“In the Bahamas?” I confirm.
“Yes.” He nods his head to the tune ofwhiz, thenthwackas I fling the santoku knife into the molding directly above him.
It’s farther from him than the first since the guy isn’t quite six foot, but the message of my perfect aim lands all the same.
I tap Cash’s plate as he chips away at his dessert. “Pretty good, right?”
“Sure.” He shrugs. “I mean, I’ve had better, but not bad for the Piggly Wiggly.”
“My thoughts exactly.” I smack my lips. “I like the cream cheese frosting. Might have to see if Tessa is into that.”
Cash chuckles, and Hunter fumes.
“Try again,” I order Hunter. “Business doesn’t line up with my findings.”
Maybe he’s learning or simply at a loss, but he offers no response.
“I don’t know what fuels you, Hunter, but your gumption hasn’t gone unnoticed. For an ordinary guy—real estate, I believe—you have a lot of moxie.” With that acclaim, I select thecleaver, twirling it in my grip. “In the spirit of transparency, I’m still contemplating sticking one of these blades in your throat. But we’re not there yet.”
Cash tsks, his gaze shooting from Hunter to me. “You should ask him a question. He’s pissing himself.”
“Heispissing himself. Another motherfucker with a weak bladder,” I note as a yellow river winds its way from the kitchen to the dining room. I angle my head in an exaggerated attempt to view the unfortunate architecture. “Your house is on a tilt, man. Might want to get that looked at.”
Nothing but crickets … and “Help!” by The Beatles.
“That’s fucking timely.” I chuckle and gesture to Cash’s pocket, where the music is crooning.
“I’d think it was spooky, but I might have had something to do with it.” He smirks at Hunter. “I had a feeling.”
I swing the cleaver toward our interrogee. “Let’s get to it then. When I saw you frequented the resort and casino there, I went down a little rabbit hole.”
“Morbid curiosity,” Cash tacks on, taking a seat at the island.
“Indeed,” I agree while still keeping my gaze on Hunter and his piss river. “And you didn’t disappoint—in regard to feeding my curiosity. You had an escort service that you spent quite a bit on and abusiness associatethat you met there often.”
“My parents own a time-share in that resort,” he explains. “A lot of us stay there.”
“Your parents are realtors then?” Cash muses.
“No,” Hunter whispers, already shuddering for what’s to come.
“Who falls under theusthat stays there then?” I press.
“Friends … buddies … coworkers, uh,” he stammers. “Family.”
The cleaver lands with expert precision and a sonorousthump. He’s surrounded now.
Plucking out the utility knife, which is long and thin, still sharp but smaller than the others in comparison, I stretch my arm toward him and trace the triangle of kitchen cutlery stuck in the molding. “We’re running out of room.”
Cash pushes off his stool, attempting to harness his less-psychotic-brother role since we’ve overshot the good-cop, bad-cop ruse. “So, staying there for business—another lie.”
I toss the knife in the air, catching the handle again and again. “I’ll find out who the thief is behind that money laundering.”
The telltale snap of Cash’s deck being shuffled reverberates through the kitchen before he struts over to Hunter. “Pick a card.”
“We don’t have time for magic tricks right now,” I groan. “I’m two minutes away from killing this guy.”
Cash glances back at me, considering, before fanning his deck. “All the more reason you should pick a card, Hunter. You could use a break. And—let’s face it—some luck. Peek and then slide it back in.”
