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I wrinkled my nose. “I can be completely sure about what I’m not going to do. I might be willing to do a lot of things for Mani, but that asshole isn’t one of them.”

Skyla put her hand to my shoulder and stopped me before I pulled open the bathroom door. “You’re one tough bitch.”

I patted her hand. “Think of the stories we can tell our grandkids.”

Cowboy Hat opened the passenger door of his old truck and motioned for me to get in. If my daddy only knew… but thank God he didn’t. Climbing into trucks with strange men violated every self-protection instinct I possessed. I forced my shoulders to relax and hitched a foot onto the truck’s running board. Cowboy Hat put a helpful hand on my butt and heaved me in. I lost my balance and sprawled onto his vinyl bench seat. The truck’s heavy door shut with an ominous bang behind me. I almost lost my courage, but before I could talk myself out of going through with whatever was going to happen next, Cowboy Hat had scurried around and hopped into the driver’s seat. The bar’s neon Open sign flickered an eerie red light across his fiendish grin.

Cowboy Hat wasted no time reaching for me. “Let’s see the goods,” he said. I smacked his hand away from my breast, and he scowled. “Hey, what are you playing at?”

I swallowed the sour taste in the back of my throat and forced myself to smile. If Skyla could seduce a crime scene photographer to get the information she wanted, I could at least pretend to come on to this guy. “What’s the hurry?” I said.

Cowboy Hat narrowed his eyes. “Sure, sure, we can do this any way you like. I ain’t got nowhere else to be.”

I took a deep breath, steeled my nerves, and reached out to put my hand high on his thigh, near his crotch. His thin lips spread into a greedy smile. I scooted closer and leaned in, letting my breath ghost over his ear as I whispered, “Now, look. I said before that I don’t pay for information that isn’t any good. How do I know you aren’t yanking my chain?” I scooted my hand higher up his leg, careful not to get too close to the growing lump in his pants.

Cowboy Hat started to speak, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “The guy you’re looking for, Skoll. He’s got a buddy he runs around with. They used to come to the bar together all the time. His name’s Harold Hati.”

A current of excitement tingled over my skin, raising the fine hairs on my arms and neck. Not because of Cowboy Hat, but because I now had a lead on Harold Hati, the person of interest even the police had failed to locate. His name coming up in connection with Adam Skoll couldn’t be a coincidence. I leaned closer and put my lips to the edge of Cowboy Hat’s jaw. His bristly beard poked at me, and he smelled like old chewing tobacco. “Where can I find him?”

He pulled away and shook his head. “I ain’t tellin’ you nothing ‘til you show some good faith. Panting in my ear ain’t gonna do it.”

“Oh?” I said and slid my fingers over so that they brushed the fly of his jeans.

He exhaled in a whoosh of breath. “Now, that’s more like it.”

Cold perspiration broke out on my forehead. The beer in my stomach swirled, threatening to come back up. I hated to come this far and put myself in this degrading position without getting something for my troubles, but if Cowboy Hat insisted on pushing things further, I doubted I had the commitment to follow through. “Where is he?” I asked again.

“Put your hands in my pants and I’ll tell you.”

I froze. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have this in me—the ability to detach myself from this moment. There had to be another way. Cowboy Hat reached for my hand and guided it where he wanted it to go. His other hand unfastened the button in his waistband and tugged open his zipper. He yanked me forward by the wrist, and the action woke me from my trance.

“Is this what you want, baby?” I said, grabbing for his crotch. I locked my fingers around his most sensitive flesh and twisted. Cowboy Hat screeched, and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Tell me where he is, asshole. Harold Hati knows something about my brother’s murder, and I have to find him. Don’t think for a minute that your nuts hold any value compared to that.”

He swatted at me. “Let go of me, you crazy bitch!”

I tightened my grip, twisted again, and swallowed the bile trying to rise in my throat. I dug my nails in, and Cowboy Hat sang a high-pitched note just as a pair of headlights illuminated the back window of his truck. I prayed the lights belonged to Skyla, come to my aid. “My friend is out there. She wants the info just as badly as I do. You think I’m crazy? That girl is insane. Think of what the two of us could do to you. Thelma and Louise ain’t got nothin’ on us.”

Wheezy and panting, Cowboy Hat spat out the last of what he knew. I released his balls and leapt for the passenger-side door, anxious to escape before he recovered enough to retaliate. I twisted the handle and nearly fell out onto the ground. Cowboy Hat hurled a string of nasty insults at me as I bounded over to the 4-Runner and threw myself into the passenger seat. “Let’s ditch this hole,” I said.

“Happy to oblige.” Skyla spun gravel as we beat a hasty retreat. “What happened?” she asked, checking the rearview for signs of pursuit. I turned around and looked out the 4-Runner’s back glass. Cowboy Hat stood outside his truck, pants around his hips, one hand cradling his crotch, the other shaking in a fist as he yelled, but he showed little inclination of doing much more than that.

Never underestimate a girl who has a bigger, stronger brother. We learn how to fight at an early age, and we always fight dirty. Honestly, though, Cowboy Hat had let his guard down, and only for that reason did my attack succeed. Confronting him had been a risk, and if my plan had failed… I hated to think what might have happened. Probably something much worse than a set of sore testicles.

“I was right,” I said. “He didn’t know much.”

“So all of that for nothing?”

I shrugged. “He gave me a name and told me the guy’s last known location, but I’ve already heard of him, and he’s just as long gone as Adam Skoll.”

“What’s his name? I can ask some locals. We might get another lead.”

“Nobody knows where he is, Skyla. Even Detective Vanderleigh tried to track him down, but he couldn’t find anything.”

Skyla stiffened. Her voice was flat when she said, “What was the name, Solina?”

I sighed. “Harold Hati.”

Skyla swore under her breath. “Just what I was afraid you would say. He was a no-good son of a bitch. I should have known when he left that we hadn’t heard the last of him.”

Chapter Ten

After Skyla’s reaction to hearing Hati’s name, I explained how I had gotten Cowboy Hat to tell me Hati’s possible whereabouts. He said Hati had taken off with Adam Skoll on a commercial fishing trawler based in Siqiniq, but he didn’t know the boat’s name. Skyla responded by saying there were many commercial fishing outfits in Siqiniq, and with luck, we might find the right one. She had also said, in a deeply sarcastic tone, that with luck, we might also find a needle in a barn full of haystacks.

I dropped Skyla off at Thorin’s store. She threw a leg over her motorcycle and started the engine; it growled, low and sexy.

“Wow, that’s hot,” I said.

Skyla winked at me. “You ought to take it for a spin sometime. Give Val some competition.”

Thank God for the darkness that covered my blush. “Drive safe,” I said.

“Call me tomorrow. We’ll see what we can find out about fishing crews in the area.”

Skyla revved the motorcycle’s engine a couple of times, flicked her fingers in a brief wave, and shot off into the dark.

“Miss Mundy, I said I would give you a job. I didn’t take you for the commercial fishing type.” Aleksander Thorin appeared at my window, and his sudden arrival startled me and stole my breath. I coughed and struggled for air while he watched, as cool and composed as usual.

Are sens

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