“Thank me once we’ve handled those two assholes. Until then, I want steak for dinner.” He hung up, and Chris resumed his unproductive pacing.
When the office door finally opened, Chris hurried to walk inside before it could close behind Mickey’s visitors. Smaller than the average person, Mickey came across as anything but intimidating, but Chris knew him well enough to be wary of the man, even while being on his good side.
Without looking up from texting on his phone, Mickey said, “Yes, Roberts?”
“How’d you know it was me?”
“There’s a security camera in the plant next to my door. I saw you pacing like you’re waiting for STD results.” He put his phone down. “Well, come in, unless you want to pace some more.”
Chris closed the door behind him. “I didn’t recognize the people who just left.”
“They’re helping with my campaign. I’m sure I can count on you to volunteer at a later date.”
“Hmm, sure.” He sat in front of Mickey.
“So, to what do I owe the honor? Don’t think I didn’t notice you’ve been avoiding me ever since that littlepredicament on Fire Island.”
Chris had a sudden flashback of Dima’s hands choking him time and again, then of Tobias getting hit by a bullet. He pushed the memories away. “It was a bit more than a predicament.”
“I know, and I’ve told you how grateful I am.”
“I’m not here about that. I need your help.”
“Of course you do. A person does not pace outside someone’s office just to burn calories. Is this about a case?”
“No. My two adopted brothers are trying to kill me.”
Mickey cocked his head. “I feel there’s a bigger story behind your dramatic statement.” He leaned back and crossed his arms. “Go on.”
Chris briefly talked about his childhood and his late adoption, not dwelling on his two years with the Mitchells, just making it clear that he had to leave and cut ties with them. He then talked about the sudden passing of Robert and Kim, which led to the ridiculous will.
“Did they ever hint that you’d be getting their inheritance?” Mickey asked.
“No, never. I told the lawyer I didn’t want that money and thought that was the end of it. Last Saturday, Trevor and Andy came to my house. It turns out that I can’t waive the money without losing it to charity, and I also wouldn’t be getting it for the next two years.”
“And if you end up dead during those two years?”
He could count on Mickey to see the full, disturbing picture. “If I’m dead, the money goes to Trevor and Andy.”
Mickey looked away. It took a lot to make this man unsettled—or even bothered—but Chris had managed to achieve that.
“Are the brothers dangerous?” Mickey asked.
“Yes.”
He met Chris’s eyes. “Enough to kill?”
“Yes.” He had no way of knowing that for sure, but he could feel it in his bones.
Mickey leaned forward on his desk. “Pay them periodically until you can legally receive the inheritance. I’ll get you a raise if it helps. No man wants to risk murder, especially with such an obvious motive.”
“Trevor has a debt, and not to the bank.”
“How much?”
“A million dollars.”
“Oh, fuck me sideways. You need to have quite a talent to owe so much money.”
