Page 38 of Jonas

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go fuck himself and answer. But I was with Derrika and I’d prefer this talk didn’t take up the rest of our night.

“Jonas Lang. I work for Z Corps.”

Before I could ask him if he’d ever heard of us, his eyes flashed with recognition and a healthy dose of fear.

Good.

The fuck had reason to be scared of me.

“Lou Peterson.”

The speed with which Daryl gave up his boss was almost laughable.

“Lou Peterson?” Derrika parroted. “Why did he hire you to follow me?”

Another round of his eyes ping ponging between me and Derrika.

“He wants proof you’re having an affair with Anson Sutton.”

Derrika glanced at me, her expression neutral, but there was inquiry in her gaze.

“Why does he think Amy’s having an affair with Anson?” I took over for Derrika.

“He didn’t say specifically but made mention he’s putting her up in his private apartment. He wanted bugs in her apartment and pictures if possible.”

Motherfucker.

“Listening devices. Not cameras?” I asked.

“I didn’t have cameras available. He didn’t want to wait, so just listening devices.”

“Who was in the Mercedes that picked you up?” Derrika rejoined.

“Lou’s driver.”

“There was another man in the car, who’s he?”

“Keith. That’s all he gave me.”

“Who is he?” Derrika went on.

Daryl brought his glass to his mouth, draining the rest of the amber liquid. When he was finished, his attention landed on me.

“I didn’t sign up to tangle with Zane Lewis. I also don’t want to know why you’re involved in this. I was hired to get proof Anson was stepping out on his wife. Beyond that, I don’t know what Lou was going to do with the evidence. I didn’t ask. Lou’s driver dropped me off at the Hemingway. He gave me a key fob with instructions to enter through the garage to bypass the lobby, gave me two hours to plant the bugs. He said he’d keep Amy occupied and if he couldn’t, he’d call to warn me. He called, told me I had fifteen minutes to finish, and meet him out front. I did the job I was hired to do and was picked up. That’s it. That’s all I know.”

“And Keith, how does he fit into this?” Derrika pushed.

“No idea. He didn’t say and I didn’t care enough to ask. Lou Peterson offered me ten thousand dollars for two hours’ worth of work, travel expenses paid, and a card on file for incidentals.”

So Keith could’ve been a fake name.

“Have you ever heard the name Seth Hackett?” Derrika asked.

“No.”

Derrika sat back in her chair, her gaze assessing the man across from her.

“Did you put listening devices in my bedroom?”