Ill-Gotten Games Read Free Page A

and—” she looked over his shoulder to the curb, “you’re driving an unmarked car that screams ordinary so loud, it has to belong to a cop. How am I doing?”
    Drayco looked down at his nails, then held out his hands. “I’m told I look good in maroon, and that Camry is leased. And I’m not a cop.”
    She smiled. “Private?”
    “I investigate things, yes.”
    “Did my ex-husband send you? Because if he did, tell him he’s barking up the wrong piñon tree. I’m not living with anyone and I didn’t get secretly remarried in Vegas.”
    “Piñon tree? You must be from northern Arizona.”
    “Originally.”
    “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not here on behalf of your ex-husband. I want to talk to you about your neighbor.”
    “If you mean Gina from the laundromat, I haven’t seen her since it closed.”
    “Have you seen a man coming and going?”
    She hesitated. “A skinny fellow with a black-and-white ponytail? Yeah. He keeps to himself, and I like it that way.”
    “Why?”
    “Most people give off vibes, you know? I don’t believe in auras or that touchy-feely crap, but I do know the Cairn terrier down the street growls at that man every time it sees him. With everybody else, the dog’s a lovepig.”
    “I hope my vibes aren’t bothering you.”
    She shook her head. “You don’t hear me growling, do you? Still, you want something other than maroon nail polish.”
    Just as she had sized him up, Drayco scanned her face and body language, looking for signs as to how far she’d trust him. “I’d like to get inside that laundromat. Neighbors often leave house keys with each other in case of emergencies, so I’m hoping Gina left one with you.”
    “This pony-tailed man. Not one of the good guys, I take it?”
    “Not one of the worst, but bad enough.”
    She stood there for a few moments, biting her lip. Then she turned on her heel and disappeared into a back room, her high heels clicking on the wooden floor. He was beginning to get concerned she’d bailed on him after five minutes had passed, but the sounds of clicking heralded her return. She grabbed his hand and pressed a large gold key into his palm.
    “On one condition,” she said.
    “And that is?”
    “I go with you. It’s my neighbor and friend and although you have a nice face, I don’t know you. Besides, it will look less suspicious if we’re together.”
    Still uncertain whether Drayco had been set up, he started to tell her no, but she yanked the key back. “I mean it. That’s the only way.”
    “I could break and enter.”
    “But would any evidence hold up in court? My way, I’m legally inviting you to join me. All nice and aboveboard.”
    She did have lovely sable-colored eyes, and when she batted those long eyelashes at him, he knew he was going to give in. He was a sucker for bright, intelligent eyes. As they walked to the laundromat, he asked, “So what’s a nice Native American girl who likes Thai cooking, Celtic folk music, Mehndi tattoos and gardening doing in a ratty D.C. neighborhood?”
    She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You put me to shame. You got all that in a few minutes?”
    “You have a box from a Thai spice company on your table, there’s a picture behind the door of you holding a Celtic harp, and surprisingly for a manicurist, you aren’t wearing nail polish, probably due to the harp-playing, but it allows dirt under your nails to show. As for the Mendhi, although I don’t see a tattoo design on you,” Janet blushed, and Drayco tried not to let his imagination run wild as to where she might have painted the design, “I saw henna powder tucked inside a bookcase. A woman of international tastes.”
    “I guess that’s what drew me to D.C. in the first place, the multicultural feel. That and my ex-husband’s job. It was great until he ran off with his secretary. His male secretary.”
    Having kept the key anyway, she was the one to unlock the front door to the laundromat, basically a long