“No.”
Wilson didn’t believe him. X could see it in his eyes, never mind the ever-growing stench in the room—like rotting vegetables.
“Why?” X asked in return.
Wilson waited a beat, sat back, and rubbed a finger over his clean-shaven chin. “She’s dead,” he said matter-of-factly.
Again, X was sure not to show any emotion at all. Of course he knew Diamond was dead, had seen her body himself at the morgue. None of that came as a shock to him. The fact that Wilson was here in his living room asking him about it was.
“And you’re here telling me because?” X asked.
Wilson wasn’t any superior of his; they were both special agents working within their own government agencies. For years X had worked in the human trafficking department in an attempt to stop the ever-growing trade. It also gave him time to work off the anger that still boiled in his system at the thought of helpless females being repeatedly abused by men who were supposed to be their saviors.
Wilson, on the other hand, worked with the DEA, in the international drug trade. Diamond’s neck had been bitten almost in half. She had nothing to do with international drugs. At least X didn’t believe Wilson knew what her link to international drugs was. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be sitting in X’s living room looking as if he were really about to arrest him. Then again, if Wilson had some idea of what drug Diamond had taken and if he knew about Sabar and his twisted gang of shifters, then it might lead him back to X. But X doubted the latter very seriously.
“This was found with her things,” Wilson said, flicking a business card between his fingers.
He didn’t extend it for X to see and X didn’t need him to. He knew it was his and almost cursed. Instead he did what he always did when faced with bullshit. He shrugged.
“So she had a business card.”
“She had
So Wilson’s calm, cool, and collected exterior could be ruffled. X had figured as much. They’d both been taught to bluff with the straightest face possible, to play everything close to the vest and remain professional. X would hold up his end of the bargain.
“No. I don’t want to explain it to you. I told you I met her one night and didn’t see her again after that. There’s nothing more that I have to say.”
X stood as he spoke. “Now if that’s all you wanted to ask.”
Wilson stood as well. “You’re really going to make me take this route?”
Again X shrugged. “What route would that be?”
“I can get a warrant, search your place. Then I can arrest you, have you indicted in a capital murder case. You’d lose your career, your life as you know it now, everything.”
“Or,” X said, taking a step closer to the agent, “you can put that card back in your pocket and walk your ass out of my house. I’m done talking to you.”
“If it was personal, I can try to help you. Maybe we can work something out with the director,” Wilson insisted.
Dorian Wilson was about six feet tall. He had a deep brown complexion and dark, generally honest eyes. His frame was strong; he worked out regularly. He was a damn good agent. X was also willing to bet his next paycheck that Dorian was here with more than suspicions about Diamond Turner’s murder.
“I don’t need to work anything out. But you definitely need to go.”
Wilson shook his head. “This isn’t going to go away just because you don’t want to deal with it. I’m going to keep digging because I know something’s going on with you.”
“Then get out your best shovel and have at it” was X’s flip retort.
He was very close to losing his cool with this guy. How dare he come up in his house asking him everything but if he’d killed Diamond himself? Obviously he had nothing besides that business card to go on, so X wasn’t giving him the time of day.
Just as they reached the door and X opened it, Nick was strolling down the hallway, sporting one of his designer suits and a royally pissed-off look on his face.
Chapter 9
“Do you have a warrant?” Nick asked Agent Wilson.
“Not yet” was Wilson’s tight reply. He wasn’t looking very pleased with the new arrival.
Nick nodded. “Then you were just leaving. Here’s my card. If you need to speak to my client again you go through me.”
Wilson took the card Nick extended to him, giving both Nick and X a very pissed-off gaze.
“I’m not through with you yet,” he told X.
“Fine. But you’re wasting your time,” X told him with a serious glare.
“Like I said, get in touch with me if you need something else from my client.”
Nick was using his best lawyerly voice. X would have laughed at how polished and professional his friend sounded, when his usual dialogue was about kicking somebody’s ass. But he refrained.
“Right,” Wilson said, giving Nick a nod, then walking out the door.
The same door that Nick subsequently slammed so loud X thought the windows that lined the entire side of his apartment might break. He didn’t bother to stand there and wait for Nick’s tirade. Instead he walked into the kitchen and reached into the fridge. It was still early, but he definitely needed a drink to deal with what was about to take place here.
X pulled out a bottle of beer and twisted the cap off, taking a deep swallow as about two minutes later there came a quiet knock at the door. On a curse he heard Nick’s dress shoes clicking across his wood floors. Then he heard the door open and close once more. X began counting, had only gotten to five when Nick and Rome walked into the kitchen.
“What the hell’s going on?” Rome asked first.
Nick was shaking his head. “More important, where the hell is my sister and why didn’t you bring her home last night?”
X rubbed his free hand down his bald head and took another swallow of beer. “Number one, I don’t know what’s going on. I suspect they think I killed Diamond Turner, the stripper from Athena’s I met a while back.”
He was already walking out of the kitchen, a very angry Nick and a perplexed Rome following behind him. When he was once again sitting on the couch, X emptied the beer. “And two,” he stated, looking directly at Nick, “I wanted to keep Caprise safe. So I brought her home with me.” Not entirely the truth but he figured if he’d said,
“Safe from what? What were you even doing at that club?” Nick asked, standing directly in front of X.
Rome touched a hand to Nick’s shoulder. “The fact is that Caprise is safe. Right?” Rome asked, looking around the room.
“She’s still asleep,” X said, then thought about his words again.
Nick was shaking his head. “Negative. She’s locked in your bathroom. That’s where she called me from when she heard somebody talking about arresting you. That’s why we used Rome’s helicopter to get here as soon as possible, to keep your ass out of jail.”
“Fuck!” X stood and placed the bottle on the coffee table. He was about to walk back to his bedroom when Nick grabbed him by the arm.
“Whoa, you have some explaining to do first.”
“Get your hands off me, Delgado,” he said, a rumbling in his chest signaling his cat was damn tired of sitting on the sidelines.
“Just calm down, both of you clowns.”
