He motioned for Jolly and Rico to leave them alone.
As the door closed behind them, Raymond took a chair facing Lorenzo. Crossing his legs, leaning back, hands in his lap, he imitated the other man’s comfortable composure. Only Raymond really was relaxed.
“Don’t you think it’s time you told me what’s really going on, Lorenzo?” he asked quietly.
Lorenzo pretended not to understand.
“What were you doing at Rose Garcia’s house?”
“Just trying to help find Franco for you.”
Raymond nodded. “When I talked to you last night you said you didn’t know Franco’s girlfriend’s name.”
“This morning I realized that Franco had left his cell phone on my bar.”
Raymond lifted a brow. “I thought Franco refused a drink last night.”
“He did.” Lorenzo had begun to sweat. “But I was behind the bar, so he came over to lean against it.”
“Did he use the phone while he was there?”
Lorenzo seemed to consider that. “Not that I know of. But I had to leave the room to get the money. He could have called someone.” He shrugged.
“Do you still have the phone?”
Lorenzo reached into his pocket, pulled it out and got up to hand the cell phone to him.
“You checked numbers dialed, right? That’s how you found Rose Garcia?”
Lorenzo nodded. “I called the number this morning to make sure she was home.”
“Why didn’t you call me and tell me about this?”
“I thought I would find her, maybe get your money back and save you the effort.”
Raymond smiled. “That was thoughtful of you.” It was the weakest defense he’d ever heard. As if Lorenzo Dante cared about anyone but himself. So how would finding Franco’s girlfriend benefit Lorenzo?
“I understand this woman, Rose Garcia, got away?” Raymond asked.
Lorenzo nodded, looking sheepish. This, at least, appeared to be genuine. “She knew karate or some defense thing.”
“Where is your ex-wife?”
Lorenzo’s head jerked in obvious surprise. Raymond glimpsed panic in his eyes. “Why…what…why would you ask about Jenna?”
“Is there any reason she would leave town?”
Lorenzo blinked. “What makes you think she left town?”
Raymond said nothing.
Lorenzo’s eyes widened. He shifted in his chair. “You think she ran off with Franco?” He looked dazed by the idea. “Jenna and Franco? You think they’re together?”
The thought had never crossed Raymond’s mind. “I thought you found Franco’s girlfriend, this Rose Garcia woman.”
“I guess I was wrong,” Lorenzo said. “Jenna and Franco. Who would have known?”
Raymond tried to picture Jenna with Franco. Impossible. And yet Franco was gone with a bagful of money, and Jenna wasn’t answering her cell phone.
And yet what bothered him wasn’t how quickly Lorenzo had latched on to the idea but how he was taking it. Too calmly.
“That son of a bitch,” Lorenzo spat, as if it had just sunk in. Or he’d just realized his reaction wasn’t the right one. “I’m going to kill that bastard when I catch him.”
“Not until I get my money,” Raymond said, watching Lorenzo. This was all messed up. He couldn’t have been that wrong about Jenna. Franco wasn’t her type. But there had been a lot of money in that duffel. If Jenna had run off with Franco and the money, then it was out of desperation to get away from her ex-husband. Somehow this always seemed to come back to Lorenzo.
“I’ll take care of it,” Raymond told him. “I don’t want you involved.”
“But it’s my ex—”
“Yes, it’s your ex, exactly,” Raymond said, cutting him off. “That’s why I don’t want you involved.” He settled his gaze on Lorenzo. “You’d better hope this doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“What?”
“If you’re behind what is going on—”
“What? I’m responsible for Franco as well as a woman who divorced me?” Lorenzo looked angry as well as offended. “I let her divorce me just like you told me to. I even let her take my kid. How could I have been nicer to her?”
Chapter Eight
Flannigan Investigations was in Ballard, just north of downtown Seattle.
Rose couldn’t help but wonder why Mike Flannigan’s call had been the last one Jenna Dante received.
Recalling that private investigator Mike Flannigan had once told her he usually ate at his desk, she’d waited until she saw his receptionist and partner both leave for lunch before she let herself into his office.
True to his word, he was sitting behind his desk eating what looked like a wrap.
“On that low-carb diet?” she asked, lounging against the doorjamb as she watched him almost choke on the bite he’d just taken.
“Rose?” he managed to croak after chewing and swallowing and quite possibly stalling for time to cover his initial