Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8) Kaylie Hunter (books on motivation txt) 📖

and left-hand bodyguards, and even more surprised to see Mickey himself getting a straight-razor shave from Benny.

“Let her through,” Benny called out to Mickey’s goons.

The bodyguards held their position, preventing me from moving further into the shop.

“It’s fine,” Mickey said as Benny handed him a warm towel and adjusted Mickey’s chair to a sitting position. Mickey wiped the shaving cream off his face as he watched me approach.

I walked past them, choosing an empty swivel chair on the other side of the aisle, keeping the mirrors to my back and everyone within my line of sight.

A slight curve of Mickey’s lips was the only change in his expression. His eyes remained cold, dark, distant.

Benny’s eyes, on the other hand, held a level of curiosity. He scanned me with those eyes, looking for something. It wasn’t a sexual look. It was… something else. Like how Uncle Hank had scanned me for bullet wounds earlier in the day, except unlike Uncle Hank, Benny didn’t seem worried for my wellbeing. He seemed… surprised.

“I’m supposed to be dead, aren’t I?” I asked Benny.

Mickey’s eyes narrowed. He used his foot to swivel the chair a few degrees, shifting so Benny was no longer behind him.

Benny shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. The way you and your cousin stick your noses in everyone’s business, doesn’t surprise me to see someone got a piece of you.”

“Is that a threat? Or are you trying to tell me something?”

Benny turned toward the counter and started cleaning the straight razor. “You should be holding a fresh steak to your eyes. Helps with the swelling and discoloration.”

“Who is she?” Mickey asked Benny but kept his steely dark eyes pinned on me.

Benny dipped the straight blade razor into the alcohol solution a few more times before answering. “Kelsey Harrison’s cousin, Charlie Harrison. A cop. Goes by the name Kid.”

The crook of Mickey’s lips curved into almost smirk level. “Kid Harrison?” Mickey asked, looking me up and down. His eyes lingered a little too long on the deep v-cut of my sleeveless blouse.

“You can call me Detective Harrison. Only my friends call me Kid.”

“Maybe we should be friends then,” Mickey said, raising his eyes to mine.

I held his stare as I responded with conviction. “I’d rather shoot you than be friends with you.”

He displayed no outward change in his demeanor. He continued to study me until the bells on the barbershop doors rang. We all looked over to see Spence walk through. He stopped and lifted his hands to be frisked by the guards. Once he received the nod to proceed, he started walking our way. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me sitting in the chair.

“What the hell happened to your face? Did you get hit by a car?”

“I’m fine.” I raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

Spence shook his head and pulled a familiar envelope from his back pocket, handing it to Mickey. “That’s the rest of it. Appreciate the loan, man.”

“I told you, I’m not worried about the cash. We can work out a trade,” Mickey said, offering the envelope back.

“Nah. Thanks for the offer, but you know me. I don’t like owing anyone.”

Mickey inclined his head before sliding the envelope inside his jacket pocket unopened. “If you change your mind, you know how to find me.”

Spence looked at Mickey, then Benny, then over his shoulder at me. “Everything cool here?” Spence asked me.

“Yes.”

“You staying long?”

“No.”

He seemed undecided on whether to stay or go. “I’ll wait outside for you. I’d like to ask you a few questions about that odd phone call from earlier.”

I tipped my head at Spence before turning my attention back to Benny who was leaning casually against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

I waited until I heard the bells on the door again, followed by the whoosh of the door swinging closed. “What do you know?”

Benny shrugged. “I know lots of stuff. Like how there was a ruckus in your building last night.”

“Anything about that ruckus I should know?”

“Probably be good if you knew it wasn’t me. Not that it matters much. If there was any evidence, it won’t tie back to me. And if there wasn’t any evidence—” he shrugged again “—still wasn’t me. If that’s why you’re here, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

Benny would never give up his clients’ names, but him coming straight to the point about not being involved in the murders in my building told me someone had approached him.

Mickey stood and turned to face Benny. With a light hand on the old man’s shoulder, he steered him toward the chair he had just vacated and nudged him to sit. Then Mickey moved two chairs away where his back would be in the corner and sat again. Everything about his movements screamed power, control, dominance.

When Mickey caught me watching him, I shifted my attention back to Benny. “Anything else I should know—or not know—about your involvement?”

Benny rubbed his chin, thinking out what he’d say next. “Maybe you should know not to look too close for the person who gave Pauly a gun. That person likely didn’t know that one thing was connected to another, or he would’ve had his friend relocate until things settled.”

For the first time in all the years I’d known Benny, he showed emotion. Not much, but a glimpse. He knew Pauly. He liked Pauly. They were friends. For people like Benny, friends were hard to come by.

“The gun is already in the evidence locker, but as long as the forensic examination doesn’t come back with a match to another crime,” I shrugged, delaying my agreement, “we could consider ending our inquiries.”

“The gun will come back clean.”

“And the reason Pauly wanted a gun?”

“Said someone was watching him. Wouldn’t