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  Twisted Interest

  Margot Harris Book 7

  Nora Kane

  Twisted Interest by Nora Kane Copyright © 2021 by Nora Kane.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission. This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to real people or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Books by Nora Kane

  1. Secrets of Woodcrest Manor

  2. Wolverine Harbor Novellas Series

  Book 1 - The Veil of Deceit

  Book 2 - The Veil of Envy

  Book 3 - The Veil of Vengeance

  3. Emmy Grimm Series

  Book 1 - Lured

  Book 2 - Chased

  Book 3 - Blindsided

  4. Margot Harris Series

  Book 1 - Shadow of Greed

  Book 2 - Shadow of Pretense

  Book 3 - Shadow of Suspicion

  Book 4 - Shadow of Betrayal

  Book 5 - Shadow of Misgivings

  Book 6 - Twisted Game

  Book 7 - Twisted Interest

  Book 8 - Twisted Hopes

  Book 9 - Twisted Judgment

  Book 10 - Twisted Redemption

  FREE GIFT!

  Claim Your Free Copy of My Book Secrets of Woodcrest Manor.

  This book is not available anywhere else, exclusive for subscribers of Nora Kane’s Newsletter.

  When the Patriarch of the Woodcrest Family was found dead in the flowerbed under his bedroom window, the local police department called it suicide. His son hired Private detective Emmy wanting to uncover the real truth behind his father's death. Surrounded by so many individuals who could benefit from his death, now the responsibility is on Emmy to figure out who was responsible. When Emmy starts to talk to the heirs the Woodcrest family's secrets begin to emerge.

  Table of Content

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Books by Nora Kane

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  “How’s my favorite victim of police brutality doing?”

  Lucas sat up as best he could in his hospital bed and gave Heller a little head nod before he replied, pointing to his groin, “I’ll be better when they take this tube out of my “you know what” and let me out of here. I miss the regular hospital.”

  “Least you ain’t handcuffed to the bed in here.”

  “Not like it makes any difference. Even if I could get up and walk, where would I go?”

  “I hear you on that. Jail sucks, but trust me, prison is worse.”

  “No shit. They got you sweeping the floors now?”

  “Yeah, but I can’t complain. No tube in my dick.”

  Heller moved on, going through the motions like he was actually cleaning something.

  Lucas looked up at the box-shaped television mounted on the wall in front of him. The thing looked older than him. He missed the television at the regular hospital; having a flat screen and some decent channels when you're stuck in bed all day and all night made being handcuffed to the bed worth it.

  The nurse walked in and announced, “Good, you’re awake. You’ve got visitors.” He left as quickly as he’d arrived, probably going off shift—unlike Lucas and Heller, he got to go home at night. Lucas didn’t get a chance to ask who his visitors were, but he didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  The two detectives came into the room. Anderson, the younger and fatter of the two, was first in. He leaned against the rail at the foot of the bed and made sure his big body was blocking the television.

  “What are you two doing here? This ain’t your kind of case,” Lucas remarked.

  “We’re organized crime. You work for Harry Lee. This is our case.”

  “Then you wasted your time. I’ve got nothing but nice things to say about Harry Lee. You all need to quit harassing him. He’s just a misunderstood businessman.”

  “Whose driver went all horror movie on two people.”

  “Did I?”

  “If you didn’t, who did?”

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told everybody else. You want to know who killed that white boy and his bitch, I need to be doing my recovery on the outside.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Anderson said.

  “You shot at a cop,” Cranston added, “even if you’re cleaner than virgin snow, you aren’t walking away on that.”

  “Sure, but then I got shot like six times in the back. They tell me I may never be able to pee right and shit. I think I’ve suffered enough.”

  “You’re the only one who thinks so.”

  “Until you all start being a bit more sympathetic, I guess the murder is going to remain unsolved.”

  “We’ve got you.”

  “Nah, you don’t and you know it. That razor don’t mean shit, I’m surprised you haven’t thrown Phoebe’s nice ass back in here.”

  “Keep her name out of your mouth,” Anderson said.

  “Damn,” Lucas replied, managing a smile, “You sound like you’re sweet on her or something.”

  “Just watch your mouth, punk.”

  “Her name might be in my mouth a lot after you get the charges dropped.”

  “Are you saying Phoebe did it?” Cranston asked, drawing a look from his partner.

  “Nah, like I said, as long as I’m in here, the murder case stays unsolved.”

  “How do we know you even know shit? I told you, give us something, and if it checks out…”

  “—I look like some punk? I know how you cops play people. Get me out and I serve up the perpetrator of the Masterson Hot Tub Massacre on a tray like you just got some McDonalds or something.”

  “You know, the longer you hold out, the more likely somebody solves this thing without you and then you get nothing for sure,” Anderson said.

  Lucas tried to laugh, but it hurt, so he stopped and then told them, “I don’t think I have to worry about that.”

  “Think about it, Lucas. This here might be your best chance to get yourself out of this mess.”

  “You heard the terms. Come back when you meet them.”

  “Your loss, Lucas.”

  “Next time, let me know you’re coming so I can call my lawyer.”

  “You mean Harry Lee’s lawyer,” Anderson corrected him. “You know he’s just here to make sure you don’t talk about your boss when you’re trying to make a deal.”

  “Lucky for me, I know enough I don’t need to say shit about Harry to walk away from this shit.”

  “You’d better hope so. I don’t think prison will be easy for a guy like you,” Cranston told him.

  “What do you mean ‘a guy like me’?”

  “A guy who was getting his ass kicked by a girl the last time he was breathing free air,” Anderson said.

  “Yeah, well, I bet she’d kick your fat ass too.”

