“You’re going to be waiting a long time. Now get that camera out of my face.”
“Got something to hide, Killer?”
“Killer, huh? That’s inventive. I’veneverheard that one before.”
“You know what they say about the shoe fitting.”Flash, flash.
“Look, I’m pretty sure your readers, although I use the term loosely, aren’t going to want to shell out their hard-earned cash for pictures of me standing in a hallway.”
“We’ll see, Alex. We’ll see.”
“It’s Mr. Markov to you.”
“Ooh, formal. A stickler for etiquette, are you? Is that why you killed your girlfriend? Because she dared to use your first name?”
“Get the fuck off my property.”
“I’m not bothering any customers. How do you know I’m not just a tourist who lost his way in the hotel?”
Once his blood pressure started to race, Alex figured it was better to call in the experts. He dialed Wade on his cellphone. “Wade, he’s back.”
“Where are you?”
“Near the entrance to Decadence. I’m meeting Marissa in a few minutes and I’d rather not expose her to this filth.”
“I’m on my way.”
Knowing Wade, he’d be moving at a good clip. He’d been on the lookout for the man ever since Alex first noticed him and his hands must be itching with the need to escort him to the door.
“Ah, come on,” said the paparazzo. “Be a good sport. The world wants your story. I’m giving you a chance to share it.”
“There’s no story.”
“That’s not what the parents of Shannon Dean keep saying. They have some definite ideas about you, mister. Did you hear the latest? They’re saying that even if you didn’t kill Shannon, you drove her to suicide.”
Even though every muscle in Alex’s body was screaming at him to use them against the man, he stood still, hands clenched. “She didn’t commit suicide. It was an accident. Ask the coroner.”
“Right. Because coroners are infallible. They never get anything wrong, do they?”
Rise above it.If you react, it’ll be all over the papers.
“So tell me the truth. We know you argued with Shannon before she died. You admitted as much yourself. Did you tell her to commit suicide?”
Where the fuck was Wade?
Just like that, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Wade appeared around the corner, his face red. “Oy! Patterson, you son of a bitch, didn’t I warn you to stay away?”
“Wade,” Patterson drawled. “My old buddy. We really need to grab a beer and catch up one of these days.”
Wade snarled.
“On second thought, maybe some other time.” The paparazzo broke into a sprint. “See you,Killer!”
As the pursuit steered away from him, Alex tasted blood. Shit. He’d been biting his lip and hadn’t even noticed. He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
The door to the old piano bar opened. Marissa Flores appeared, her shrewd eyes narrowed. “Hey, Alex. You okay?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry for the excitement.”
