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“Yes. That’s why I want to question Nyla.”
“I’ll make the arrangements and let my team know so we won’t be followed.”
He was about to walk off when Hollis said. “By the way, I got a call from Detective Connors. He thinks they found Nick Underwood’s watch at a pawn shop in Pensacola.”
“Pensacola?”
“Yes. He and Detective Tomlin are going to pick it up tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 25
“Good to see you, Quasar,” Locke said, giving his friend a bear hug.
“Glad to be here, man. But you can keep the damn heat,” Quasar Patterson said, grinning.
“I know, right.” Locke then presented the woman by his side. “And this is Hollis Calloway, the private investigator who is assisting me on the case, as well as a special friend.” He honestly didn’t think he had to tack on the latter since he felt certain Striker had already told Quasar about his personal interest in Hollis.
Quasar extended his hand. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Calloway.”
“Please call me Hollis.”
“And I’m Quasar.”
Locke glanced around. “Where are Karl and Nyla?”
“In the kitchen. We just finished dinner. Nyla cooked, and she’s a damn good one. Striker told me I’ll probably gain a few pounds while I’m here, so I’m glad this place has a fitness studio with every piece of gym equipment imaginable.”
“You plan to stay in shape while you’re here?”
“Yes, since I don’t have Quay to chase behind for three weeks,” he said, referring to his very active young son.
At that moment Karl and Nyla came out of the kitchen, smiling. “We heard you guys were coming for a visit,” Karl said, as he and Nyla gave them both hugs.
“Yes, but this isn’t a personal visit,” Locke said. “We’re here to ask Nyla a few questions.”
“Me?” Nyla said, looking confused.
“Yes. Is there a place where we can sit and talk?” Hollis asked.
“Sure,” Nyla said, taking Karl’s hand. “We just finished cleaning up the kitchen, so the table is available. Just follow me.”
***
“So, what questions do you have for Nyla?” Karl asked, easing into the chair beside her.
Hollis could hear the protectiveness in his tone, and she understood. That was how love worked. He was protective of Nyla, and he had every right to be.
“It’s about your gun, Nyla.”
A confused look settled in Nyla’s features. “But I don’t own a gun.”
“You’ve never owned a gun?”
“No.” Then she said, “Wait a minute, yes, I did. About eight years ago. I was twenty-four, had returned to Tampa from college, and moved out of my parents’ home into a condo. They weren’t too happy about that, but I felt it was time. Anyway, that’s when I bought a gun. It was Aunt Kat’s idea, actually.”
“Katherine Farrell?”
“Yes. She’s my dad’s sister and my favorite aunt. Dad didn’t like that she stayed in New York after college and didn’t return to Tampa, so she understood my need to flex my independence and have my own place. She suggested I purchase a weapon for protection and, during one of her visits, took me to one of those gun shows to buy it.”
