Damn.
Jina had met her in the lobby once last year, back when she still worked at Denver’s largest law firm, Bender, Littlepage & Price, P.C., before she went solo.
Grace was a good person.
Whoever killed her needed to rot in hell.
5
Day One
July 15
Tuesday Morning
Durivage’s contact didn’t show up at 10:30 or even 10:35 for that matter. He punched a phone booth, paced, and decided he’d give the guy five more minutes.
That was all.
Five minutes.
Then—poof!—he’d be gone.
Four minutes later the Asian bombshell from the cab walked up and said, “I’m your contact.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t get it,” Durivage said.
“You mean the cab?”
Right.
The cab.
“I was scoping you out,” she said. “I’m particular about who I work with.”
Durivage smiled and shook his head.
“I take it I passed,” he said.
“You passed enough to get this far,” she said. “Whether you get any further remains to be seen. Tell me what the project’s about.”
“What’s your name?”
She hesitated then said, “Zongying.”
“Zongying?”
“Right, Zongying.”
“Have you had breakfast yet?”
“I don’t eat breakfast,” she said. “I’ll take some coffee though.”
They ended up in a booth at a nice place called the Paramount Café where coffee cups were five times bigger than what Paris served. Zongying took a careful sip, studied Durivage and leaned forward. “Tell me about the project.”
Durivage shrugged.
“The project is pretty simple,” he said. “It’s to find a woman named Emmanuelle Martin.”
“Emmanuelle,” Zongying said. “Is she French?”
Durivage nodded.
“Your wife?”
“No.”
“Your lover?”
Durivage narrowed his eyes.
“Occasionally,” Durivage said. “That pretty much came to an end a few days ago when she tried to kill me.”
“She tried to kill you?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“It’s complicated,” he said.
“Were you cheating on her?”
He grinned.
“No, nothing like that,” he said. “She was a lover but only when it was convenient for her. We weren’t exclusive by any means. Like I said, it’s complicated.”
Zongying wasn’t impressed.
“Un-complicate it for me,” she said.
“Trust me, none of what you’re asking is relevant,” Durivage said.
Zongying almost got up and left.
“What happens when we find her?” Zongying asked. “Are you going to kill her? Are you going to teach her a lesson for messing with you?”
“Would that be a problem?”
“Not really.”
“You wouldn’t care if I killed her?”
“People kill people,” she said. “It’s none of my business.”
“That’s pretty cold,” he said.
“I don’t make the temperature,” she said. “I just dress for it.”
A waitress swung past with a pitcher and topped off their cups. Durivage said, “Thanks,” then refocused on Zongying. “If she finds out I’m looking for her, that will be her thought, that I’m trying to hunt her down for revenge. Actually, the reason I’m trying to find her is the exact opposite.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning I’m here to save her.”
“From who?”
“From someone who’s going to kill her.”
“Who?”
“A hitman.” He pulled an envelope out of his suit pocket and slid it across the table to her. “That’s half,” he said. “You get the other half when we find her.”
Zongying stuffed the envelope in her purse.
“Do you have a picture of her?”
He pulled one out of his wallet.
Zongying studied it and said, “She’s pretty.”
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Client Trap (Nick Teffinger Thriller) Page 28