Wicked Games (Hartley Grace Featherstone Mysteries Book 3) Gemma Halliday (13 ebook reader TXT) 📖

She straightened up. "Initials!" She stabbed a finger at the pair of letters. S.L. "That must be Sophia Larson."

"Yes!" I nodded. "Okay, S.L. in RR at 10:45," I read off the page. "What's RR?"

Sam scrunched up her nose a second before answering. "Oh! Restroom. Remember, Sophia said she was in the ladies' room when Connor died."

"That's right! So, Connor must have been killed around 10:45." Okay, now we were getting some real info. I glanced down at the next lines. "2 ew." I looked up. "What does that mean? Two ews? Too gross?"

We thought about that a beat before Sam perked up. "Raley likes acronyms. Not ew, E.W. Eyewitness."

"You are brilliant."

"Thank you." She did a mock bow before pointing to the line in the screen again. "There were two eyewitnesses to Sophia going to the bathroom!"

"Okay, so we know that Sophia's story checks out."

"At least about her peeing," Sam cautioned.

"And we know that Raley likes acronyms and initials." At least that got us somewhere. I flipped to the photo of the next page in Raley's notebook. "Here's another E.W." I pointed down to a line that read: Ew argument. 10:15. CS and JP.

"Argument," Sam said, perking up. "Look, CS. That must be Connor Simon."

"Eyewitness argument Connor Simon and JP." I looked at Sam. "Does that mean there was a witness who saw an argument between Connor and someone with the initials JP?"

"At 10:15. That's only half an hour before he died," Sam said. "Pretty coincidental timing."

I nodded. "Raley must have thought so to write it down."

"JP," Sam said, mulling the letters over. "You know who that has to be, right?"

"Pruit!" I said, putting it together.

Sam nodded. "The manager who supposedly had a hand in everything Connor did. Jason Pruit."

I glanced down at the notes again. Clearly Pruit was on Raley's radar.

Which made me wonder, had Simon's manager not only had a hand in everything in his life…but also his death?

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning, Sam and I woke up early, determined to find out what, exactly, Connor and his manager had argued about just before his death. We'd poured over the rest of Raley's notes, and while I gave the detective credit that it appeared he had thought to question Pruit about the argument, he hadn't noted much about the outcome of that interrogation. Only that Pruit claimed to have been on the other side of the con, checking on something at the Peak Games booth for Connor, at the time Connor had died.

Though claimed and could prove were two different things.

So, Monday morning Sam and I sat in my room as I put my phone on speaker and punched in the phone number that Chase had found the day before for the manager's office. Four rings in I was starting to worry that maybe the offices were closed that day for the long weekend, when an older woman finally answered.

"Silicon Valley Management, how may I help you?"

"Hello," I said, trying to make my voice sound older and as professional as possible. "Is Jason Pruit in?"

"May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Miss Hartley Featherstone."

"And what is this regarding, Miss Featherstone?" the woman asked. I could hear a note of suspicion entering her voice.

"Um, it's regarding one of his clients."

"Which client?"

I looked to Sam for guidance on how truthful to be, but she just shrugged.

"Mr. Connor Simon."

I heard an intake of breath on the other end before the woman's tone changed from helpful with a side of suspicion to just plain annoyed. "Mr. Pruit has no comment for any press outlet regarding his client's untimely passing. Good day."

"Wait!" I yelled. "We're not press!"

Sam raised a questioning eyebrow at me.

But I didn't hear the telltale click of the woman on the other end hanging up, so I forged ahead.

"I'm…his cousin!"

"You're Connor Simon's cousin?" The suspicion was back in the woman's voice, but that was better than annoyance.

"Yes." I nodded vigorously even though she clearly couldn't see me. "I am his cousin."

There was a pause. Then a hesitant "I'm sorry for your loss."

Sam shook her head silently at me.

I ignored it, along with the slight niggle of guilt at eliciting the receptionist's misplaced sympathies. "Anyway, I, uh, was hoping to talk to Mr. Pruit regarding my cousin's affairs."

Affairs? Sam mouthed at me.

I shrugged. Wasn't that always what people were calling a dead man's business on TV?

"I see," the woman answered slowly. "Well, I'm afraid Mr. Pruit won't be in today. I can leave him a message to get back to you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I felt my hopes deflate.

"Yes. Would you like to leave a number?"

I did, rattling off the digits to her before she unceremoniously hung up.

"Cousin, huh?" Sam said as I swiped my phone off.

"It was worth a try." I frowned. "Even if it didn't get us in."

"Well, maybe someone else could tell us what the two argued about," Sam reasoned. "According to Raley, there was an eyewitness."

"No clue who, though," I pointed out.

"Maybe Sophia overheard what it was about?" Sam offered. "She was at the con with Simon that day."

I nodded. "That's a good idea. At the very least, she could clue us in to what their relationship was like."

Sam glanced at her phone. "Gamer Con doesn't open for a while. Wanna go visit Sophia again?"

I nodded. "We're going to need a ride though. It would take too long to wait for busses."

"Wanna call Chase?"

I pursed my lips. Did I want to tempt fate for a second day in a row by riding in his rocket ship disguised as a car? "Think Kevin might be willing to lend us the Green Machine?" I suggested.

Sam cocked her head to the side and shrugged. "Worth a