Can I?
“Your very gracious offer is too much for a humble girl like me,” I say.
“You’ve been avoiding my payroll for even longer than you’ve been paying your parents’ debts, and I don’t like being denied.”
Shit.
“We need someone who can see things. Numbers from across the room, behind walls, on other people’s screens. I think you can do that, can’t you?”
“You mean, like getting people’s credit card numbers or something?” I ask.
He smirks. “Something like that.”
Suddenly, I sense alotmore people at the end of the hall. They’re moving in, and their movements are loaded with killing intent. I gasp, turning just in time for the door to crack open with a bang.
“Police! Get on the ground!”
I put my hands up instead because instructions are hard when I’m about to shit my pants. Zhao grabs me around the shoulders and pulls me against his chest, hiding his face next to mine. The other men in the room drop to the ground, and the guns point at me, the human shield.
Fear puts a stopper on rational thought and instinct takes the wheel.
I grab Zhao’s arm and drop my weight. He staggers and I sidestep, getting my right leg behind his knees. I throw my upper body into his chest, and he steps back into my leg. We both go to the floor with a heavy smack.
The police are screaming.
I’m screaming.
Zhao throws out his hand and sparks explode over us. It’s bright and disorienting. He shoves out from under me, bashing my face in the process. I wink my eye shut in pain and roll, giving him the out he needs. Zhao gets to his feet, but he’s instantly tackled by police.
Then there’s a gun in my face.
And the unluckiest wretch in Boston award goes too…
two
The Deal
I’m not handcuffed to the table, so that’s a plus. They believed me when I said I was in that room because I was in trouble for stealing. They found the money in my coat and impounded it as evidence. Not sure what it proves but…here we are. I’ll have to come up with rent some other way.
I look at my reflection in the one-way mirror. The shiner on my eye looks really good next to the pink stripes I just put in my dark hair. If I’m honest with myself, it kinda makes me feel like a badass that I took a mob boss to the ground. I might be a petty thief, but I’ve got some bargaining power for all the good I did tonight.
I hope.
The door cracks open and a blond woman dressed in a blue pantsuit comes in holding a manilla envelope. A man with a thinning widow’s peak comes in after her and shuts the door.
“Jay-uh-way Feng, right?” the woman asks.
I’ve seen my fair share of cop shows, so I know what’s going on here. Mispronouncing my name is just a way to put herself in a place of authority, like she has the right to say my name wrong. Well, hell with you, woman.
“Nailed it. Perfect Mandarin,” I say with a huge grin.
She gives me a funny smile, then sits down across from me and opens the file. “I’m Detective Amherst, and I’ve been assigned to a case dealing with one Shang Zhao.”
“Nice to meet you, Armhurts.”
She scowls. “Amherst.”
“That’s what I said,” I say as I give her big, innocent eyes. Well, at least the one that’s not swollen shut.
