Lock, Stock, and Feral by Addison Moore (free e novels .txt) 📕

find what we’re looking for over in that wicked, vile town full of thugs and one shiny new suspect.

Edison, here we come.

Chapter 10

The address James Foreman gave my sister leads us to the downtown district of Edison, straight into a lux high-rise hotel called the Royal Regency.

“The penthouse?” I muse as the elevator spits us out onto polished marble floors and we find a couple of bodyguards standing outside of a gilded door while a mob of beautiful women all clamor to get inside. And now those guards will have to contend with Macy, Georgie, Juni, and me as well.

“That’s right.” Macy blows on her fingernails before buffing them over her chest. “Nothing but the best. This guy is the real deal. He’s got some serious change rolling around in his pocket, and he’s a looker. We’re talking Wolf of Wall Street material.”

“If my memory serves correctly, he was dressed more like the guy who does the taxes of those wolves.” It’s true. He was tall, lanky, and cozy in a sweater. Devan said he has some position at the publishing house Patterson Higgins was running. She said they were arguing over something business-related, and that’s as good as a motive for me.

Georgie chuckles. “If Jasper asks what you did tonight, just tell him you were running with the wolves.”

Juni sucks in a breath as she looks to the woman who bore her. “There’s a full moon tonight, Mama. How about when we finish up here we head out and run with the pack just like the old days?”

Macy scoffs. “You can run in the woods. I’ll be running wild in the bedroom.”

“And this is why I drove,” I say. “And don’t worry, Georgie. I won’t need an alibi when it comes to my husband. If Devan and her magic mushrooms turn out to be a dead end—pun intended—then I’ll be one step ahead of the game. Besides, I’m not investigating. I’m merely making sure my sister doesn’t get ravished by a wild animal.” I blink a smile her way. “Now get us through that door.”

We scuttle onward with Macy as our fearless leader. Macy, Juni, and I have all donned the requisite little black dress—as have the masses congregating around those beefy security guards. And Georgie has stayed true to herself, wearing a lime green kaftan with white paw prints all over it.

Macy elbows her way to the front of the line and gives one of the bald walls of muscle her name, and soon the gilded door is opened and she’s escorted inside.

Georgie, Juni, and I go to follow, but the door is promptly shut in our faces.

“Sorry, ladies.” The wall of muscles gives a consolatory smile. “Feel free to join the kitty collective.” He nods to the mob of women behind us. “If there’s an opening, we’ll let you know.”

“What?” I pull out my phone to text my flaky sister when the gilded door opens once again and Macy stands there like a queen with yet another security guard by her side. “Great,” I mutter. “They’re giving her the boot already.”

Juni groans. “That’s too bad because I smell men and money, two of my favorite flavors, and I was really starting to get a bad craving for both.”

“Eh.” Georgie shrugs. “I’ve got a couple of men on a pint of ice cream in the freezer. Come on over and we’ll drop a quarter in it and make it taste like money for you.”

“Just like the good old days, Ma,” Juni muses.

Macy points in our direction, and soon Mr. Muscles navigates us inside and shuts the door behind us.

“How do you like that?” I muse. “And here I thought they were showing you to the door,” I say to Macy as we step into the palatial penthouse suite. Marble floors, brass hardware, crystal chandeliers. It looks like a hotel within a hotel. Classical music floats through the air, and the scent of something sweet layered with copious amounts of cologne takes over our senses. The foyer opens to a grand room to our right with a plethora of round tables set out. Each one is covered with green felt and has at least ten men seated around it playing a game of cards.

Chips rise like mini mountains in front of a few of them, short crystal tumblers bearing dark brown liquor are staggered about, and I can see a bona fide bar to the right. A small army of women in short black dresses and tiny white aprons run to and fro with trays full of cocktails, and a handful of women are scattered among the men at the tables.

“Is this some illegal gambling outfit?” I hiss Macy’s way just as a tall redhead with one of those tiny white frilly aprons tied around her waist comes our way.

“It’s high stakes poker. It’s not illegal.” She winks over at me. “And you’re late.” She quickly hands Georgie, Juni, and me an apron, but Macy outright refuses.

“I’m here on a date,” Macy says, pointing toward the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that look like a glassy black wall at this time of night. “I see James over there. I’d better rub up against him. I hear it brings good luck into the world.” She winks my way as she takes off.

“I hear it brings babies into the world, too,” I call after her, but she just waves me off.

My sister is no stranger to dating one of my suspects. She’s always been one to live on the edge. Not even the time she was almost hacked to death by a killer has managed to deter her. Macy is the Unsinkable Molly Brown version of the dating world. Only I think her nickname would be the Unkillable Macy Baker. It doesn’t have nearly the same ring to it, but she’s still alive, so there’s that.

“It won’t bring babies into the world for me, Toots.” Georgie balls up her apron and hands it right back. “I’m here to play with the