The Cursed (Heather Graham) by Heather Graham

Author:Heather Graham
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-05-26T05:00:00+00:00

12

The young man sitting sullenly in front of Dallas had neatly clipped brown hair and hazel eyes. He was tanned and fit, like someone who spent his days playing in the sun. Or working in it.

But he didn’t have the hands or fingers of a working man. His palms were baby soft, and his fingertips were callus free. He had the look of many South Floridians; Dallas was pretty sure one of his parents had some kind of mixed Northern European background, while the other had hailed from Cuba or one of the other islands, or Central or South America.

His first words to Dallas were, “You have no right to keep me here.”

“No? Actually, I can hold you for twenty-four hours without charging you. I understand you demanded an attorney, then decided you didn’t want one after all,” Dallas said.

Liam laid a file down in front of Dallas, then stepped to the back of the room and leaned against the wall, just watching. The plan was for him to stay there, silent, unless Dallas asked him something.

Logan was watching from the other side of the one-way mirror.

Dallas opened the file. “Martin Garcia. Born Miami Beach, Florida, 1991. Hmm. I’m looking at a couple of drug busts here.” He looked up at the young man. “Why do I get the feeling you’re lucky you were brought in for possessing the stuff rather than selling it?”

Martin Garcia smiled at him. “You can think anything you want.”

“What I want is for you to tell me about the murder of a man the other night—a man you were with until he was attacked.”

Garcia tried to keep up his cool, belligerent manner. He was leaned back in the chair, legs sprawled forward. Dallas ignored that and watched his eyes. As soon as the kid lowered his lids and looked to the side, Dallas knew they had him.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Garcia said.

Dallas leaned closer to him, shrugging. “I think you do. And, at this point, you should talk—and you should stay here just as long as we let you. Because I’m pretty sure the Wolf kills those he suspects of disloyalty—which would certainly include giving the police any information on him. And if you leave here, I’m going to hold a press conference and announce that we’re close to finding the Wolf because of information we’ve received from an informant.”

The blood drained from Garcia’s face, and he turned a sickly shade of taupe.

“I didn’t kill anybody,” he said quickly. He tried to regain his composure. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about. Los Lobos. Yeah, I’ve heard of them—everybody has. So what?”

“Tell us about the Wolf,” Dallas said.

“I don’t know anything about any wolf!” Garcia protested.

“Well, then,” Dallas said, sitting back and turning around to look at Liam. “We might as well just release him. He doesn’t know anything about the Wolf. He won’t wind up like Jose Rodriguez or Yerby Catalano or, more importantly, the man who died on the bridge last night.

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