Page 76 of Spock’s Snare

Stale cigar smoke hangs in the air, mixed with the bitter stench of burnt coffee that has probably been sitting in the pot since last night. The office is a mess. Blueprints cover a drafting table along one wall, many of them curling at the edges. Empty food containers overflow from a trash can, and invoices are piled across a battered metal desk. A hard hat hangs from the corner of a filing cabinet, while muddy work boots have been tossed underneath it.

The space isn’t large to begin with, but it gets a hell of a lot smaller as we crowd into it.

Elvis Monroe sits behind the desk with a cigar clenched between his fingers. He’s in his late fifties, with thinning gray hair and a gut that strains the buttons of his work shirt. His brows draw together as he looks from Dice to Rush and finally to me.

“What the hell is this?” He drops his cigar into an overflowing ashtray and rises. “You boys lost?”

“No,” Dice says. “We’re exactly where we need to be.”

Confusion flashes across Monroe’s face before it shifts into calculation. His shoulders relax, and a smile spreads across his mouth.

“Wait. Is this about Inferno Ridge?” He leans back against the desk. “You finally changed your mind about hiring my firm?”

My jaw tightens.

Monroe takes our silence as confirmation. “I knew that little girl couldn’t handle a job that size. Should’ve hired Sin City from the beginning instead of a pretty face with curves. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s nice to look at, but what does a bitch know about building homes?”

Rush’s arm shoots across my chest before I take my first step.

“Easy,” he mutters.

I glare at Monroe over his forearm.

Monroe doesn’t have the sense to shut his mouth.

“Women have no business running construction sites,” he continues. “They don’t understand the work, and the crews don’t respect them. That Davenport woman might look good bending over a set of plans, but that doesn’t mean she knows what she’s doing.”

Rage explodes through me.

I shove against Rush’s arm, but he plants his boots and holds his ground.

“Let me go,” I growl.

“And ruin our chance to question him?” Rush asks quietly. “No.”

Monroe’s smile falters when he sees the look on my face.

Dice steps forward, blocking my direct path to the bastard. “You should shut the fuck up now.”

Monroe straightens. “I’m just telling it like it is.”

“No, you’re proving you’ve got a problem with Chloe Davenport and DC Construction.” Dice rests his hands on the desk as he leans forward. “Which makes me wonder how far you’d go to make sure she fails.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Someone vandalized her equipment,” Dice says. “They destroyed materials and sabotaged her sites. They also attacked her father and left her a threatening message. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Monroe’s expression changes. It’s only there for a second, but I catch it. Not guilt exactly. More like alarm.

He glances toward the door.

“No,” he says. “Why would I?”

“Because you just told us you don’t think she belongs in the business,” I snap. “Maybe you decided to prove it.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Is it?” Dice asks. “Your company bid on Inferno Ridge. You lost the contract to DC Construction. Now someone’s trying to destroy her business.”