Jessica for me. Liv can’t approach her at Savoy, obviously. See if you can find out where she’ll be when she’s not at work or home.”
“What else?”
“I need to find out how many women he has done this to.”
Noah looked skeptical. “I’ll see what I can find, but I need to know right up front how deep you want me to look.”
“How deep can you look?”
Noah’s face went eerily calm. “Pretty fucking deep.”
“Send me a bill,” Mack said, walking away. “Quietly.”
“No charge,” Noah called behind him.
Mack spun around. “What?”
Noah seemed to grow several inches in height. “Fuckers like Royce Preston deserve whatever they have coming to them. This one is pro bono.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sunset turned the horizon orange Wednesday night as Mack exited the freeway and followed the GPS directions out of the city. Gavin hadn’t been kidding. Liv lived on a farm. And not the hipster co-op kind either. This was a farm farm, with pastures and sheep—wait, no, those were goats—and a massive red barn surrounded by other smaller outbuildings. And smack in the middle, atop a small hill, was a soaring white clapboard house with a stone fence that looked like it had been erected sometime during Reconstruction.
Mack turned into the gravel driveway, drove under a canopy of trees, and slowed to a stop by a detached garage. A staircase wrapped around one side of the building and led to what he assumed was an upstairs of some kind. A single window overlooked the driveway.
Mack parked next to a dusty Ford pickup and behind a black Jeep with a faded, peeling bumper sticker that read, “A Woman Needs a Man like a Fish Needs a Bicycle.” Yeah, he was definitely in the right place.
But what the hell? Why did Liv live here?
Mack killed the engine, opened his door, and reached for the bag of Chinese takeout he’d brought as a peace offering. He’d barely slept last night. There was no way he was going to sit on the sidelines while Liv took on Royce by herself. He just had to convince her to let him help.
He slid from the driver’s seat . . . and that’s when he was attacked.
The beast came out of nowhere. Mack heard an angry squawk, saw a puff of black-and-red feathers, and felt a chunk of his shin rip beneath his jeans before he could even register what the hell was happening. The beast flew several feet in the air and kicked its legs out. Talons tore into his skin again. Mack threw himself back into the front seat and slammed the door shut just in time, but the beast simply attacked his car with a screeching cry of vengeance.
Then, suddenly a savior appeared at the top of the garage stairs. She wore floppy rubber boots and carried a broom in one hand.
“You lost?” she yelled.
A clunk against his door made him wince. The fucking thing was going to scratch his car. Mack banged his fist against his window. “What the fuck is that thing?”
Liv held a hand to her ear in the universal I can’t hear you gesture.
Mack rolled down his window. “What the hell is that?” he yelled.
She snorted. “It’s a rooster, dumbass.”
“It’s fucking possessed!”
She shrugged. “Roosters are extremely territorial.”
“It attacked me!”
“They’re also excellent judges of character.”
“Get rid of it so I can get out. We need to talk.”
“If you’re trying to incentivize me, you have failed.”
He held the bag of Chinese food out the window. “Pork lo mein and wonton soup.”
One eyebrow rose. “From where?”
Christ on a cracker. “Jade Dynasty.”
“Fine.” Liv clomped down the stairs and turned the broom on the bird. “Get. Go on.”
The bird puffed up his feathers and went after the broom. Liv swore at him and swept him all the way to the fence line before locking him inside a chain-link gate.
She returned then to the driver’s side. “There. You’re totally safe. Now hand over my food.”
Mack held the bag out the window. Liv snatched it from his fingers, peeked inside, shut it again. “Thanks. You can leave now.”
“Nope.” He opened the door. “We have stuff to talk about.”
“No, we don’t.”
“I’m going to help you with Royce.”
“I’m pretty sure I made myself clear yesterday.”
Mack got out and shut the door. “If you didn’t want me to help bring him down, you shouldn’t have told me what he was doing.”
“God, you’re like an annoying chin hair that grows back no matter how many times you pluck it. You rip the bastard out, and then ploop, two days