Free The Big Sheep by Robert Kroese Page A

Glock about to slip out of my left hand. Brian, standing a few feet away, looked like he was about to make a move for the gun.
    â€œUh-uh,” I muttered, managing to get a slightly tighter grip on the gun. I don’t think I could have pulled the trigger if I tried, but evidently I appeared threatening enough to make Brian rethink his plans. I took a deep breath and shifted the gun to my right hand. My head still felt like a bass drum at the Rose Bowl parade, but feeling was coming back into my fingers. Brian must have made the right choice—and just in time, too. I didn’t remember turning around or sliding down the wall, but some part of my brain must have been functioning well enough to keep the gun pointed more or less in Brian’s direction.
    â€œThat,” I said with as much bravado as I could muster, “is why Keane keeps me around.”
    Durham glared at me a moment and then broke into a laugh. “Well done, Mr. Fowler. I guess you do earn your keep after all.”
    Keane finished his drink and turned to face Durham. “Now how about you tell us what’s going on with Priya.”
    â€œPut down the gun, and I’ll tell you what I know,” said Durham.
    â€œNice try,” I said.
    â€œYou’ve made your point, Mr. Fowler,” said Durham, with a touch of irritation. “You’re not going to murder me in my own home. Drop the gun, and we’ll talk things over. I have nothing to hide.”
    â€œI’ll give Brian his gun when I get mine,” I said. I got to my feet, still pointing the Glock at him, while doing my best to ignore the sheet-metal-stamping plant operating in my skull.
    Durham nodded at Brian, and he turned and walked to a portrait that hung on the wall. I recognized the subject as Selah Fiore, the ex-actress who was currently the CEO of Flagship Media. The picture was from her glory days, some thirty years ago, when she was still quite the looker. Brian removed the portrait, tapped a combination on a wall safe, and opened the door. He picked up the gun and handed it to me, handle first. I returned the favor. I waited for him to holster his gun before I did the same.
    â€œAll right,” said Keane. “Tell us what you know about Priya.”
    Durham shrugged. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
    â€œBullshit,” I growled. “The girl is scared out of her mind. You parade her in front of strangers at parties like she’s some kind of prize animal. Meanwhile, you’ve got men standing by with syringes, for Christ’s sake.”
    Durham sighed. “What’s going on with Priya is that she’s a frightened little girl who became famous way too fast. I don’t ‘parade’ her in front of strangers; I invite her to parties, and I encourage her to attend because it’s good for her to meet people away from the set. And yes, I have people looking out for her safety. Occasionally she has panic attacks, and sedatives help calm her down. Her personal physician recommended these measures.”
    â€œWho does this physician work for?” I asked. “Flagship Media?”
    â€œWho do you work for?” said Durham.
    â€œWe’re asking the questions, remember?” I said.
    â€œWe have Priya’s best interests at heart,” said Keane. “If you really are looking out for her, we’ve got no quarrel with you.”
    â€œI’ll tell you what,” said Durham. “Come down to the set tomorrow. Observe Priya all you want. Talk to whoever you like. If Priya hired you, then clearly she doesn’t trust me. Maybe if you poke around for a while and don’t find anything, it will help her state of mind. I doubt it, but it’s worth a shot.”
    â€œYou’re inviting us to the DiZzy Girl set?” I asked.
    â€œYou’ll be my personal guests,” Durham replied. “But let me make something clear. You’ll have an escort. You will not