Last Call - A Thriller (Jacqueline "Jack" Daniels Mysteries Book 10) Read Online Free PDF Page B

had left for me (probably because there was an anti-theft tracker in it and he didn’t want me to locate him), so I braved rush hour traffic and got into Chicago a little after nine. Since McGlade never got to the office before noon, I went to his home.
    Harry’s current place of residence was a condo in Streeterville overlooking the lake. I parked in front, and walked up to the doorman.
    “Is jackass here?” I asked.
    “Hello, Miss Daniels. I haven’t seen Mr. McGlade this morning. Would you like me to ring him?”
    “I’ll go up,” I said. “Can you please watch my car?”
    “Of course.”
    I handed him the keys in case he needed to move it, and then took the elevator to McGlade’s penthouse. I let myself in without bothering to knock.
    Harry’s home was furnished in 1990’s rich douchebag; leather sofas, nude Nagel prints on the walls, a Japanese shoji screen, hunter green everywhere. I heard sounds coming from the hallway, and found Harry in his round, king-size bed, watching something on his tablet.
    “Hiya, Jackie. I’m watching Waveya.”
    He turned the screen my way and I saw five cute Korean girls in tiny outfits doing a sexy synchronized dance to the music.
    “I’ve watched this eighteen times,” he said, evidently unfazed that I was in his home. “I think I’m in love. Which of the five do you think is cutest? I’m leaning toward Ari. But MiU has that redhead thing going on.”
    “Don’t you ever pick up your damn phone?”
    “Nope.”
    “What if it’s an emergency?”
    He smiled big and shot me with his index finger and thumb. “That’s why I gave you an emergency key.”
    “And what if I’m having the emergency?”
    Harry shrugged. “You refused to give me a key. You were worried I’d show up in your house unannounced, like you’re doing right now.
    This wasn’t getting anywhere. “Where’s Phin?”
    “Phin told me not to tell you or he’d beat me up.”
    “And if you don’t tell me, I’ll beat you up.”
    McGlade tapped his chin. “Decisions, decisions.”
    “This isn’t a joke, Harry. If you know where Phin is, spill it.”
    “It’s a long storypants.”
    “Storypants?”
    “I’m doing a blog, so now I add the words
pants
to—”
    “I don’t care,” I said, cutting him off. “Where is my husband?”
    “You mean physically? Or emotionally? Because, I gotta be honest, sometimes Phin acts pretty darn juvenile.”
    I murdered him with my eyes. “Where is he, Harry?”
    “It’s sort of a long story. Where should I start?”
    “The beginning.”
    “Okay. A long time ago, my parents had unprotected sex, and nine months later I was born. I was given up for adoption, probably because they couldn’t accept a child with such a freakishly large penis. Want to see baby pictures? You’d be like,
whoa, does that baby have three legs
?”
    “Fast forward.”
    “Okay. Two weeks ago I was in a Cracker Barrel with an escort named Sinnamon. She ordered a chicken fried steak, which she didn’t eat. Do you know what a
handy
is?”
    “Do you know what a broken nose is?”
    I balled up my fist. Harry didn’t flinch. He knew I wasn’t actually going to beat him up. But if the only way to stop his comedy routine was with threats, I had one that would work. I dug my Colt out of my Michael Kors purse and pointed it at the bronze statue on his nightstand.
    “Not my Erté
Prisoner of Love
! Okay, I thought my playful banter might loosen your resolve, but you win. While you were in Florida, a woman came to see you at the office. A writer named Katie Glente. She wanted to hire us to find Luther Kite.”
    He went through it all, up to Phin making him promise not to tell me anything. Then we watched the YouTube video on his tablet.
    I was no stranger to graphic images, but this one made my stomach juices curdle. The screaming of the man being towed along the pavement, plus the obvious delight of his tormentors, wasn’t something I’d forget anytime soon.
    And the drivers did