LITMIR.BIZ

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him.

      She wouldn’t be the first. Tommy, one of his former patients, held that tragic honor.

      “You need to bring her back down.”

      “To AC?” That wasn’t going to happen. Greg was never going back there. Ever. Chuck could go with her if she needed someone to take her.

      “Yes. It’s their case now. I let the detective know we found her and where she was staying. He’s okay if you want to bring her down tomorrow. If she doesn’t come willingly, he’ll issue a warrant for her arrest and have the Philadelphia P.D. pick her up.”

      “She’ll come down, though I’m not sure how useful the questioning will be.”

      “How useful does it have to be? She knew D’Amato. D’Amato was plugged in the face. She was covered with blood and found walking down a road twenty miles outside of Atlantic City. Seems pretty clear to me that she knows something about it.”

      Damn it. It did to Greg, too. “Okay. We’ll have her there in the morning.”

      “Thanks. And, Chalmers, I would appreciate if you don’t give her a heads-up about what will go down tomorrow. The ACPD deserve to be able to question her without advance warning, if you know what I mean. I can remind you, since we called you in, that you are a consultant to the police force...”

      “You don’t have to. I’ve got the message.”

      Greg ended the call and stared at the phone in his hand. D’Amato...really? He didn’t see it. There was something in her face that was too open. Too unguarded to have survived being associated with him. Of course, that was assuming the rumors about his criminal behavior were true. To date no one had proved anything. Was she playing him? Had it all been a perfectly executed performance? A way to set up her defense when she was brought to trial? Hysterical amnesia. Greg wasn’t sure how that would help if the evidence of her guilt was compelling enough. He should cut his losses now. Call the PPD, have them pick her up and hold her overnight. They could transport her to AC in the morning and the most he would have to do was give his testimony, if it even went that far.

      So why was he hesitating? Simply put, he didn’t think she was lying. There was nothing in her actions, words or expressions that suggested she was playing a game. No physical signs that her amnesia was anything but real.

      If he was being played, then it was because she was a master. And if he was being played by a master, he intended to beat her at her own game. Greg had been wrong once, but since then he’d rededicated himself to perfection.

      But if he wasn’t being played, then the woman who just taught Chuck how to eat pasta with a spoon might need his help.

      He wasn’t sure what was worse. Keeping her with him so he could study her, or keeping her with him because he wanted to be some kind of hero. Greg didn’t do hero. Not anymore.

      Speaking of heroes, an antihero type came to mind. Someone who might be able to unravel the mystery of Eliza Dunning’s past. Interesting that Dunning wasn’t an Italian name after his original assumptions about her and her presumed connection to D’Amato. Of course it would be stereotypical to assume that anyone affiliated with the mob had to be of Italian heritage. The organization was so much more inclusive these days. All they cared about now was having hardened criminals willing to do bad things. Greg knew enough about D’Amato to know even he wasn’t fully Italian. His mother had been Puerto Rican.

      Greg hit his contact list and tapped a name. He waited until Mark answered.

      “Yo.”

      “I need a favor.”

      “Awesome. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

      “Why?”

      “Ever since you helped JoJo deal with her past I feel like I’ve owed you. I hate owing people.”

      “Wouldn’t it be JoJo who owes me since she was the one I helped?”

      “She already paid you back today by vouching for your character. Which, had I known, I would have advised her against, if only to make it more difficult for you. I can only assume you’re calling about the same woman? We’ve been waiting to hear this story. Anyway, JoJo’s debt is my debt, too. It’s a married kind of a thing you wouldn’t understand.”

      “Oh, really. And you’ve been married for what, three weeks?”

      “Three amazing weeks...hey, is that it? Are you ready to follow in my footsteps? Do you need me to do a background check on your Match.com date?”

      “I so wish I had called JoJo right now.”

      “She would have told me, anyway. Fess up. What’s going on?”

      “I need you to find anything you can about an Eliza Dunning and Hector D’Amato.”

      “I know D’Amato by reputation. He owns The Grande in Atlantic City. Rumors are he’s connected.”

      “Was connected. He’s dead.”

      “Holy shit. Are you telling me the woman staying with you is involved?”

      “Up to her eyeballs. Eliza Dunning. Everything you can find out about her, her past and any connection she had to D’Amato, as fast as you can get it to me.”

      “Do I need to be worried about you and Chuck being alone with a woman who may potentially be dangerous?”

      “Do you really think Chuck and I can’t handle a woman?”

      “Is she hot?”

      Freaking Mark. He should have called JoJo.

      “Your hesitation assures me she is. Which means that Chuck definitely can’t handle her. You, maybe not, depending on how much she needs you. Does she need you, Greg? Because you strike me as the type to be helpless against a woman in need.”

      Greg had to swallow his first answer for something less inflammatory.

      “It doesn’t matter if she does or not,” Greg said, trying to sound blasé when he felt anything but. “I’m not in the business of helping people anymore, remember? Hardened cynic, lie detector. That’s all I’m good for these days.”

      “Yeah, I wish I could believe that—I would be less worried about you and the damsel in distress. I’ll get to work. I trust you and Chuck can hold it together for...how long?”

      “She has to go in for questioning tomorrow. ACPD wants to talk to her.”

      “You going with her?”

      “Probably not.” Definitely not. But he didn’t want Mark to know that the idea of returning to Atlantic City sent him into a near panic.

      “Do you care enough to make sure she has a lawyer?”

      Greg winced. “Hell, I would care enough about you having a lawyer if you were going to be questioned by the ACPD. They’re not exactly warm and fuzzy with murder suspects down there.”

      “Can you blame them?” Mark asked. “How would you like to be a cop in a city of vice? You should call Elaine.” Mark disconnected the call and Greg considered his advice. He was already there.

      Elaine was going to be his next call. Elaine Saunders worked for the Tyler Group on a contractual basis, helping out when Ben needed legal assistance. However, she also ran an independent practice for criminal cases. With the money she made working for Ben, she could afford to take only the cases that struck her fancy.

      Elaine was a crusader who believed more in fighting for justice for the innocent, than making sure the guilty had access to legal representation. If she looked at this case on the surface, he couldn’t see her jumping on it. The amnesia would make her skeptical.

      That was the problem with amnesia. It was an easy thing to lie about, because it couldn’t be medically determined, so no one ever believed it was real.

      Greg attributed

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