big smile and a soft voice. There was a sign on the wall asking people to silence their phones.
This was a quiet, stress-free zone, apparently.
"I need to speak to Isla Norton."
The woman frowned and glanced at her computer screen. "Do you have an appointment? She's very busy."
He'd had enough of Isla's runaround. It wasn't this person's fault, but he wasn't going to be shown to the door.
"So am I. I'm an old friend of Isla's and she knows why I'm here. She can either talk to me right now or I can have the police come down here and escort her to the station. You can tell her it's her choice. I'll wait while you do that."
And then he did just that, declining to take a seat when it was offered. He stood at the counter while the obviously flustered woman hurried through a side door while the other patrons gave him curious looks. It was only a moment later when she stepped out of that doorway and addressed him.
"Isla will see you now."
"Thank you."
The woman gave him a scowl as he walked past, letting him know in no uncertain terms she found him to be a rude asshole.
She's not the first. Definitely won't be the last.
Isla's office was as opulent as her waiting room, with a large glass desk positioned in front of a picture window. There was another leather couch against the wall and a second waterfall to Ryan's left. Even the carpet seemed design to muffle any steps or noise.
"Ryan! It's so good to see you."
Isla gave him a hug, all smiles and welcome which surprised him. He'd assumed she would be angry at the way he'd butted into her office.
"It's good to finally see you too, Isla. I've been trying to talk to you for a couple of days now."
She threw up her hands and laughed. "I've been so busy lately. We're expanding to a new location and I swear I have nothing but meetings all day."
He had to tamp down the annoyance that immediately rose at her seemingly careless attitude. He needed her cooperation.
"I've been trying to talk to you about Brad," Ryan said. "I'm investigating his murder, as you know."
"I do know," she said, waving her arm toward the couch. "Let's sit down and catch up."
Ryan didn't want to catch up with Isla, he wanted answers to his questions.
"We need to talk about Brad. Why haven't you returned my calls?"
Her eyes widened and she appeared shocked at his frustrated tone. "I got your messages but I didn't think it was all that important."
Christ on a crutch, had Isla always been like this?
Yes, she had. He was now remembering how difficult she'd always been. And not for any particular reason, just because she liked to be in control and have her way.
"You didn't think a murder investigation was important? What would be important in your eyes, Isla?"
She pursed her lips and shrugged. "Brad's been gone a long time. What's a few more days?"
"Your empathy is overwhelming. I take it you didn't like Brad that much."
Hopping up from the couch, Isla shook her finger at Ryan. "I liked Brad. He was a nice guy. I liked the real him, the person you all didn't even know. But he's been gone for a long time and does it really matter how it all happened? It won't bring him back."
As usual, Isla wasn't thinking about anyone but herself.
"It matters to his family. Just because it doesn't matter to you doesn't mean that everyone thinks like you do."
"It won't bring him back," she repeated, her chin lifted. "Besides, I don't see how I can help your investigation. I don't know what happened to Brad that night. I left the bar and never saw him again."
"But you were seeing him," Ryan stated. "Everyone knows you were sleeping with Brad."
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed a water bottle from her desk and took a drink before replying. "Yes, we were sleeping together. That doesn't mean I know what happened to him that night. We weren't a couple. We were fucking."
"That means that you were spending time with Brad those last weeks before he disappeared. We know that he was in contact with multiple bookies and he was spending tens of thousands of dollars. Did you know he had a gambling problem? Was he upset or worried about anything? Did he mention anyone new? Perhaps an Aaron?"
He didn't mean to throw out all of his questions at once, but he was trying to