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Truly sighed.
Wonderful. She officially despised her new life. Who could blame her? The circumstances of her employment sucked, and her new boss wasn’t pleasant. An affront to every sister in the sisterhood, Montrose said whatever popped into his head. Most of which was rude, insulting or downright disturbing. Staring at her keychain swinging from the ignition, she debated. Give in to the bonehead who signed her paychecks. Or hold the line and be out of a job.
The desire to eat in the next two weeks won out. “Be there in twenty.”
Montrose grunted and disconnected.
She fired up the second love of her life. The engine caught and her car rumbled, sending a thrill through her. Never failed. Hearing her baby snarl always lifted her mood. The ’Cuda was one of the only things she’d managed to keep after being fired from her dream job.
The condo in the swanky downtown corridor — sold.
All her old friends — gone.
Her reputation — decimated.
And yet, the ’Cuda remained a steadfast companion, faithful in the face of adversity.
With a quick glance, she checked her blind spot, then cranked the wheel and pulled out onto the street. All quiet. No traffic on the boulevard. No one milling around or hanging out on street corners. A surprise. The seedier parts of Philly normally came alive at night.
Not here by the looks of it.
The small row houses across from the motel sat snug on their small lots, gates in crooked fences closed, interiors dark, no movement inside. She caught the occasional blue flicker of a television as she drove past low-slung wartime bungalows, turned deeper into the belly of the beast, toward the wasteland ofMontrose & Brim Investigationsand the ‘troll’ responsible for making an already less than stellar night even worse.
2
SOMETHING TRULY TERRIBLE
Montrose hadn’t lied. The guy did look like a troll. Fitting, given the office he sat in resembled the inside of a hoarder’s cave, minus the loot.
From her position on the sidewalk Truly eyed the man through a slit in Montrose & Brim’s crooked window blinds. Seated in the chair in front of her desk with a beat-up briefcase in his lap, the man waited — eyes closed, peaceful expression blunted by the angular planes of his face.
Every so often, his leg would twitch, sending one of his too-big-for-his-body feet swinging like a pendulum. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. Wide shoulders on a stocky frame. Short legs that didn’t reach the floor. Deep-set eyes over a thick brow, bulbous nose accompanied by ears that veered into a slight point.
Truly pursed her lips. Definitely troll-like.
Also… dangerous.
One glance was all it took for her to know he was trouble. The kind that would shift the trajectory of her life.
Her stomach dipped as her chest tightened. She swallowed past the knot in her throat, wondering at her reaction. She trusted her gut. Always had. Intuition was a friend of hers. She followed it without question most of the time, and yet she hesitated to turn and go, even though the situation rubbed her the wrong way. It felt more like a set-up than a meeting with a new client. Farfetched? A tad alarmist? Unwarranted given she stood outside — safe, in control, able to walk away if she wanted to, but —
“Are you gonna stand there all night?”
The raspy voice slithered out of the shadows.
Sucking in a breath, Truly spun to her left. “Jeez, Earl!”
“Scared yah, did I?”
“Where’d you come from?”
“The alley,” he said, the dirty blanket he wore like a poncho flapping as he lumbered to his favorite spot in front of the squat brick building Montrose called his shop.
He was limping, the side-to-side hitching motion not a good sign. His hip must be bothering him again.
She tipped her chin. “Need some Advil?”
Earl shook his shaggy-haired head and held up a dented pizza box. “Got all I need right here.”
