Sleight of Hand Read Online Free PDF
Author: Mark Henwick
And security footage from Silver Hills.”
She bit her lip and looked down at the table. “Amber, I know I sound evasive about the problem at the resort. Please, just have a look at the clip before you make your mind up. You’ll understand.”
As I slipped the drive into my pocket, she also handed me a photo and a set of keys. “That’s Troy and these are for his apartment down in LoDo. The address is on the label.”
I took them silently, glancing at the picture. I wondered how she came to have a set of keys for Troy’s apartment.
“What’s his job?” I asked.
“He’s the head chef at the Golden Harvest restaurant. He didn’t show up for work over the weekend. The police won’t do anything yet. All that information is on the drive.”
I nodded. The Golden Harvest was her signature restaurant and the priciest place in town. Certainly not somewhere I could afford to eat, but I had heard the chef was something special. People would notice his absence.
“Married? Partner? Local family?” She just shook her head.
“Okay. I’ll start with his apartment and I’ll call you.”
She nodded her thanks and made a call to her driver to pick her up, before turning back to me.
“May I ask a personal question, Amber?”
I shrugged. “Of course.”
“Those are really beautiful boots. They’re handmade, aren’t they?”
I pulled my jeans up to the tops of the boots and stretched my legs out beside the table to show her, obscurely pleased she’d noticed. “Yup. Made by a friend of mine.”
“They’re so soft!” She felt the supple leather. “Does he do it as a business?”
“Sure. Here, I’ll give you his contact info.” I fiddled with my cell and sent Werner’s details to her.
“Werner Schumacher?” she asked. “Mr. Schumacher is the shoe maker?”
“Indeed he is.” I laughed. “Your car’s here.” I pointed at the black limo and the driver shouldering his way through the doors.
She got up and took my hand, squeezing it.
“Thank you, Amber. Please call as soon as you can.” She started towards the door and stopped as if something had just occurred to her. She turned back and waved at my boots. “Do you ride?”
I shook my head with a little smile. “Not unless you count a couple of hours when I was fourteen.”
“Oh. Never mind. Maybe we can do some, after we straighten this business out. I have horses. Bye.” And with that she was out the door.
I loved the cheerful assumption that all would go well.
I sat there, watching a car that had gone around the block a couple of times do it again, and wondered why I hadn’t picked up my gun when I walked out of the office.
In between, I wondered what the hell I was getting into, let alone what I was already in. And what were the prospects for a private investigator in, say, Alaska?
Chapter 4
The fourth time the car came around, I walked out in front of it, making the driver hit the brakes.
“Hey, lady!” He stuck his head out the window. “You wanna watch where you’re going.”
He got points for the lady tag, even if he was shouting at me. I had walked in front of him.
“Sorry, just not used to cars driving around here this time of day.” I wandered over to his window, standing just behind his shoulder, where it would be difficult for him to turn and fire a gun accurately. I bent down stiffly and checked out the interior of the car. There was nothing suspicious I could see, but that didn’t mean anything. “You looking for someplace?” I kept my voice casual and friendly.
“Yeah, I am, matter of fact.” He pushed his bottle bottom glasses back up his nose and peered at me through them. “You know where Tiley’s Architects are?”
I had to smile. Paranoia might keep me alive another day, but I didn’t think this guy had my number. “Sure. See the turn there, looks like it goes into the parking lot?” He nodded. “Follow it around the far side of the building. It branches off to the left and
She bit her lip and looked down at the table. “Amber, I know I sound evasive about the problem at the resort. Please, just have a look at the clip before you make your mind up. You’ll understand.”
As I slipped the drive into my pocket, she also handed me a photo and a set of keys. “That’s Troy and these are for his apartment down in LoDo. The address is on the label.”
I took them silently, glancing at the picture. I wondered how she came to have a set of keys for Troy’s apartment.
“What’s his job?” I asked.
“He’s the head chef at the Golden Harvest restaurant. He didn’t show up for work over the weekend. The police won’t do anything yet. All that information is on the drive.”
I nodded. The Golden Harvest was her signature restaurant and the priciest place in town. Certainly not somewhere I could afford to eat, but I had heard the chef was something special. People would notice his absence.
“Married? Partner? Local family?” She just shook her head.
“Okay. I’ll start with his apartment and I’ll call you.”
She nodded her thanks and made a call to her driver to pick her up, before turning back to me.
“May I ask a personal question, Amber?”
I shrugged. “Of course.”
“Those are really beautiful boots. They’re handmade, aren’t they?”
I pulled my jeans up to the tops of the boots and stretched my legs out beside the table to show her, obscurely pleased she’d noticed. “Yup. Made by a friend of mine.”
“They’re so soft!” She felt the supple leather. “Does he do it as a business?”
“Sure. Here, I’ll give you his contact info.” I fiddled with my cell and sent Werner’s details to her.
“Werner Schumacher?” she asked. “Mr. Schumacher is the shoe maker?”
“Indeed he is.” I laughed. “Your car’s here.” I pointed at the black limo and the driver shouldering his way through the doors.
She got up and took my hand, squeezing it.
“Thank you, Amber. Please call as soon as you can.” She started towards the door and stopped as if something had just occurred to her. She turned back and waved at my boots. “Do you ride?”
I shook my head with a little smile. “Not unless you count a couple of hours when I was fourteen.”
“Oh. Never mind. Maybe we can do some, after we straighten this business out. I have horses. Bye.” And with that she was out the door.
I loved the cheerful assumption that all would go well.
I sat there, watching a car that had gone around the block a couple of times do it again, and wondered why I hadn’t picked up my gun when I walked out of the office.
In between, I wondered what the hell I was getting into, let alone what I was already in. And what were the prospects for a private investigator in, say, Alaska?
Chapter 4
The fourth time the car came around, I walked out in front of it, making the driver hit the brakes.
“Hey, lady!” He stuck his head out the window. “You wanna watch where you’re going.”
He got points for the lady tag, even if he was shouting at me. I had walked in front of him.
“Sorry, just not used to cars driving around here this time of day.” I wandered over to his window, standing just behind his shoulder, where it would be difficult for him to turn and fire a gun accurately. I bent down stiffly and checked out the interior of the car. There was nothing suspicious I could see, but that didn’t mean anything. “You looking for someplace?” I kept my voice casual and friendly.
“Yeah, I am, matter of fact.” He pushed his bottle bottom glasses back up his nose and peered at me through them. “You know where Tiley’s Architects are?”
I had to smile. Paranoia might keep me alive another day, but I didn’t think this guy had my number. “Sure. See the turn there, looks like it goes into the parking lot?” He nodded. “Follow it around the far side of the building. It branches off to the left and