“So lemme get this straight,” Sharise said, talking to Prometheus on the phone. “You hire this bitch, make me work with her, and now you’re thinking she’s maybe doing shit?”
Prometheus knew it wasn’t a good idea to tell Sharise he thought Anne had possibly murdered Janet. Still, he needed her help.
“I think it’s a good idea we know a little more about her, is all,” Prometheus said. “She has a criminal record, after all.”
“BEEP, BEEP, BEEP,” Sharise yelled into the phone. “Oh, ‘scuse me, Prometheus. That loud obnoxious noise is the sound of my bullshit meter going off. ‘Cause you’re full of shit. You knew she had a criminal record before, and I know you didn’t do a deep dive into my background.”
“What would I have found?” Prometheus immediately regretted the question.
“People who would’ve told you I deserve to be more than some personal assistant. My mother could’ve told you that. My father. All my teachers. Everybody. That’s not the point, though. The point is, you’re hiding something from me.”
“I’ll tell you about it soon enough,” Prometheus said. “For now, can you help me find out about Anne?”
“Sure, you said you were at her college?” Sharise asked.
“Well get the fuck out of there, you’re being creepy.”
“Fair point.” Prometheus nodded his head and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot.
“Tomorrow we’ll try and look at her phone. That girl is always on her phone, so whatever you’re looking for is gonna be in there.”