Copy That by Helenkay Dimon Read Free Book Online Page B

answered. Instead of calming the racing in her stomach, his comments kicked the churning to top speed. “That explains the travel.”
    “It also means it’s not that easy to find him when he wants to stay missing.”
    “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

Chapter Six
    Bruce Casden stared across the table at his five-hundred-dollar-per-hour lawyer, Stephen Simmons. The Third. Simmons never forgot to add that annoying reminder of his old-money family whenever he introduced himself.
    Even now, framed by the dingy gray of cement prison block walls, Simmons acted as if he sat in the middle of a country club, all stiff with his perfect posture. The designer glasses and tailored suit—Bruce had paid for it all. The guy threw in the condescending smile free of charge.
    Simmons never understood how the people Bruce knew could alter the look of a man’s face. Use a razor to change the curve of his chin or take off an ear. A knife to blind him.
    Bruce knew people. The kind of people who never dreamed about someday going to college because the idea was so outside the mean streets they lived on. Bruce knew that neighborhood. Had escaped it but never forgotten how it lurked in another part of town, just waiting to drag him back in.
    The idea of seeing certain body parts of Simmons rearranged and that smug mouth twisted in pain made Bruce smile. His current situation, sitting in a windowless room with the prospect of a soulless cell as his new living quarters, sucked the amusement right back out of him.
    He stared at the thick steel door that locked them in together, glanced at the gold ring on Simmons’s pinkie as it caught the fluorescent lights. Armed guards lingered in the sterile hallway just outside the door. Their presence likely filled Simmons with a sense of security. Little did he know Bruce could snap his neck before the uniformed simpletons fumbled over each other and slipped the security card in the reader to open the door.
    “Why am I still in here and not at my office desk?” Bruce asked.
    “The government is taking a special interest in your case.”
    “That’s not news. This is the third time one of my businesses has been raided.”
    Simmons’s mouth turned up in a fake smile filled with loathing. “And the first time they found something, which is the problem.”
    “I’m a businessman with commercial properties in Arizona and California.” Bruce repeated the spiel he’d been practicing for so long. “I’m not in each office and warehouse every day and certainly can’t be expected to know what the employees there are doing. As you know, it’s very hard to find motivated and honest employees these days.”
    Simmons hesitated before flipping through the pages tacked to his file. When he stopped on one, his finger slid across the page as his eyes scanned the lines of black print. “The agents claim they found seventeen tons of marijuana in the storage room of your warehouse.”
    “And I will question everyone who works for me until I uncover the identity of the person who—”
    “They also found a drug-smuggling tunnel leading from the furnace room of your strip mall into Mexico.”
    Bruce’s back teeth slammed together. “Don’t interrupt me.”
    Simmons’s head shot up. “What?”
    “I’m paying you enough to never interrupt me when I speak. Do not do it again.”
    The chair creaked when Simmons leaned back. His stomach pulled at the buttons of his shirt and hung over his belt. “You don’t seem to understand how serious these charges are.”
    Bruce knew. He also knew they would never stick without the necessary witness. The evidence bags could go missing. Forensics could be corrupted. Eliminating a witness took more subtlety.
    While prison might provide the perfect alibi, Bruce missed his bed. “Get me out of here.”
    “It’s not that easy.”
    “I pay you to make things run smoothly. Right now, you’re not earning your fee.”
    “The bail hearing is tomorrow.”
    “I do