Fatal Games (Rockford Security Series Book 2) by L. A. Dobbs

Author:L. A. Dobbs [Dobbs, L. A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2019-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

9

After Laura left, Mike grabbed his laptop and searched for the latest news on that morning’s murder investigation. One killing influenced by his game was a tragedy. Two killings sent a definite message. And yeah, the publicity and the notoriety were gold—sales of Vegas Noir had doubled in just the last week alone.

But the continued scrutiny on his private life? Not so much.

The Chronicle’s website was the first he checked, but he found nothing new. Laura’s probing questions, however, suggested she had more information. Which meant his little reporter had sources within the police department. Mike smiled. Smart girl. Always resourceful. She was like a cat that always seemed to land on her feet, a quirk that kept him both fascinated and wary.

He wondered how long she’d keep up her documentary filmmaker ruse. Longer than he was able to keep his own truths hidden? Either way, his nerves zinged with anticipation.

The security buzzer screeched loudly again in the quiet penthouse, and Mike scowled. He wasn’t expecting anyone else today. With a sigh, he set his laptop aside then walked over to the small screen. The faces of the same two detectives who’d interviewed him a few days earlier appeared. Great. Local law enforcement had proved slow in their investigation but not stupid. Not yet anyway. “Yes?”

“Mr. McQuade, Detectives Hopkins and Ruiz from LVPD. We have a few more questions we’d like to ask you. May we come up?”

Refusing would only make them more suspicious, so Mike acquiesced. He waited until they boarded the elevator then typed in the code to bring them to the top floor. Seconds later, a ding chirped and the doors opened. Both men gazed around his place, eyes wide and expressions appreciative. He’d bought the place to impress. Good thing he was getting his money’s worth.

Mike led them into the living room and offered them drinks then took a seat across from them when they declined. “How can I help you gentlemen today?”

“Where were you at two a.m. this morning, Mr. McQuade?”

“Uh.” He frowned. “Here. In bed. Sleeping.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.” Mike leaned back in his seat as the cop sat forward.

“How well did you know Ben Sanders?”

He’d not asked if he knew Ben Sanders but how well. They’d obviously done their homework. “Was Mr. Sanders the victim?”

“Yep,” Hopkins, the bulkier of the two detectives, said. “And you knew the first victim as well. So, tell us about Ben.”

With a sigh, Mike sat forward again, ignoring the unease trickling through his blood. “There’s not much to tell, honestly. I didn’t know him. He worked for one of the catering companies we used for a holiday party a while back. I might have said hello to him in passing a few times. That’s all I have to tell. Am I a suspect?”

“The killer dressed him in vintage clothes and staged the scene like another level from your game, Vegas Noir. This makes two victims with the same MO. That could signal a serial situation.”

Hopkins hadn’t answered his question, not really. “I still don’t see how this relates to me.

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