Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(76)

“Sorry. Doesn’t ring any bells.”

Vero got close to his face and raised her voice. “Let me jog your memory, Derek. He’s about your age. Blond. Skinny. Smart-ass. And, according to you, he has a talent for cleaning up ugly dick pics.”

Two girls in the accessory aisle stood on their toes to peer over the divider at us. Derek ducked lower on his stool. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know why you’re bothering to cover for that little shit. Especially after he offered to sell me your nudes.”

Derek’s head snapped up. He dropped his phone on the counter, knocking over his stool as he stood and shoved his way through the EMPLOYEES ONLY door behind him. Vero and I rushed after him as he threw open a door to a break area containing a kitchenette and a ratty sofa. Cam was inside, seated at a plastic table, holding a large Slurpee to the side of his face.

“What the hell, man?” Derek shouted.

Cam sprung from his chair. A deep gash sliced across his cheek and his left eye was swollen shut. His other went wide when he saw me. He held his Slurpee protectively close as Derek surged toward him and backed him into the corner.

“That was easy,” Vero said, and slipped out of the room.

“I paid you to get rid of those pics!” Derek knocked the Slurpee from Cam’s hand, spraying the wall with orange ice.

“Hey, I was drinking that!”

Derek grabbed Cam by the collar, holding him up by the neck until the tips of his toes were the only thing touching the floor. A chime rang somewhere in the shop. Derek swore, releasing Cam with a shove. “You’re lucky I have a customer, asshole. But you and I? We’re not finished.” Derek lumbered out of the break room. Vero slipped in behind him, slammed the door, and threw the lock. Cam stiffened, pressing back into the corner as Derek realized his mistake and started pounding on the door.

“He’s not the sharpest tool in the garage,” Vero said, dusting off her hands.

I turned to the refrigerator and rummaged in the freezer, plucking out a Lean Cuisine and holding the box against the bruise on Cam’s face. He winced, jerking away from me. “Who did this to you?” I asked.

He snatched the frozen dinner from me and pressed it gingerly to his cheek.

“I’m not telling you shit. I’m already in enough trouble because of you.”

“Was it Feliks? Did his people do this?”

“Look,” he said, dropping into his chair. “That forum was bad news. I, for one, am going to forget I ever found it. And if you know what’s good for you, so will you.”

I sat in front of him, fussing over the cut on his cheek around the box of frozen noodles. I’d been so careful not to reveal Cam’s name to Feliks, only that the tip had come from a CI. If Feliks knew Cam was the informant—that he had records of the forum—Cam was lucky to be alive. “I need the information you were going to give to Detective Anthony.”

“Sorry. No can do.”

“You owe us fifty dollars,” Vero reminded him.

Cam gestured to his face. “I earned that fifty dollars!” He turned away as my eyes raked over his bruises.

“You found something on EasyClean, didn’t you?” I asked, my suspicions confirmed by his grimace. “If you know who EasyClean is, you have to tell us. It’s a matter of life and death, Cam. We had a deal!”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” Cam flinched as Derek shouted his name through the door.

“You don’t want to talk? Suit yourself. We’ll just leave you and your buddy Derek to catch up.” Vero turned for the door, hand poised to flip the lock.

“Okay, I’ll talk!” Cam dropped the Lean Cuisine, eying the emergency exit on the other side of the room. “But I can’t do it here. I’ll come with you, but I want a safe place to stay. Somewhere no one will find me. That’s the only way I’m giving you those files.”

“Fine,” I said. “You can stay with Vero’s cousin.”

Vero whirled on me. “No!”

“What am I supposed to do?” I argued. “Take him to my sister’s?”

“I want a hotel room,” Cam demanded. “A nice one. With free breakfast and unlimited internet. And I want another Slurpee.”

“Deal.” It was a better idea than letting him crash on my couch. “Let’s go.”

We followed Cam through the emergency exit into the bright afternoon sunshine of the parking lot. Derek’s shouts faded behind us as the door drifted shut. Vero took a moment to orient herself as she clicked her remote. Her Charger’s lights flashed a few rows away from us. Cam hunched into his jacket, his eyes roving furtively over the parking lot as he ducked into Vero’s car. He sank low in the back seat as Vero started the engine. I twisted in mine. “Now, talk. Who is she?”

Cam clammed up, his eyes narrowed on his phone in his lap. Clearly, he had no intention of making good on our deal until he was safely inside his cushy hotel room with his Slurpee, I directed Vero to pull over at a 7-Eleven, where I bought Cam an extra-large bright orange beverage. He sucked down a few long sips, then pressed the frosty cup to his cheek.

“Where to now?” Vero asked.

“I’ll take the Ritz-Carlton for five hundred, Alex,” Cam muttered from the back seat.