? For God’s sake, they got severed fingers being mailed to them across the country, some maniac fire bombed their hotel room. Why in the hell would they possibly pull their security at the… It’s because you had me under surveillance isn’t it.

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“Jesus Christ you told them, didn’t you. You said I was under surveillance so they figured it was all over, they were safe. Right?”

“I didn’t tell them.”

“No? Well someone did and they figured they didn’t have to worry because the prime suspect, namely me, was essentially under lockdown at home. Right?”

Manning didn’t say anything, but his ears looked red and the top of his head was quickly growing a hotter pink.

“How do you know I didn’t sneak out a back window?”

Manning glanced down at the open file in front of him.

“Let’s see you made a phone call a little after nine. You were online from about nine-thirty until one-fifteen in the morning. A number of different porn and escort sites. What? Did the word finally get out about you and now you have to pay for it?” he laughed at his little joke.

“You’re paying for it, too, Manning, you just don’t know it yet.”

“Drunken Mommies, Girls Gone Wild, Back Page, Date Night…”

“Okay, okay, I was just looking, which isn’t a crime, at least as far as I know.”

“Much as I’d like to tie you into this, unless you flew up your chimney, over to that hotel on a broomstick and then back, it doesn’t work for me.”

“How was she killed?”

“Throat slit.”

“That’s up close and personal, someone she knew, maybe.”

“Gee thanks, Sherlock.”

“Signs of a struggle?”

“How ‘bout we handle the investigation end of things for right now. I need your help in that area, you’ll be the first to know. Okay?”

“So what do you want from me?”

The color seemed to drain from Manning’s face.

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