Free The Chase by DiAnn Mills Page B

move. Kariss didn’t plan to reveal her writing project to the group. She simply needed to breathe the same air as those who often faced challenges with their writing.
    Just as she pulled off the 610 loop her phone jingled again, and she answered before checking the caller.
    “Do you mean I actually have the great Kariss Walker, bestselling, award-winning author?” Sarcasm rippled through Meredith’s tone.
    “I apologize for not returning your call.”
    “Lately all I get is a recording.”
    Kariss moistened her lips. “I did my best to explain how I feel when you were here in Houston.”
    “Useless tripe.”
    The woman could crumble a cement wall with her cutting tone. “I feel like a redundant fool here, but I don’t know how else to communicate my desire to write this novel.”
    “Try me, because your actions are not conducive to my caliber of writers. The Rockford Literary Agency handles only bestselling writers who adhere to my career plan for their lives. Writers stand in line for my wisdom and consideration for me to represent them. I’ve worked hard for you in developing a platform, and what have you done in return?”
    “Excuse me. I believe you’ve received a hefty percentage of my advances and royalty checks.”
    “But you’re high maintenance. I had to beg for the country’s best image coach to redo your wardrobe, makeup, teach you how to speak—”
    Fury danced in Kariss’s veins. “That wasn’t me. I became a part of your agency because I already had those essentials from my TV days, including a platform. May I suggest you have my file in front of you before you place your next call?”
    “Whatever. This call is to inform you that I must have the new book proposal in my in-box within twenty-four hours.”
    Kariss acknowledged her one and only position. “Then we no longer have a professional relationship. I’ll fax the termination of your representation tonight.”

    “Jo-Jack has given us good leads before.” Tigo put his truck into park and shut off the engine. Here in his home’s garage, he had a few moments, but he needed to cut Ryan’s call short. “The proof will be in what he brings in. He claims that Cheeky thinks he’s working against us. Hard to say.”
    “What are you going to do in the meantime?”
    “Play it from the office. Come up with a different disguise. Right now I think they’re looking for a cop. No point in wasting time thinking about what information they extracted from Candy.”
    “Extracted is a good way to put it.” Ryan’s voice held no humor. The Arroyos beheaded their last victim. Candy had been lucky.
    “I … I looked into the whereabouts of her kids. Living with another hooker. Foster care looks like the best option.”
    “You’re involved again.”
    “I owe Candy. Her kids meant a lot to her. You know me, I have priorities. I’ve contacted CPS to see about a good foster home. And I deposited the cash due her into an account to be used for her kids. Not sure my call did any good, but I tried. I have more than one reason to nail Cheeky.”
    “Tigo, none of us want your priorities to get you killed. You’d better change your MO before you venture into that snake pit again.”
    The comment irritated him, though he understood Ryan’s caution. “I know how to be careful.”

    Cheeky paced the floor of the bar, empty this time of day except for Froggie, his lead man. He swallowed a gulp of Buchanan’s that only fueled his fury. Two of his men were dead, key men whom he depended on. They had been stupid but fearless, and that’s what he needed to keep his organization on top and making money. Candy had already paid for her betrayal, now the
policía
responsible would pay with his blood. But Cheeky had to think his way through his next move, play out all the scenarios. What he did best.
    “The man who killed our men,” Cheeky said. “Do you have a name?”
    “Not yet. Word’s out.
Policía
, but I don’t know which one.”
    Cheeky had