Page 23 of Bobbing for Bodies
“What are the terms?” Everett leans in, that serious expression still pinned on his face. He decided to eschew my fashion advice and wore a suit anyhow. And now that we’re in this hot box, I don’t mind at all that Everett looks so intimidating.
The man in the white suit twirls the pencil in his hand while staring Everett down. There is definitely some male testosterone showdown going on that I want no part in. Thank God I dragged Everett down here with me. I can’t imagine how terrifying this entire experience would have been if it were just my butter knife and me. I really do need to up my game in the weapons department. The least I can do is carry around a bottle of pan spray so I can blind a perpetrator or two.
“Now”—Mr. White Suit tosses his hands over his desk—“in no way am I a loan shark. This is a short-term small industry loan.”
“Numbers,” Everett grumbles. “I need numbers.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll give you the full amount due on signing. Ten points for a six-month window with each month compounding. In other words, it would behoove you to pay it off in a month.” He blinks a quick smile. “It would behoove me for you to pay it back in six months or never—collateral being the house once you sign. Until then, I’ll hold the spare keys to the two a yous vehicles. You can bring those in when we do the exchange.”
I lean in and clear my throat. “How fast can we get the money?”
His chest bucks a few times with a dry laugh. “Honey, I got the money here today. Getting the money isn’t a problem. You’ll have your bank account filled legally. We write cashier’s checks. And lastly, we do a drive-by twice a week past your residence. Consider it an added layer of security you didn’t know you needed.”
“We won’t skip town,” Everett notes, and I jump in my seat.
My God, I didn’t even connect the mafia-inspired dots! And here I thought these nice men were looking to keep our shiny new neighborhood crime-free. Ha! Andthey’rethe criminals!
My entire body heats to unsafe levels, and suddenly I’m itching to get out of here. But what about Hunter?
I glance around and spot a file cabinet that looks rusted shut, then another quick sweep for any evidence of security camera and an idea comes to me. That computer he’s tap-dancing on is my best bet.
“Excuse me”—I lift a finger weakly as I interject—“would you mind giving us a moment together so we can process this? It’s a lot to take in and uh…” Boss Hog here looks as if his patience with me is dwindling. “Well, I’m just a little ol’ baker, and I need my big, strong husband to translate all those daunting numbers for me.” As if. I shed a wide smile. That was one lie I didn’t mind at all imparting.
He gives a sober shake of the head. “Oh, I get it.”
And I figured you would.
He struggles to rise before hitting the door. “I’m gonna run next door and grab a cold one. Can I get you anything?”
Both Everett and I decline his offer. No sooner does the door shut behind him than I bolt over and seal my body against it.
“What are you doing?” Everett hisses, his eyes bulging with horror.
“I’m shielding the door while you look for any files on Hunter Fisher on that computer!”
“Geez.” Everett looks as if I’ve just threatened to run over him with a semi. “I’ll hold the door. I am not violating anybody’s privacy. I happen to make a living off of other people trampling over one another’s constitutional rights.”
He trades places with me, and I bolt to the desk where a screensaver of a scantily clad woman with her thighs split open jars me before I hit a key and the dashboard loads before me. I click into finder and begin scanning for anything that might remotely get me to where I want to be. There’s a file markedOpen Cases, and I quickly scan an entire roster of names, only to realize there’s enough to fill a phonebook.
“I’ll never get to the end of this,” I hiss.
“Get to the end of it now,” Everett hisses back. “I’m giving you less than thirty seconds to get back in your seat.”
“Fine.” I shut the file down and note one with the nameClosed Cases. “Maybe it’s here.”
There’s a rustle outside the door, and both Everett and I freeze solid. Everett is glaring at me as if I had accidentally dragged him off to ground zero just before a nuclear warhead were to drop out of the sky. And, honestly, that might have been more painless. The rustling subsides, and I get back to clicking. My entire body breaks out into a sweat. I can hardly steady my breathing as I scan the list all the way to the letter F.
“Hunter Fisher!” I practically screech his name out.
“Sshh,” Everett hushes me just as loud.
“Okay, let’s see what it says.” I whip my phone out and snap a few pictures of the screen before reading over it quickly. “Two loans for the amount of three thousand dollars each. Both paid off in full. Ten points on pick up. March of last year and July. The foot note says—” I scan over it myself and can hardly believe it.
“What does it say?” Everett flicks his hand through the air, signaling for me to speed it up.
“It says money for girlfriend. Money for kid.” Huh.
The sound of a belly laugh coming from down the hall proceeds to get louder, and I’m betting it’s Mr. White Suit.