Intimate Relations, Rebecca Forster [best ereader for manga .txt] 📗

detectives didn't have to worry about being found out, the man was unconcerned. He put his arms down and balanced on his elbows, giving a nod to Finn.

"Do you mind, man? You're cutting off my circulation."

"You going to be giving me a chase again?" Finn asked.

"Naw."

"Up with you then." Finn hauled him to his feet and walked him to the piling. "Hands on. Feet spread."

"Are you kidding me? I told you, I didn't do anything."

"Do as you’re told," Cori said while Finn ran his hands over the man's body, a by-the- book frisk.

"Clean." Finn pulled the man's wallet out of his back pocket.

"What's your name?" Cori asked.

"Sam." His eyes went to Finn who was studying his wallet. "Sam Franks, and I don't think you can do that." He asked Cori, "Can he do that?"

"Darn tootin'," she said. "And you can turn around now."

Finn handed the wallet back and started with the questions.

"So what were you doing at that house? You don't live there, or you would have answered my call," Finn said.

"You know I don't live there because you saw my license. I live in Encino," Sam said.

"What's your relationship to Roxana?" Cori asked.

"Who?" Sam pulled weeds out his hair.

"The woman who owns that house on the hill," Cori said.

"Sure, can we get to your story sooner than later?" Finn said, spitting out the dust he had swallowed when he took the man down. "What were you doing? And if it was so innocent, why did you run me a mile instead of telling me up there?"

"My boss sent me to get something," Sam said.

"Lord, man! Will you speak, or do I need to pull the truth out with your teeth?"

Finn plucked his sweat-soaked T-shirt away from his body hoping to catch a breeze, but there was none.  He wondered how far up he would have to hike to retrieve his jacket. Sam looked at Cori, but all she did was shrug to let him know that an upset O'Brien was his problem.

"I was supposed to pick up a computer. There's a silhouette decal of a woman on the front. You know, like the stickers you see on a trucker's mud flaps?" He put a hand behind his head and preened, but gave up when Cori and Finn didn't find him funny. "Anyway, that's all I know. Pick up the computer with the sticker on the front, and deliver it to a place in Century City."

"Who's you're employer?" Cori asked.

"AIng Inc."

"A name of a human, if you please?" Finn said.

"I'm a virtual assistant." He held his palms skyward either in apology for his position or to indicate he existed only on the cloud. "I get an E-mail or a text, do what I'm told, and I bill the company. I don't deal with anyone in particular. In fact, I don't even do much for them. Every once in a while they have me do some research and keep up their content on their social media accounts. It's a pretty easy gig and they pay great."

Sam dusted himself off and tested his extremities. When he was assured all was in working order, he smiled at them both.

"If I thought there was anything illegal I wouldn't have taken the job, but the company sent me a key. A key, right? It's not like they told me to break in. I mean a key makes it legal."

Cori pulled her lips tight. She debated telling this kid how many ways it could be wrong. First, he had no idea who sent the key or if they had come by it legally. More than one woman hadn't changed the locks after kicking out a volatile lover. What better revenge than to steal her computer and see what could be used for blackmail. In Roxana's case that would make sense. Tit for tat.

"I'm kind of glad I didn't find it. That house was a little creepy. Super quiet. And this weird picture on the wall. I mean it was cool, but weird. Felt like a tomb in there." He brightened. "So, can I get a ride back up? I'm pooped."

Enver and Emi Cuca waited on the lawyer. They had seen him many times and yet they still did not feel comfortable.  In their country, if you went to court the judge met with the lawyers separately.  Whichever lawyer offered the larger bribe won. In this case, Enver and Emi knew that their bribe could never be larger than the man they were concerned about. He was rich enough to bribe God himself. And yet this was America, so they tried to believe in the goodness of justice. The lawyer's name was Mr. Thompson. His offices were modest, but he seemed an honest man. Now he was a concerned one.

"Criminal matters aren't my area of expertise," he said. "But regarding the nondisclosure agreement, it is definitely binding.  In fact, I could safely say that you would open up yourself to any number of problems should you break it."

"I don't want that," Enver said.

"No, we do not want any trouble, but the police say we are under suspicion," Emi said.

"Here's the thing, I'm going to have to refer you to another colleague. A criminal attorney," Mr. Thompson said.

"But we are not criminals," Enver said. Emi's hand closed over his. She squeezed a warning to him to be cautious with his words. He shook her off. "We are not. I did not kill that woman. I didn't even know she was in the house."

"You are innocent until proven guilty," the lawyer assured them. "I'm suggesting a criminal attorney be retained in case the investigation takes a turn. The investigation is in the early stages. The man you were arguing with is a problem. You need to be prepared in case he shares something that might turn the spotlight back on you."

"Spotlight?" Enver said.

"I mean if he says something that might implicate you. Murder is a bad business. The body was found in your home. There is