Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(44)

Dialing Jeff's number, I remember the look on the geek's face when he told me a scary Mexican wanted to chop off his balls. I'm nearly laughing at the memory when he answers.

"Jeff, this is Ty Stewart. You hired me some time back for a job."

Jeff's silence makes me smile. I say nothing, forcing him to either hang up or find his voice. "Hello, Ty. How are you?"

"Not great to be honest. I have a problem, and I was hoping you might know how to help me."

Another period of silence passes before his balls stop crawling into his gut. "What kind of problem?"

"My woman is being threatened by a man who just transferred money to your bank. I have his bank info, but no name or address to find him with."

"I understand your concern, but the law is very clear."

Sighing dramatically, I let my disappointment settle into his bones before I speak. "I worried you'd say that. I know the law, and I know about rules. I just hoped I wouldn't have to fly to the Islands to find out the info. Leaving my woman isn't something I wanted to do, but if being in town and getting the info personally is necessary, I guess I'll fly out tonight."

"I'm not sure anyone can help you."

"No, not willingly. Laws matter to some people but not me. Well, you remember that about me, right?" I ask, giving him a chuckle.

Jeff exhales unsteadily, and I imagine him in his office thinking about the big scary man I easily killed for him. I was skilled at my job, just as I'll be skilled at extracting the information I need when I arrive in the Cayman Islands.

Understanding the threat behind my easy words, Jeff begins typing before his mouth works again.

"What's the account number?"

"Are you sure you won't get into any trouble?"

"No, I'll handle it."

Smiling, I give Jeff the account number. A minute later, I have Locke's information. The Argentinean address isn't helpful since I know he's located currently in the US. Yet I have his real name now.

Christopher Baker.

Locke's real name feels wrong. Too American, and not enough perverted monster. I thank Jeff for being such a great guy and helping me out. He sounds relieved, yet still scared.

Once I hang up, I call Rafael with the information I have on Locke. He promises to track down everything available on the freak in less than 24 hours.

I return to the living room where Darla still sits on the ground. She pretends to ignore me until I settle next to her on the floor.

"Can I help?"

A smile slowly spreads over her gorgeous face. "I liked waking up next to you this morning."

"Get used to that great feeling," I tease, taking a piece of the puzzle and pretending to care where it goes.

Darla scoots closer and returns to her puzzle. We fall into a comfortable silence. I have no idea what she's thinking, but I'm dreaming of Locke dead in various ways. Thanks to an easy job a year ago, I'm one step closer to making my dream a reality.





33


~~~

Darla

An Honest Assessment

Doctor Parker enters the apartment, looking awkward and out of place. Having Troy stand over her likely doesn't help. I fake a smile for Doctor Parker as she sits on a chair across from me. She fakes one in return. Troy watches us both, and I sense he's angry about her being here.

"I'll be the security room if you need me," he says in a hard voice.

I wait for him to shut the door before I return my gaze to Doctor Parker. Her thin blonde hair is partially back, and she's wearing a lot of black eyeliner. I never notice her appearance before while I was hiding behind my hair. Now I wonder if the heavy makeup is a sign of her insecurity.

"You look different," she says, stating the obvious.

"Shelley helped me find clothes that keep me covered."

"What triggered your decision to leave the sweats?"

"Triggered?"

"You could have found other clothes before. I recall Shelley wanting to take you shopping weeks ago. Why did you agree this time?"

Wrapping my arms around myself, I shrug. "Troy, I guess."

"Did he ask you to change your appearance?"

"No. I want to look better because I like him."

When Doctor Parker writes something in my file, my temper boils. How dare she judge me?

"Goals are what make people work harder," I mutter. "Me working to get past what Locke did isn't so different than someone working out so they can fit in a special dress for a wedding or a high school reunion. I want Troy's attentions, so I dressed in a way that would appeal to him. Goals are good, right?"

I add a lot of heat to the last word. Doctor Parker's face freezes into a blank stare while she works out a response. Finally, she nods.

"Tell me about Troy."

Defensive immediately, I shrug again. "He's a good man who treats me well."

"Has he ever been married?"

Frowning, I realize I don't actually know the answer to this question. I assume he hasn't been because he never mentioned anything. What if he married a woman on a lark or in a drunken stupor? Would he have mentioned something so embarrassing? Probably not but I'd never actually asked him.

"No," I finally say.