I waited in the shadows of the street, eyes locked on him. “Where’s Mr. Otterton?” I asked. His smile deepened, eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re under arrest,” I said. He laughed, leaning against the lamppost. “For hurting your feelings?” I shook my head. “Tax evasion. Bribery. Fraud. Smuggling.” His eyes widened, staring at me in shock. His brows furrowed, he swallowed hard, and the playful grin vanished from his face.
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