“I work private.”
“Yeah? Let me see your badge.”
Anticipating this kind of day, Jase reached into the pocket of the navy blazer he was wearing, pulled out his badge wallet and flipped it open, displaying his PI license. Same as last night, his little .380 semiauto rested comfortably in the right front pocket of his dark blue jeans.
“Fine, so you’re not a cop. What do you want?”
Jase reached back inside his jacket and took out a photo he had printed off the internet of Tina, bare-breasted, in nothing but a tiny red thong. Kate made a sound in her throat when he flashed it at McCollom, but there was no help for it. “She look familiar?” he asked.
“No. I been in jail for the last six months. Get the hell out of here and leave me alone.” McCollom tried to slam the door, but Jase blocked it with his boot.
“You’ve been out three weeks. Plenty of time to enjoy a pretty young thing like Tina. You sure you never knew her?”
“She’s blond. I go for redheads.” His lips curled. “I like to pretend she’s my sister. Now leave me alone.”
Disgust curled in the pit of Jase’s stomach. He stepped back and the door slammed closed. Unfortunately, he believed the son of a bitch. The guy liked young redheads, not blondes. When he turned to Kate, the color had leached from her face.
“Come on.” He set a steadying hand at her waist. “Let’s get out of here.” Kate made no reply, just let him guide her back to the street, around to her side of the Yukon, and help her climb into the seat.
He closed the door and went around to his side of the car. “I’m really sorry, honey. I can see how hard this is on you. Why don’t you let me handle things from here on out? I give you my word, I’ll do everything in my power to find your sister’s killer.”
Tears leaked from her big brown eyes and ran down her cheeks. Kate wiped them away with a shaky hand. “I knew there were people like that in the world, but it’s different when you actually meet them, hear the terrible things they say, the awful way they treat other people.”
“Baby, you don’t have to do this. Let me take you home.”
Kate just shook her head. “I started this. I’m going to finish it. Let’s go.”
Jase silently cursed. Shoving his key into the ignition, he started the engine and buckled his seat belt.
“What’s the next name on your list?” Kate asked, stoic once more.
He sighed. “Guy named Preston Wells. He’s an accountant, works for a company called Crocker, Reynolds & Associates. Wells is into S&M. Arrested for beating a hooker with a belt. Hurt her bad enough to put her in the hospital. Hired a fancy lawyer and got the charges dropped.”
“Crocker, Reynolds is a very prestigious firm. I’m surprised they’d have a guy like that on the payroll.”
“Like I said, he was never prosecuted.”
“Maybe he learned his lesson and stayed out of trouble after that.”
“Guy with a serious kink usually ends up a repeat offender, but I suppose there’s always a chance.”
Kate settled back in the seat. “Let’s find out.”
Jase punched the company address into the Yukon’s GPS and pulled out into the street. Crocker, Reynolds was located in a high-rise building in the 700 block of St. Paul Street. Jase pulled into the underground garage and found a parking space.
Kate rode quietly beside him as the elevator rose to the eighth floor, which was entirely occupied by the accounting firm. The doors dinged open into the plush reception area, with steel gray carpet, dark wood paneling, expensive sculptures on the tables and seascapes on the walls.
Jase stepped back, allowing Kate to take the lead. This was her kind of gig. He figured a businesswoman might get further than a bounty hunter, even if he was currently working as a private dick. And she was dressed more conservatively today, in a pair of khaki pants, sandals and a short-sleeved blue print blouse.
She headed for the receptionist’s desk and gave the small, dark-haired older woman behind the counter a smile. “Hello. My name is Kate Gallagher. I’d like to see Preston Wells.”
“Do you have an appointment, Ms. Gallagher?”
“I’m afraid not. I was hoping Mr. Wells might be able to fit me in. I only need a few minutes.” Kate opened her purse, pulled out a business card and handed it over.
“‘Gallagher and Company Management Consulting,’” she read. “I’ll let Mr. Wells know you’re here. Perhaps he can spare a few minutes.”
Kate smiled. “Thank you.”