  “Maybe, but I’m not the one going to prison.”

  Lucas didn’t have a good reply to that so instead, he said, “I think I want my lawyer.”

  “Suit yourself,” A
nderson told him. “We’ll be seeing you, Lucas.”

  Lucas watched the detectives leave and went back to trying to find something on television. He was flipping through the channels when the door opened again.

  He looked over and said, “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. You forget something?”

  “Yeah,” the man said as he held up the hand holding a sharpened metal spoon, “I forgot to stab your sorry ass to death.”

  Lucas tried to reach the call button but he was too slow. The sharp spoon was jammed through his neck before he could pick up the call button. His jugular vein was severed and blood began to spray. It wasn’t long before a spoon did what bullets couldn’t.

  Chapter 1

  “Mind if I sit?”

  Margot scanned the mostly empty Layla’s West barroom and then looked Harry Lee over. As agreed, it appeared he had come alone. He was dressed in his usual dark suit, white shirt, and dark tie. He could have a gun under his coat, but there were no telltale bulges. In his hands were two drinks including a whiskey on ice.

  Margot was sitting with her back against the wall with her short-barreled S&W sitting on her lap. Her boyfriend, homicide detective Rick Radcliff, was sitting at the bar, watching the proceedings in the mirror.

  Margot motioned to the empty chair across from her and Harry sat down.

  “I bought Mr. Radcliff a drink as well,” Harry told her, sliding the glass of whiskey across the table.

  “Thanks,” Margot said as she took a sip.

  “Did I get it right?”

  “Yeah, you did. How did you know what I like to drink?”

  “I know a lot of things about you, Margot.”

  She let that go and asked, “What can I do for you, Harry?”

  “I thought you stopped meeting clients here when you started working for Shaw.”

  “You’re not a client.”

  “Not yet, anyway.”

  “You want to hire me?”

  “I do.”

  “No thanks.”

  “You haven’t even heard the job.”

  “I don’t need to.”

  “You’ve worked for misunderstood businessmen before, Margot. I’m feeling a little insulted.”

  “You’re right, Harry, there was a time when I couldn’t afford to be so picky, but that’s not really the case right now.”

  “I assume you heard about poor Lucas?”

  “I did.”

  “Poor kid survives getting shot by the cops and then gets stabbed to death in lockup. What a shame.”

  “Worked out pretty well for you though, didn’t it?”

  “How so?”

  “He ran his mouth, a lot. He would have got around to talking about you eventually.”

  Harry couldn’t disagree with that entirely, so he said, “I want to know who killed Lucas.”

  “That’s what you want to hire me for?”

  “Yes.”

  “Investigating homicides isn’t really my job.”

  “Nonsense, it’s what you're best at. Photographing cheating husbands leaving the scene of their ‘crime’ is beneath you.”

  “Spoken like a cheating husband.”

  “Someone has to do it.”

  “Has to do what? Cheat?”

  “No, look into Lucas’s murder. Ask your boyfriend, he’ll tell you they’ve already assumed I ordered it.”

  “So, this is as much about protecting you as it is justice for Lucas.”

  “I’m not going to pretend to be that altruistic. I’m protecting my own interests here. I wouldn’t be the only one protecting my self-interest. He did finger you for planting evidence and he did point out the bloody dress fit you better than him.”

  “Is that when he was talking about my boobs?”

  “Yes, and he was right. You have much better boobs than he did.”

  Margot decided not to dignify that with a response.

  “With the exception of the young man sitting at the bar, I know the police, especially the homicide ones, don’t think highly of you, Margot. They’ll be coming to see you soon enough. Work for me, Margot, and you can serve your own self-interest while getting paid for it.”

  Before Margot could answer, two men in cheap suits came through the door. Margot recognized one of them, Anderson, from her days as a cop. Even before her career went awry they never liked each other. They’d come up in the academy together and he never got over the time she shot down a drunken advance. His partner was an old school guy named Cranston who people were saying was two years past when he should have retired when Margot was still on the force. Harry recognized them too. They were part of an organized crime taskforce and Harry was a frequent target of their investigations.

  “Fancy running into you two here,” Anderson said as he walked up to the table and sat down. Cranston didn’t move very fast so he was still on his way over.

  “Did you invite this man to join us?” Harry asked Margot.

  “I certainly did not.”

  “Aw come on, Margot, you and I go way back,” Anderson said.

  “All the more reason not to invite you to sit down, but since you’re here, I’m thinking I’ll be leaving,” Margot said as she stood up.

  “I was thinking the same thing, only we’re going to be leaving together.”

  Cranston finally finished lumbering over to the table. He stepped in Margot’s path.

  “What do you want?” Margot asked.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Then talk.”

  “I’d prefer you come with us.”

  “Too bad for you, I don’t give a damn about what you prefer.”

  “What’s this about?” Radcliff said as he approached the table.

  “Sit down, choirboy,” Anderson said, “this doesn’t concern you.”

  “Let’s make it easy and just arrest her,” Cranston added.

  “Easiest thing would be for her to come down and cooperate,” Anderson said.

  “What am I being arrested for?” Margot asked.

  “We’ll think of something. I mean, you are here consorting with a known criminal.”

  “Come on, Harris,” Cranston said, “come on down and we can clear all this up.”

  “Clear what up?”

  “The mess with Cassandra Cole you’ve got yourself into.”

  “You mean the goth chick with the YouTube channel?”

  “The one and the same, Harris, or should I call you ‘Viuda Negra’?”

  “Is she still trotting out that nonsense?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I quit listening a while ago. What exactly did Cassandra do that has you two here bothering me?”