Read Online Half Life (Russell's Attic Book 2) by SL Huang - Free Book Online Page B

can,” said Checker slowly. “I won’t.”
    “Uh—why not?”
    He was a moment in answering. “Because I’m not going to hack someone’s personal psychiatric records.”
    “You decide to respect boundaries now? You?”
    “Some things are private,” he said. “I’ve got lines.”
    “So cross them,” I snapped. “This could be important.”
    “No.”
    “What the hell—why not?”
    “Cas, you aren’t going to sway me on this.”
    “Stop being stupid!” My hand tightened on the phone. “You’ve got no problem breaking into arrest records, and financials, and medical information—Jesus, you get me private emails all the time. And what, a psychiatric stay is off limits?”
    “Yes,” he said.
    “That’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.”
    “I’m not changing my mind.”
    “I’m doing you a huge goddamn favor on this Lorenzo thing, you know,” I said.
    Checker sighed. “Are you really trying to guilt me into giving you someone’s private psychiatric history?”
    “Yes! If that’s what it takes. I need that information!”
    “Then go talk to Rayal yourself,” he said. “I’ll text you her address. Do you need anything else?” The change of subject was very loud in his voice.
    “Send me Lau’s address, too. He knows something.”
    “Done. Wait, he’s not going to end up a smear on the sidewalk, is he?”
    “What, you’re telling me how to do my job now?” I asked snidely.
    He took a deep breath. “For God’s sake, it’s one thing I refuse to look up for you—”
    I hung up on him. He tried to ring me back, but I let it go to voicemail. I deleted the new message and the other six he’d left without listening to them.
    I checked the other two voicemails. The first was Benito Lorenzo, who sounded somewhere on the border between nervous and terrified. He said he was sure my “disagreement” with Mama Lorenzo was all a misunderstanding and pleaded with me to come in and talk about it with them. I deleted it. The final message, for once, was unrelated to the rest of the mess my life had become; what sounded like a male voice said he would like to meet as soon as possible to discuss a job. He said he’d been referred by Ari Tegan, a recurring client of mine—not to mention the best forger I knew.
    My thumb hovered over the callback button. I now knew Warren’s daughter existed, but it was looking less and less likely he would be able to pay me. It wouldn’t hurt to have another job pending on the off chance this one fizzled. Just in case I needed it.
    Of course, this guy might be working for Mama Lorenzo and planning a setup. Benito had my number, so—
    I stopped in my tracks. Benito had my number. Little Dino Palermo hadn’t followed a signal on my car; Mama Lorenzo’s people had tracked my phone. Checker wasn’t the only one who could trace a cell location once he had the number.
    What was I, a fucking amateur? I should be dead.
    Fuck.
    I’d have to pick up a new phone as soon as possible. Before disabling this one, I tried calling Tegan to see if he’d referred someone to me, but the phone rang out to a generic voicemail recording. I told him to call me the instant he checked it and hung up.
    Well, if this was an ambush…I tapped the phone against my palm, thinking.
    I dialed back the man who’d asked to hire me and left a message suggesting a meeting at eleven that night at Grealy’s, an oyster bar—emphasis on bar— famous in the LA underground for…I suppose the kind term would be discretion. It was a dim, smoky hole-in-the-wall where they had terrible food and worse drinks, mopped the floors every month or so, and made sure everyone minded his own business or got kicked out. I loved the place.
    More importantly for tonight, it was well-known enough as a locus for shady dealings not to arouse suspicion in my new potential client—or fake potential client—and I knew the surroundings well enough already to have a few ideas for how to set up my own