"Marcus is the human who was with you at the parking lot?"
"Yes."
"His last name?"
He hesitated, and I leaned a little on the brick. "For fuck's sake," he said, licking the sweat from his lips. "It's Handberry. Marcus Handberry."
I eased up again. "And where might I find this Marcus Handberry?"
"He's at the club most nights after eleven."
"What club?"
"The Phoenix. He owns it. Has an office out the back. Jesus, woman, let me go. I've given you everything you want."
"You haven't told me why you were assigned to me in the first place."
"Marc had to get some information out of you, that's all."
"What sort of information?"
"About your father. I don't know any more than that—honest."
I didn't believe him. Or maybe I didn't want to believe him. "And then you intended to kill me afterward."
"No—"
I didn't let him finish the lie, just rammed the brick down a little harder. The part of me that wasn't comfortable with violence didn't seem to be making an appearance right now.