Black

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Mugsy glared out from his position by Roxie's leg as Black walked through the office door. Roxie was seated at her desk applying a layer of what looked like tar to her short fingernails.

"Well, good morning. Hard at work, I see," Black said.

She glanced at him with silent insolence, a moue of indifference her only greeting.

"How did the show go?"

"Great. I'm turning in my notice. I got signed by Capital Records and go into the studio next week."

"So, not a great turnout?"

She shrugged. "Monday night."

Black didn't ask about Eric, and Roxie didn't volunteer anything.

"Is Mugsy getting even fatter?" he asked as he passed her desk. He hesitated a few feet away and debated petting the hostile tabby, but thought better of it when Mugsy stood and arched his back, looking ready to defend his honor with claws. "I swear I don't understand why the tubby bastard dislikes me so much."

"He loves you. He just has a hard time showing it."

"Yeah. Kind of like how a bear loves a salmon. Listen, I'm only going to be in for a few minutes. I have a list of phone numbers we need to get call records for. Three cells and a landline. And I want you to run Hunter and see what comes up on his finances or liens and judgments - you know the drill. Oh, and I also have a contract with some names on it I need you to try to locate - low-end movie grifters, by the sound of it."

She turned, her chair squeaking as it pivoted. He handed her Jared's contract and one of his business cards with Hunter's phone numbers printed on the back in pencil. She took them with her free hand, the other drying, and returned to her original position to complete her cosmetology mission, frowning disapproval at having been thoughtlessly interrupted.

Black decided to stifle his complaint and play nice. "We got a job. I'm going to pick up a check this morning."

"Great. Is it enough to cover my salary?"

"And then some. Even with the lavish wages I struggle to pay you."

"Awesome," she said in the perennially bored tone that signaled she'd already drifted on to more important matters.

Black took another step toward his office and paused for an instant, then arrived at a silent decision and continued inside. He flipped the wall switch and the fluorescent lights illuminated with a flicker. He sat heavily in his chair, tapped his mouse, and waited for his computer to come to life.

Roxie would have the phone records by the end of the day, he knew. She was magic at things like pretexting, which, while illegal, was the most expedient way of obtaining them. He wanted to understand what he was getting into with Hunter, and the first step would be to figure out whether the former security chief or any of the Hunter clan had been sneaking calls to Freddie. Job number one in figuring out who was behind his woes would be isolating the leak and containing it.

He'd already contacted his friend Mitch, one of the best private security providers in town, and arranged for him to contact Hunter that morning, so he mentally checked that off his list. His email inbox popped up on the screen, and he performed a cursory scan of the messages promising to give him longer-lasting erections or an application for his phone that would enable him to see women's underwear. Tuesdays weren't a big correspondence day. Rather like the other days in the Black Solutions week.

His appointment with Kelso lingered in his psyche like toxic fumes, and he sneaked a glance at Roxie in the other room, just visible at that angle as she finished her nails. The good doctor had it all wrong. There was no way he felt any kind of meaningful attraction for her. The therapist had sex on the brain.