Chapter Eight
Callan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He’d insisted on giving Daniel a break from driving, even though he was tired himself. He’d barely slept last night. They’d made it back to the hotel way past midnight and the morning didn’t bring good news.
After visiting Shelly, they’d dropped in at Mr Minh’s. He hadn’t added much to what they already knew about Ken Macalister. His old PI office now belonged to a messenger company, all legitimate.
Mr Minh said Macalister had destroyed his files.
Callan’s phone pinged, drawing him out of his thoughts. He peeked at it while at a red light.
More bad news.
Callan huffed. ‘Ms M’s got an alibi. She spoke at a week-long conference in York – 250 attendees.’
The light switched to green. He hit the accelerator with as much ferv
