Page 80 of Raff
Teddy had supplied me with a few days’ worth of pajamas, but he’d also included a couple of outfits for leaving the penthouse.
I slipped into an athleisure set in black then made my way into the bathroom to add some oil to my hair to hydrate the curls so they had a little more definition to the ringlets.
I had no makeup, so after brushing my teeth, I made my way out into the main area to find Raff speaking to a tall, lanky guy with dark, somewhat unkempt hair, a messenger bag, and a to-go coffee dangling from his fingers.
“There she is,” Raff said, shooting one of those disarming smiles in my direction. “Arty, this is Lula. Lula, Arty.”
Arty turned, gave me an awkward nod, then clutched his messenger bag like it was killing him to interact with people for just a few minutes.
I didn’t know a lot of these guys, but the general stereotype was that they preferred to be at home with their computers more than in the wild with other human beings.
“Nice to meet you,” I told him, getting an awkward little no in response.
“I was just asking Arty about the murder. He was telling me that the cops suspected Drake almost from the jump because the woman kept a detailed journal. The problem was—”
“He had a fake identity,” I supplied.
“Yeah,” Arty said.
“Where was this?”
“Nevada.”
“Recently?”
“Not long before he probably showed up in Shady Valley.”
So, he’d murdered a woman then came right to me?
“Why is he in Florida?” I asked.
“This is where his father is in prison. And he’s been sick.”
“What about the hitman angle?” Raff piped in. “Do we know if he met him online, in person, how he might have come across him?”
“I don’t have that. But I do have the hitman’s rap sheet. It wouldn’t be hard for someone looking to know this would be an easy person to get to do your dirty work for you.”
“Do you have any idea if Drake is still here or if he’s skipped town?”
“I think Drake must travel by car or some kind of public transit. I can’t find any information about him getting on a plane. Your guess is as good as mine on that.”
So, basically, he could be anywhere. A few blocks away. Already on his way to a new town, a new pool of potential victims.
“Not really my place, but why are you trying to confront him? If the motivation is your money, he’s probably already stuck it in a digital wallet, so it’s untraceable.”
I shared a blank look with Raff.
“Explain your point like you’re talking to two people who go outside and talk to other people.”
Arty’s lips curved ever so slightly at that.
“If you want your money, find his digital wallet, get it hacked, and steal it back.”
“That’s… possible? I thought digital wallets were secure. That’s kind of the point, right?” I asked.
To that, Arty shrugged. “Everything with banking is secure. But people are stupid.”
“Again, I spend my free time partying and fucking. You’re gonna need to be more specific,” Raff said.
