Practically Imperfect (Imperfect Series Book 3) by Mary Frame

Author:Mary Frame [Frame, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-04-14T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Gemma

Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,

Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.

–Alexander Pope

Two hours later, I’m ready to throw a tantrum. I can’t find anything to explain why anyone would remove the information about Larry’s buddy from my files, there’s nothing incriminating about any of it. He was there, he disappeared. Why do they care so much? Who the hell is this guy, Justin Bieber?

I finally talk to the chief, who seems to believe someone is purposefully setting me up, especially after I explain everything that’s happened over the last couple of days.

“I can resend all my files directly to you,” I offer.

He sighs. “That won’t be enough. We’ll need you to turn in your whole laptop so everything on it can be reviewed.”

The good thing is that he doesn’t sound like he thinks I’m behind any of this nonsense.

He cautions me against talking to anyone. Since Lolita’s death, there’s more than just suspicion that someone on the force is on Rosco’s payroll. No one else would have access to our files, and IT confirmed there haven’t been any hacks into the system. They’re looking at almost everyone’s records to see if they can trail who accessed my and Jimmy’s files, but it’s going to take more time.

My cell had a few other missed calls from Gwen and Gabby, but I haven’t called them back. I’m not sure exactly what I should say to them. I have other things to focus on right now.

“It just doesn’t make any sense!” I yell into the living room, which makes me feel moderately better.

Sam comes into the room from the direction of the kitchen and hands me a bottle of water. “You’re an exciting person to hang around,” he says. “We should do this more often.”

“What, me sit here, staring at my computer blankly, while you watch football?”

“I like how you mumble to yourself and randomly yell things.”

“You’d think I was the one watching the game,” I say.

“Exactly. So talk it out with me. This dude, who hangs out with Larry, someone is trying to protect him?”

“Yeah, but why? If he’s just one of Larry’s goons . . .” I trail off. “He’s got to be more important than that.”

“You have a basic description, right? Don’t you have one of those, like, facial recognition scanners?”

“Dude. This isn’t a spy movie. Our budget sucks. I’ve been going through pictures of Rosco and everyone he knows for hours. I’ve even googled him and stalked his social media pages. I can’t find this mystery man anywhere.” I want to yell again in frustration. “I know I’ve seen this guy before. I wrote it off at first because I see so many people in my day to day that most people look a little familiar, and I didn’t exactly look at him for a long time. I only saw him for a second before he took off, but now it’s killing me.”

My phone rings and I pick it up. “McDougall.”

“Gemma.”

It’s Tony. He’s got his serious voice on.

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