Knave (Masters of Manhattan #1) by Jane Henry & Maisy Archer

Author:Jane Henry & Maisy Archer [Henry, Jane & Archer, Maisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781980697961
Amazon: 1980697965
Publisher: Independently published
Published: 2018-03-29T23:00:00+00:00

Eight

“I really think I should have called first,” I told Anson. “Remember, he’s not just a pawn in this investigation, he’s also my client.” I held onto the grab bar that hung above the rear passenger’s seat of the van as Caelan careened the van around a corner.

“We talked about this. You call him first, and he’ll have a chance to think of a hundred reasons why he can’t meet with us, and a hundred more why he can’t work with us,” Anson reminded me from the front seat. “He’s slippery as fuck.”

From the seat next to me, Walker opened his mouth to say something—likely something frat-boy and groan-worthy, but he took one look at me and closed his mouth on a sigh.

As we approached the Pedersons’ building, I smoothed down the cotton of the green button-down shirt-dress I wore. I’d pulled my hair back into a simple bun at the nape of my neck in deference to the July heat that still lingered despite the setting sun, but I purposely hadn’t applied any makeup. I was going for the post-car-crash-pale-and-sickly look—not exactly runway-ready, but hopefully effective in gaining Gwendolyn’s sympathy and Max Pederson’s compliance. I wasn’t above a little shock-and-awe when the situation called for it.

Caelan pulled under the portico out front and Anson immediately opened his door and swung down from his seat, then opened the sliding door in the back to help me out. He grabbed my hand so I could step down, while I clutched a leather tote bag beneath my arm, which held copies of the private investigator photos Walker had retrieved from Max’s hard drive. Another form of shock-and-awe, Ethan had told me, and I trusted his assessment. I’d never met a more perceptive person in my life. Sometimes, it actually freaked me out.

We made our way to the Pedersons’ front door and knocked. Before anyone answered, Anson pinched my ass. My jaw dropped, and I swung around to smack the smug look off his face, but the door swung open just in time. I flushed. Jerk. Hot jerk, but jerk.

“Sabrina?” Gwen blinked in confusion. “Isn’t it your day off?”

“Yes.” I gave her a brilliant smile. “I just stopped by for a visit.”

“What happened to your head?” she demanded, looking past me to where Anson stood in the hallway, like she wondered if maybe he’d had something to do with it. I was a tiny bit amused to see Anson scowl indignantly, and even more amused when Gwen didn’t yield even a millimeter in the face of his glare.

“It was a car accident,” I told her firmly. “The other night, actually. After we left here.”

She blinked again, but this time stood back, holding the door open so that Anson and I could walk in.

“I’m afraid the missus is at one of her charity things,” she began, but I put my hand on her arm to stop her.

“Actually, we came to see you… and Mr. Pederson, if he’s home.”

“Me? But… well, of course. It’s just all so unusual.

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