Chapter 10
“You see,” he continued after a telling pause for dramatic effect, “I’m interested in something you have that belongs to me.”
I frowned, completely lost. He answered with a grin, then motioned at Split-Face to stay back and sit down on the sofa.
“Please, have a seat.” He gestured at two armchairs awkwardly sitting cattycorner to the desk, one on each side.
“I’d rather stand,” I said, still frowning.
“Sit,” he insisted.
“Fine.” I perched myself on the edge of the brothel-red chair. Crowley took the one across from me and slid off the bat into a cool, comfortable position, ankle on knee, elbows on armrest, fingers linked loosely over his stomach.
The man kept ignoring him and fixed his gaze on me.
“I’m a businessman,” he said. “The bottom line is important to me. Still, as
