No Rest for the Dead by T Jefferson Parker David Baldacci

Author:T Jefferson Parker, David Baldacci [T Jefferson Parker, David Baldacci]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

14

ANDREW F. GULLI

I knew you were bound to turn up,” the voice of a man said.

Her heart skipped a beat—there was no turning back now. She stood for a moment between the bathroom and the closet.

“Come in, Haile,” the man’s voice went on.

She stepped inside and saw a man seated at the desk. It took her a while to recognize him—Jon Nunn, the detective who’d questioned her years ago about Christopher’s disappearance.

She was actually relieved. Nunn had gone off his rocker; he wasn’t a danger to anyone but himself. “What’re you doing in my room? I’m calling the police.”

Nunn laughed. “Yeah, you do that, sweetheart, and while you’re at it, you might want to tell them about that stolen Rolex in your handbag.”

How would he know? Her mind was working furiously.

“What do you want?” She tried to keep her voice calm.

“Sit down, make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to the bed.

She sat down and said nothing. She looked at his face and noticed how he’d aged since she’d seen him last. His eyes looked tired and puffy, and the lines between his eyebrows had grown deeper.

“I’ve been tracking you for a while,” Nunn said. “Larceny, confidence games, all that good stuff you’ve been up to.”

“What do you want with me?” Haile could hear her voice shaking.

“I still have some questions about your dead lover, Christopher Thomas.”

“Are you crazy, it’s been twelve years, that’s over and done with. He’s dead; she’s dead. You can’t resurrect ghosts, Nunn.” Her mouth was dry with fear.

“It’s not ghosts I’m trying to resurrect. Anyhow, if I were in your position, I’d humor any cop—even a discredited ex-cop—who had questions for me.”

She gestured with her hands for him to continue.

“Listen,” Nunn said. “Thomas was a womanizer, but he didn’t pick just any women. They were always of a certain type—classy, well-educated girls who he could be sure would never blackmail him. Pardon the barb, but you never fit that mold. So why would he get involved with a crooked little tramp like you?”

“Was that a statement or a question?” she asked, opening a bottle of water that had now gone warm in her bag.

“Drugs?”

She didn’t say a word.

“I know enough about you so that if you don’t cooperate with me, I’ll make sure you see prison, and by the time you get out, that pretty face of yours will look like a beaten-up old tire. I may be discredited, but I still have a few friends at the SFPD.”

She tried to calm herself down. He couldn’t do anything to her. He was a washout. The case was closed.

“You know, they probably have closed-circuit cameras at the Ritz . . .”

“What do want to know?”

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