Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
It would be a miracle if he survived the afternoon. “How does Chelsea feel about heading to LA for a couple of weeks?”
“Months,” Alex corrected. “This could take months, and Sully has promised to pay top dollar.”
Charlie frowned. “I don’t know that I want to be so far away from my sister after the babies are born. I kind of hate that idea.”
“I’ll figure it out.” If Charlie wanted Chelsea, who was the single least maternal woman he’d ever met, around their babies, then Chelsea would be there. “Maybe this once, Jesse can work with Michael.”
She went on her toes and kissed him. “Thanks, babe. And have you come up with a name yet?”
“Rocky.” It was a joke between them now. “Or Rambo. Hey, maybe you’ll name yours Rambo. I think they’re perfect names for twins.”
She made a vomiting sound and slipped her hand in his as they walked down the hall. “Over my dead body.”
“Is he still doing this? What was it last week?” Alex asked.
Ian saw the conference room up ahead. It was full of Sully’s “cast.” Apparently, it wasn’t Kendalmire’s way to travel with less than an entourage. “Chuck. Girls can be named Chuck.”
“Not if they want to have any kind of a social life. Ian, they’ll be here soon. Mine is Kenzie. Her sister needs a name that wasn’t plucked from an action movie.” Charlie gave him her death stare but it was softened by the hand on her belly. She smoothed it over as though soothing the babies inside. “We can discuss it after the meeting.”
He stepped inside, and Sully was talking to his people.
“This is all going to be over soon and it won’t disrupt your schedule.” Sully spoke in silky tones, like he was calming down an unruly child. “Trust Mr. Taggart. He’s got a sixth sense about this kind of thing. We’ll have you safe in no time, Hoover.”
Hoover Kendalmire stood at the back of the conference room, his likely expensive loafers tapping against the floor. “My life isn’t safe, Sully. There’s nothing about this life that’s safe, and I’m going to put it all into my music, man. You’ll see. I’m going to be the new Eminem. Except way more attractive and less angry. Why so angry, dude? But seriously, I’m going to be the Eminem of Malibu.”
Sully sighed. “Well, we can get right on that as soon as we get back to California. We’ll be out of here soon.”
An emaciated blonde flipped her hair back. Ah, the girl who modeled. According to her press kit, Brie Westerhaven was the daughter of a minor rock star from the eighties and a groupie who didn’t know how to use birth control. The show chronicled her attempts to make it big on fashion runways while her dunce boy attempted to take on the music business in absolutely the most superficial of ways. They were surrounded by hangers on. Hoover’s two brothers, his producer, who looked heavily invested in dental gold if that grill he was wearing was real, two personal assistants, who looked like they really wished they’d finished college and gotten real jobs, and the chick with the crazy eyes.
Maybe they wouldn’t need months to solve this case.
Ian looked over at Alex, who shook his head.
“You can’t know that,” Alex muttered under his breath. “Don’t, Ian. We should follow procedure.”
“Do you see those eyes?” It was all so clear to him and he’d spent two seconds with these people.
Alex’s mouth firmed stubbornly. “It could mean nothing. Let Jesse handle it. He’ll follow procedure and we’ll actually make money off this.”
Brie shook her head as she paced. “God, I hope we get back to Cali soon. This is so boring. I thought Texas was one of those not real places. You know what I mean.”
She glanced over at a woman who stood by her side, staring up at the model as if she was the second coming of the Virgin Mary. “I do. You’re so smart, Brie. I didn’t think Texas was real either. I mean who would? Sully, we should tape this scene. Brie is so funny.”
“Dude, anyone who’s seen Dallas knows it’s real, hello.” Hoover waved a hand through the air as though it was all too much for him. “Don’t you watch TV and shit? Where do you think J.R. came from? It’s a brilliantly ironic television show about global warming.”
The pixiesque woman by Brie shot the DJ a look Ian had seen before.
Damn, Sully had really lost his touch. He used to be good at understanding the people around him. Alex wasn’t going to like it, but Ian really couldn’t stand the thought of even having these people as an open case halfway across the country. It was time to shut this shit down.
He pointed at the girl because despite the fact that Sully was willing to pay by the hour, if these people didn’t get out of his office he was going to launch a grenade at them. “It’s Crazy Eyes. She’s in love with Dimwitted Blonde, and she tried to kill Douchebag.”