Rutledge was not one of those men. He hadn’t been around for very long and most of what Layne knew about him was that he was dirty so he didn’t want to know much more. Unfortunately, since he was dirty, Layne had to investigate him so Layne knew Rutledge a lot more than he wanted to and none of what he knew was any good.
Layne couldn’t begin to guess what was going on in Rutledge’s mind after Layne behaved like normal. He could think it was indication that Layne had learned his lesson and backed down. He could wonder if he’d been wrong about what he suspected Layne was doing before he told whoever was pulling his strings to order the hit thus wondering if he acted rashly. He could be considering both or something else. Layne hoped he was considering both. They needed him off-balance and guessing not only the extent of their knowledge and who held it but also what they’d do next.
Colt, Sully and Mike weren’t there and Drew had corralled him to tell him about some weird shit that was happening at the Christian Church. Drew wasn’t wrong, it didn’t sound good, but Layne couldn’t look into it.
About two days after Layne came home and set up shop over Mimi’s, Merry punted him a case. Something the cops couldn’t stick their noses into and something that the interested party couldn’t pay a private detective for, especially not at Layne’s rates. It wasn’t a big deal, doing some searches, printing out credit history, it took him ten minutes. But he’d done it, he’d done it gratis and he shouldn’t have. It was the beginning of what Merry called Layne’s “Robin Hood Caseload”. Merry regularly punted shit he knew needed looking into, people he knew who needed help; all of them unable to pay for it, and Layne took them on and took care of their shit. The problem was, shit like that spreads so Sully and Sean jumped on the bandwagon. Then Drew.
The only ones who didn’t do it were Harrison Rutledge, Alec Colton and Mike Haines.
Rutledge didn’t because he didn’t know Layne and because he didn’t give a shit if someone was in trouble and needed help.
Layne figured Colt and Haines knew it was happening and didn’t interfere but they also didn’t participate. What Layne didn’t know was if it was because they disagreed with him doing it or they didn’t want to take advantage of a friendship.
Gabby didn’t lie, he charged top dollar because he gave quick, efficient, confidential service on any matter you could possibly need a private investigator for. He’d travelled a lot, had an extensive and varied set of skills and people all over the country knew of him or had worked with him. He came highly recommended. Because of that, his reputation had preceded him and he had clients even before he’d located office space.
Most of his clients came from Indianapolis which meant most of his work was there. He had some clients from the ‘burg but they lived in developments like where Rocky used to live.
With a healthy bank balance and money coming in, this meant he could carry a Robin Hood Caseload. Being out of work for five weeks and his nest egg depleted, this meant he needed to focus.
This sucked, especially after what Drew told him about what he suspected was happening at the Church.
“Seriously man, this is what I think it is, and I got a bad feeling it is, then…” Drew was trying to persuade him but Drew trailed off when his eyes went over Layne’s shoulder and his face grew distracted.
Layne turned to see what caught his attention but he heard her heels on the floor before he saw her.
Rocky was walking across the room.
Strike that, Rocky was strutting across the room wearing a skirt much like yesterday’s, this one the color of cranberries, just as tight but there was a sexy slit up the front so you saw a hint of her inner thigh every other stride she took. She had on a black blouse, this one almost see-through, a black camisole under it and it fit her perfectly, too perfectly, like yesterday’s blouse. She also had on a pair of shoes the color of her skirt, the leather shiny, the heel high and thin, no strap this time and they were the absolute definition of fuck-me shoes. Her hair was twisted in a complicated knot at the nape of her neck and she had a little leather purse that matched her shoes on a short strap that tucked it under her pit.
She strutted through the room smiling, giving little waves to men she knew and also giving absolutely no indication that she knew all the men watching her, and every man in that room was watching her, was struggling to control his dick getting hard.
She rounded Merry’s desk and Layne watched, with no small amount of irritation, as she stood there looking at it for a moment as if searching for something. Then she found it, reached for a piece of paper and pen and leaned over, ass in the air, skirt stretched tight across it – and her hips and upper thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination – and she started scribbling.
Layne tore his eyes off Rocky and looked at the desk next to Merry’s, separated by a three foot aisle, where Rutledge was sitting, his eyes glued to Rocky’s ass.
Fuck!
In the second she’d bent over, she’d cast her net and, even with Merry one of the prime suspects of who’d pegged Rutledge as dirty and sicced Layne on him, Rutledge wasn’t struggling even a little bit against the net.
Layne looked back at Raquel and saw she’d turned her head toward Rutledge and then she straightened. She smiled at Rutledge and moved toward him.
The instant she did, Layne made a decision.
“We’ll finish later,” Layne told Drew on a mutter and he strode, fast and with purpose, right to Rocky.
She had her back to him and didn’t hear him coming, was intent on what she was doing or intended to ignore him having no idea what he was about to do.
He heard her saying, “…not answering his phone so it’d be a big help if you could tell him…” when he got up close. Without hesitation, he swung his arm back, hand open and then smacked her lightly, but the sound carried, right on the ass.