Jove Brand Is Near Death by J. A. Crawford

Author:J. A. Crawford [Crawford, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CamCat Publishing

11

I was hunting for a hotel when Missy called. I tried to fill her in on my meeting with Dina but all she wanted to hear about was Dean.

“Does he look like Kit?” she asked.

“Not really.”

Kit had been a notch better looking than his dad, who had the charisma and clout to fish above his league. Dean was a notch above Kit. The rich were the new royalty. They got progressively better-looking as the generations passed. If you want to know who founded the fortune, look for the ugliest portrait in the mansion.

“There’s a little of Dina in there, but I’m guessing he takes after his dad.”

“The Venetian art dealer?” Missy asked.

“The Genoese banker. Good thing she got Dean out of him. The ones who gave Dina girls paid for it in divorce court.”

Dean also looked a lot like someone else I knew, but I kept that to myself.

“Kit and I were going to start right away. I was hoping our first would be a girl.” Missy paused to pulse her food processor. “Dina was so striking. Kit wanted a boy, of course.”

This would have been a good time to ask if she and Kit had gotten married on the sly in Hong Kong or if maybe she had any leads on the location of Kit’s secret will, but I couldn’t summon the gumption.

“Dean’s got a good head on his shoulders, for being the boy in the bubble. Jove Brand will outlive us all.” A Range Rover cruising into my sideview caused me to tense, but it was blue with a phone-wielding mom at the wheel. “Hope Ray made progress with the flash drive. I’m done with Layne’s dossiers.”

“This Russian producer, Fedorov, was he on the list?”

“No,” I admitted, “but Layne interviewed Dina before Sir Collin was killed. Maybe she was trying to keep Layne out of trouble.”

Missy knew better than to directly ask me to throw in the towel. “Meeting with a person like Fedorov is dangerous, Ken.”

“Yeah, and no one has had their throat crushed in like five days. Maybe I’ll retire. Emigrate to Bali, or wherever presumed serial killers settle down.”

“I’m starting to think you’re enjoying yourself,” Missy said.

She was right. Every meal, even the ones that came out of vending machines, was a joy. Colors were brighter. The air had more oxygen in it. I didn’t miss my condo or my clients or the conventions. I was even happy when my phone rang. The less I acted like Ken Allen and the more I acted like Jove Brand, the better life felt.

But there was more to it. Among fighters, sucker punching was a cardinal sin. It required a response. Framing me for two murders was one hell of a sucker punch, and I had hit my lifetime quota for cheek turning.

“I have to see this through. If I go down, whoever is behind this gets away.”

Missy went quiet. She knew plenty about unavenged deaths.

“I need to find a safe place around here while Dina works her magic.

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