When finished reading, they discussed all the possible angles. The room was quiet for the next twenty minutes, as they read every scrap of paper and exchanged the three stacks. Every client, every payment was recorded by hand in bold printing. Spenser Jackson had been a meticulous record keeper. She had sorted the contents of Vanessa’s file into three piles: personal data, client names, financial records. Ten minutes later Ari sat with the two men in the police conference room. In this neighborhood it would have stood out like a rose among the weeds, demanding to be picked. Without another word of protest, he scribbled his cell number on the cover and handed over the file.Īri was on the phone with Ryan before Andreas’s silver Lexus left the curb. His force of will filled the room, daring Jackson to defy him. In that case, she’d return with cuffs and guns.Īndreas held out an imperious hand. It wasn’t unheard of for a pimp to terminate one of his girls. She’d never be back to see the “handler” again, not unless he turned out to be the killer. “If it’s not her, I’ll return your file,” Ari said, mentally crossing her fingers. This is on the up and up? She’s really dead?” Wait just one minute.” Jackson backed another step. What do you think, Andreas? Should we take him in on suspicion of murder?” “Unless, of course, you have something to hide. Of course, if you want to cooperate, be a good citizen, they wouldn’t have an occasion to see your files.

“Probably very interesting to the IRS if we have to subpoena them.

“No way.” Jackson stepped back, clutching the file. “And your cell number in case we have questions.”

“We’ll need the file,” Ari said, sticking out her hand. Nothing else important,” he concluded, closing the folder. Here’s her phone number.” He read it off.

Fire Within by Ally Shields