The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) Brad Magnarella (ink book reader txt) 📖

could tug certain strings to make that happen, someone would just step into her place.” Arnaud seemed to be talking to himself before redirecting his voice back at me. “And then we’d be back to square one, wouldn’t we? Frankly, Mr. Croft, I’m too busy to meddle in such matters.”

The thought of misleading Vega struck me as wrong in so many ways. “I’m not doing that.”

“Oh, I think you will, Mr. Croft,” Arnaud said.

“And why’s that?”

“Because Detective Vega has a young child. And your humanity will prevent you from carrying out any foolishness that would lead to his disappearance. Such as contradicting my directive.”

His words hit me like a fist in the face. “You wouldn’t,” I growled.

He smiled.

“You son of a bitch.”

“Oh, come now,” Arnaud said, eyes gleaming. “We were getting along so pleasantly.”

“I’ll… I’ll…” But in the muddy atmosphere of the room, I couldn’t complete the sentence, much less the thought.

“It seems you need some fresh air, Mr. Croft. But before you return outside, do we have an agreement? Or would you rather have to explain to the detective why her son is imperiled?”

That was the reason for the opiate. To make an impossible offer and then prevent me from thinking clearly enough to see my way through it. Blasting him with the ring was out of the question, though I was damn sure tempted. That would only earn me—and probably Vega—a bloody date with Death.

“What am I supposed to tell her?” I asked.

Without taking his eyes from mine, Arnaud said, “Zarko, I’ve written something on the blotter on my desk. Could you bring it here?” A moment later, he reached back and accepted a folded piece of paper from his head blood slave. “You will begin by telling the detective that I warned you away last night out of concern for your safety. After all, your grandfather and I go back many centuries, and I feel a certain tenderness toward his descendants.” He grinned as though at a clever joke, then rattled the paper softly. “I have here a name and an address. Someone who, you will tell the detective, I feel may have information as to the killer’s identity and whereabouts. I want you to visit him together. I am supplying this information in exchange for the assurance that I will no longer be questioned on the matter.” He raised his pale eyebrows. “Are we agreed, Mr. Croft?”

Though I’d been beating my thoughts around for the last minute, trying to resuscitate them, they would only coalesce around the photo on Detective Vega’s desk of her and her young son.

“Mr. Croft?” Arnaud said.

“Just give it to me.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Arnaud placed the paper into my groping hand. “I will be watching to ensure you share this information post haste. And if you tip the detective off to our agreement, I will know that as well.”

“How?” I challenged.

“Changes in the detective’s behavior, the patterns she sets for her son, extra protection, so forth and so on. I have little patience for such duplicity and will show even less mercy. Do not test me there, Mr. Croft. Keep the detective occupied with what I have given you. If there is any additional information I wish to impart, I will have one of my men deliver it to you. Are we on the same page?”

I couldn’t take the atmosphere any longer. My head was dizzy and pounding. I stood, the paper clutched in one hand, and staggered toward the door.

“And Mr. Croft,” he called after me. I turned at the doorway to find Arnaud standing from his chair. “I like to think I can offer treats and not merely threats, so I’ll say something else. Should this…” He circled a hand as though in search of the right word. “…arrangement conclude to the satisfaction of all concerned, there may be something in it for you.”

“I don’t want your stinking money,” I mumbled.

“Money?” He chuckled. “Oh, no. I’m talking about something far more valuable, Mr. Croft. Information.”

The angle of his voice made me hesitate. “Such as…?”

“Such as what became of your dear mother.”

I stopped breathing. “What?”

“That will be waiting for you on the other side. Consider it a blood deal.”

I took two heavy steps toward Arnaud before Zarko gripped my arm and steered me toward the door. Though I struggled, I was no match for his strength. A moment later I stumbled into the hallway, the slaves who had brought me up already guiding me toward the elevator.

I looked at the folded-over piece of paper, then back at Arnaud’s closed door feeling like I’d been offered a deal by the devil himself.

And goddammit, I knew I had to take it.

12

I rooted around in Vega’s glove compartment until I found the aspirin bottle. My head hurt like hell, and it wasn’t only from the toxicity of Arnaud’s office. It was from just feeding Vega the crap about the person on the piece of paper, Sonny Shoat, being a potential lead. It was from not being able to tell her about the threat to her son, or about the promise Arnaud had made to tell me what had happened to my mother, who had died when I was one.

I shook two bitter tablets into my mouth, chewed and swallowed them dry, and then leaned my head back against the rest.

“Why is he insisting you come with me?” Vega asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, eyes closed. I couldn’t look her in the face. “It was just one of his conditions for doling out information.”

“He has more?”

Yeah, more to mislead you. “He suggested he might.”

“What the hell? Does he think this is some kind of game?”

“Probably.”

Vega cussed again, and I felt the car cut hard in and out of several lanes before she turned left. “I have some things to do at the office, including finding out what I can about this Sonny Shoat, and then I need to talk to Stiles, make sure he’s still good on our deal. I’ll drop