“No one. Other than you. I only drive Mr. Roy. And now you.”
He pulls over to hand me his card.
“Here’s my card. That’s my personal cell. You need a ride; you call me.”
I take the card. I don’t want to, but I do. “I thought you were Rex’s personal driver.”
“Mr. Roy made it very clear that you’re now my priority.”
“I bet he did.” I pocket the card.
Ivan smiles. “We’re here.”
I look up at the glowing marquee of Hotel Magnifique. The golden lion statues snarl at me.
I hadn’t planned to come back here.
“He told me you’d say that,” Ivan says, surprising me. I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud. He gives me a sympathetic look, a look that tells me that he knows what it’s like to deal with Rex Roy, to be manipulated by him.
And yet, Ivan believes Rex is a good man. Why? I want to ask, but something stops me.
Maybe I don’t want to know. Life is easier when I can believe that bad men are all bad.
The hotel doorman heads to my door. Ivan hits a button to unlock it.
“This isn’t over.” I fix him with a hard glare, but he only nods.
“I’ll answer when you call me. And Ms. Ramos?”
I pause halfway out the door.
“Life’s hard. My advice? Enjoy the good parts when you can.”
17
Inara
There’sanother gift waiting for me in my hotel room. Another box like the one the dress came in. This one holds a black wool coat in my size. A proper winter coat that’s better suited to New Rome temperatures than my leather jacket. He must have seen me shivering at the gravesite and sent me this.
Enjoy the good parts.Is Rex Roy good? Ivan thinks so.
The wool smells like jasmine. . . and him. I lift it, and a feather flutters to the ground. It was tucked into the lapel.
Little bird.
My phone rings, and I’m not surprised to see it’s him.Sir calling. . .I accept, ignoring the thrill I get at seeing his name. “What do you want?”
“You were at Club Empire. You could’ve waited for me.”
“I was on the case. Looking for evidence.”
“Did you find anything?”
I press my lips together before I cuss at him. “I could arrest Ivan, you know. Hold him for questioning.”
“You could. . . if you had a shred of evidence that he had anything to do with these murders. And even then, I have teams of lawyers standing by, ready to spring anyone you bring in.”
I take a moment to imagine him in custody. At my mercy. “Is that why you called? To tell me you’ve lawyered up?”
