The Provocation of Detective Brooks: Hologram, #2 by Nancy Miller

Author:Nancy Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: intrigue, mystery, erotic, romance, suspense, series, thriller
Publisher: Nancy Miller
Published: 2015-09-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

The weekend flew. Saturday night, Roger filled his head with the latest in IT over pizza and beer. It was crazy, what electronic gadgets and the internet could do. However, one thing was clear: Brooks couldn’t trace the SuperSkin transmission without a subpoena. Sunday, he put up the last of the baseboards and detailed some final touch-ups. He’d concentrated on the finish work, giving thoughts of Samantha Bowman and Holotech a rest. At least he attempted to. The woman was a witch.

Thoughts of her in his bed, casting her delightful spell, returned again and again. He’d asked her—just a little pillow talk, if he was the first man she’d been with since she separated from her husband. He swelled with pride when she nodded her head. He needed to cool off; give her some distance, sometimes it paid to clear your head. Maybe he’d send her some flowers. African violets for her greenhouse window.

Brooks scooped up the Monday morning paper with a wave at Mrs. Newton. In the kitchen, he grabbed a cup of coffee, and headed down the hall to his office. He pulled up to the desk. Yawning, he ran his hands through his hair as the emails hit. His eyes narrowed when he saw a message from Betty Chambers, Bowman’s secretary. He picked up his mug and took a sip, scalding his tongue. Wide-awake, he clicked the message. A list of Holotech employees appeared. There were two columns: one comprised of Holotech’s employees, the other, SuperSkin’s. Divided into three categories, each list detailed regular employees, contract workers, and temporary help from the Your Staff agency, along with addresses and phone numbers. Holotech claimed eleven regular employees. Not so many when you considered that four of them were Burke, DeMortaine, Bowman, and Chambers. SuperSkin’s list was even shorter, comprised entirely of temps and contract workers. No mention of Lilly Chang. Brooks wondered how many others they paid in cash. He glanced at his watch. What the hell, so what if it was 8:00 a.m? Reaching for his phone, Brooks looked at the list and placed the call. He picked up on the fifth ring.

“Hellooo. Whaz up?” A sleepy voice answered.

“Hey, just hangin’. Is Eric there?” Brooks asked.

“Uh, you’re kidding me, man?”

“No, is Eric there?”

“No, man, Eric’s long gone.”

“Ah, come on, put him on. It’s his lucky day. You’re on the air with KTYV radio; he won the morning contest. I’ve got a C-note here with his name on it,” Brooks announced in his best DJ voice.

A laugh responded. “Well, good luck spending it where he’s at.”

“What’s up?”

“Seriously? You don’t know man? The dude drowned. Last spring. Right off Zuma. It was some crazy shit, man, him drowning . . . that dude surfed like a god. Nobody could believe it.”

Brooks thanked him and disconnected the call. A rush hit. Pay dirt. Another death connected to Holotech. Not exactly; there was a connection between Holotech and another dead person, connecting the death was the hard part.

Turning to the laptop, he grabbed the mouse and brought up the Santa Monica Star online.

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