Puppetmaster (Coastal Fury Book 8) by Matt Lincoln

Author:Matt Lincoln [Lincoln, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-01T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18: Holm

“Holm, what did you find out?” Muñoz’s heels thudded dully against the carpet as she headed toward my desk. I dropped the brown paper bag down on top of the stack of papers that demanded my attention and sank into my chair.

“Not much,” I replied as I took a sip of the cappuccino I had picked up on the way back to the office. “The man isn’t talking, and every time the wife seems to open up, he shoots her a sharp look, and she clams up.”

“Dammit,” Muñoz muttered, slamming her hand on my desk in frustration. “Birn and I thought that bringing you on board with this case would help shake things up a bit, but we are still stagnating here.”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m sorry. I tried. I even tried to separate them so I could talk to her on her own, but her husband threw a fit.”

“So, what do we do?” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped a toe against the floor. When I looked up, she was chewing her lower lip and staring blankly at the far wall, obviously deep in thought.

“I thought about it on the way back,” I replied. “I do have an idea.” I dug out the doughnut that I had purchased and took a giant bite.

“Really, Holm?” Muñoz shook her head and chuckled. “You’re going to tell me you have an idea, and then you’re going to shove food in your face and leave me hanging for a minute?”

I offered her a powdered sugar-covered smile and finished chewing. Muñoz’s eyebrow raised higher and higher the longer she waited. I was torn between wanting to tell her my idea and waiting to see how high her eyebrow could get. I eventually gave in and swallowed the mouthful of dough and powdered sugar.

“We need to bring them here,” I continued as if nothing had happened. “We need to find a reason to bring them in. Once they’re here in this environment, it will be easier to separate them.”

“How do you propose we do that?” she replied, her one eyebrow still arched.

My phone chose that moment to ring. I didn’t recognize the number, but it had a New York area code, and something inside of me screamed out to me to answer it.

“I have to take this,” I interjected. “I’ll come to find you with the rest of my plan.”

“You better,” she teased before storming off.

I picked up the phone and held it hesitantly in my hand. This could be Marston, but it could also be the mob. Ever since the feeling I’d gotten the other night while jogging, I’d become more and more convinced that the Mezzanotte crew in New York had been the ones tailing me. I didn’t have too many enemies, and most of them were in jail or dead. As far as I knew, the New York mob was the only logical option.

I answered the call and brought it up to my ear. “Hello?”

“Robbie!” A familiar and cheerful voice came through the speakers.

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