CHAPTER 8
AN HOUR LATER and I’d been fingerprinted and thrown in a cell. The fingerprinting pissed me off most. Being locked up felt oddly like coming home.
On my previous visits, I’d always managed to keep my prints out of the system. The cops wouldn’t be able to connect me to any of the mayhem I’d created in the past, but to break my winning streak over something so trivial as a wallet was embarrassing.
I’d seen my file, my blessedly thin file, which had been distributed to everyone from the FBI to Interpol. Last time I checked, they’d pinned seventeen kills on me, which fell far short of my actual total, and six of the ones they’d attributed weren’t even mine. If I had to guess, I’d say two of them were carried out by my biggest rival, Valkyrie, and I knew they’d given her the Canadi
