Read Online Queens Ransom (Sofie Metropolis) by Tori Carrington - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tori Carrington
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sofa in the main salon and whispered, ‘I read about you in the paper a couple weeks ago. That story about those women . . . all that blood.’ She gave a visible shiver. ‘So glad you caught the monster who did all that bad stuff.’
Hmm. So it stood to reason that’s why I had been let inside.
‘Have you spoken to anyone else, Mrs Garcia?’
She shook her head. ‘Oh, no. Mr Abramopoulos, he tell me not to. I mean, I talk to his people . . .’
‘Then why did you let me in?’
‘Because I had to talk to somebody about it. Little Miss Jolie . . . I love her like she’s my own little m’ija . If anything bad happened to her . . .’
Her big dark eyes boiled over with tears. Genuine? Yeah. I found myself digging in my purse for a Kleenex. She took it and mopped at her cheeks.
‘I need you to tell me what happened that day. Everything, no matter how insignificant you think it is. If there was a run in your stocking, I want to hear it.’ Mrs Garcia nodded, listening intensely. ‘And I want you to tell me everyone Jolie comes into contact with on a day-to-day basis. And who she might have seen over the past month. Doctors, teachers, the neighbor with the Great Dane, security personnel . . . doesn’t matter. I want to hear about them. And I want to hear what you think about them.’
She continued nodding for a full minute. Then her face contorted, a mixture of hope and worry. ‘You find her, yes?’
‘I hope to find her, yes.’
And I did. If only because this one woman seemed to love her more than anyone else I’d encountered so far.
And everyone should be where they were loved.
The thought inspired an inward squint of a whole different color . . .
Eight
‘Sorry I’m late.’
I breezed into The Original Stamatis ten minutes after the time I had rescheduled; Mrs Garcia had taken me at my word and told me about everybody, but everybody, with whom Jolie had ever crossed paths. I’d been afraid it might take the entire afternoon, but thankfully she hadn’t so much slowed down as she had come to a complete stop.
Just like that. No, ‘Oh, one more.’ She had outlined each individual with perceptive detail during a consistent, fast-talking roll, then closed her mouth and smiled. That was it.
I’d managed to hold up my hand and halt her for half a minute while I called David Hunter and asked to push back our lunch an hour. Then she continued on as if she’d never been interrupted.
All I could say was I was glad I’d set up my cell voice recorder. I can’t imagine trying to take more than the occasional note while she was talking. Probably I’d have cramped up. Probably I’d need carpel tunnel surgery.
Now I smiled at David Hunter.
I’d half expected him to be upset. Most men would be. And he was a CIS agent, after all. Didn’t that require that he have a sour disposition to begin with in order to heartlessly deport innocent people?
‘That’s OK. I just got here myself,’ he said.
I noticed the newspaper open in front of him and the half-drained glass of water and raised a brow.
Although I did get the impression he hadn’t ordered yet, you know, just in case I didn’t show. Which had loomed a very real possibility. I still wasn’t sure I liked the idea of this being misinterpreted as a date. Especially by me.
As it was, I had to stop myself from kissing his cheek when he got up to greet me and invited me to sit.
It was a Greek thing.
But he wasn’t Greek and I didn’t know him much less date him, so it wasn’t appropriate.
Of course, I would have preferred he not seem to register the fact that I had almost kissed him and respond to it with a sexy smile.
‘Have you ordered?’ I asked, scooting my chair up to the table.
‘No. I thought I’d wait for you.’
‘Better than ordering for me.’
‘I’d never do that.’
‘Good. I find it irritating as hell.’
‘Me, too.’
I smiled at him. He smiled back.
How come I’d never noticed how hot he was before? OK,
Hmm. So it stood to reason that’s why I had been let inside.
‘Have you spoken to anyone else, Mrs Garcia?’
She shook her head. ‘Oh, no. Mr Abramopoulos, he tell me not to. I mean, I talk to his people . . .’
‘Then why did you let me in?’
‘Because I had to talk to somebody about it. Little Miss Jolie . . . I love her like she’s my own little m’ija . If anything bad happened to her . . .’
Her big dark eyes boiled over with tears. Genuine? Yeah. I found myself digging in my purse for a Kleenex. She took it and mopped at her cheeks.
‘I need you to tell me what happened that day. Everything, no matter how insignificant you think it is. If there was a run in your stocking, I want to hear it.’ Mrs Garcia nodded, listening intensely. ‘And I want you to tell me everyone Jolie comes into contact with on a day-to-day basis. And who she might have seen over the past month. Doctors, teachers, the neighbor with the Great Dane, security personnel . . . doesn’t matter. I want to hear about them. And I want to hear what you think about them.’
She continued nodding for a full minute. Then her face contorted, a mixture of hope and worry. ‘You find her, yes?’
‘I hope to find her, yes.’
And I did. If only because this one woman seemed to love her more than anyone else I’d encountered so far.
And everyone should be where they were loved.
The thought inspired an inward squint of a whole different color . . .
Eight
‘Sorry I’m late.’
I breezed into The Original Stamatis ten minutes after the time I had rescheduled; Mrs Garcia had taken me at my word and told me about everybody, but everybody, with whom Jolie had ever crossed paths. I’d been afraid it might take the entire afternoon, but thankfully she hadn’t so much slowed down as she had come to a complete stop.
Just like that. No, ‘Oh, one more.’ She had outlined each individual with perceptive detail during a consistent, fast-talking roll, then closed her mouth and smiled. That was it.
I’d managed to hold up my hand and halt her for half a minute while I called David Hunter and asked to push back our lunch an hour. Then she continued on as if she’d never been interrupted.
All I could say was I was glad I’d set up my cell voice recorder. I can’t imagine trying to take more than the occasional note while she was talking. Probably I’d have cramped up. Probably I’d need carpel tunnel surgery.
Now I smiled at David Hunter.
I’d half expected him to be upset. Most men would be. And he was a CIS agent, after all. Didn’t that require that he have a sour disposition to begin with in order to heartlessly deport innocent people?
‘That’s OK. I just got here myself,’ he said.
I noticed the newspaper open in front of him and the half-drained glass of water and raised a brow.
Although I did get the impression he hadn’t ordered yet, you know, just in case I didn’t show. Which had loomed a very real possibility. I still wasn’t sure I liked the idea of this being misinterpreted as a date. Especially by me.
As it was, I had to stop myself from kissing his cheek when he got up to greet me and invited me to sit.
It was a Greek thing.
But he wasn’t Greek and I didn’t know him much less date him, so it wasn’t appropriate.
Of course, I would have preferred he not seem to register the fact that I had almost kissed him and respond to it with a sexy smile.
‘Have you ordered?’ I asked, scooting my chair up to the table.
‘No. I thought I’d wait for you.’
‘Better than ordering for me.’
‘I’d never do that.’
‘Good. I find it irritating as hell.’
‘Me, too.’
I smiled at him. He smiled back.
How come I’d never noticed how hot he was before? OK,
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