Grim sat at the head with two of his crew at his back, a short, tatted white guy with a barrel chest and a tall, willowy Black woman with bloodred nails.
Lina waved to the woman and she nodded back.
Knox and Lucian were seated across the table on Grim’s left. I claimed the seat to his right and pulled out the chair next to me for Lina.
“Let’s get this over with. Don’t much care for cops in my house,” Grim announced.
“It’s not exactly a picnic for me either,” I said.
Knox rolled his eyes and Lina kicked me under the table.
I gave her thigh a warning squeeze.
“What Nash means to say is he appreciates you sharing this information,” Lina said pointedly.
Grim grunted.
“What have you got?” I asked in a marginally more polite tone.
“My club has had an interest in Duncan Hugo’s operations since his split from the family business. We keep our ears to the ground and keep our eyes on wild cards like that little prick,” Grim began.
“Especially after he decided to set up a chop shop in your territory,” Knox pointed out.
Hugo’s original shop had been raided. He’d set up another in the warehouse where Naomi and Waylay had been taken and terrorized. Grim had been the one to alert Knox to where they were being held.
That combined with the fact that Lina was unharmed were the only two reasons my fist hadn’t met the man’s face.
“That was a factor,” Grim admitted. “Our interest remained even after he disappeared. And when a certain persistent insurance investigator made it clear she wanted to chat about Hugo, our interest deepened and we started listening to the whispers.”
I didn’t have the patience for this tap dance. “What whispers?”
Grim put his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “The official word on the street is that Duncan Hugo left town immediately after the shit that went down and bought a one-way ticket to Mexico.”
“What’s the unofficial word?” Lucian spoke for the first time.
“He never left. He went to ground and started thinking.”
“That would be a real stupid move on his part,” Knox said.
“The feds are still looking for him. I’ve got a U.S. marshal up my ass, and Hugo decides to stick around?” I prompted. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It does if he’s planning to move on the family business,” Grim said.
Lucian and Knox exchanged glances.
Lina’s hand found mine on her leg and squeezed.
“You’re talking about an organized crime war. You can’t raise an army without someone running their mouth. No one makes moves that quiet,” I said.
“Not necessarily,” Lina cut in. All eyes went to her. “All Duncan needs to do is sit tight until the feds move on his father. He doesn’t need an army for that. Just a few loyal soldiers to ease the organization through the transition of power.”
Fuck.
“Do the feds know about this?” I asked.
“According to my sources, they’ve been receiving anonymous information that’s helping build their case against Anthony Hugo,” Lucian said.
I didn’t want to think about how Lucian had sources in the FBI.
“That information could be coming directly from Duncan,” Lina pointed out.
“Fuck.” My brother combed a hand through his beard. “So he feeds the feds info on Daddy’s operation, and when they lock him up, Duncan steps into Daddy’s shoes?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“Why wouldn’t the feds just move on both assholes?” Knox asked.
“Anthony Hugo has been running a criminal empire for decades. His son is small change by comparison,” Grim pointed out.
“He tried to kill my brother,” Knox barked.
“The feds cut deals all the time to get what they want. They’ve had a hard-on for Hugo Senior for years. They’re not gonna waste resources on a small-time car thief, especially not if he’s a valuable enough asset to them,” Grim said.
“So what the hell am I supposed to do with this information?” I demanded.
“You’re supposed to watch your fuckin’ back,” Grim said. “If Duncan Hugo decides he wants to step in as head of the family, all he has to do is clean up a few loose ends.”
Lina’s leg tensed under my grip.
“And those would be?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Grim looked at me. “You.” Then he shifted his gaze to my brother. “And your girls.”
Knox growled.
“Awful hard to build a case if none of the witnesses can talk,” Grim said ominously.
THIRTY-THREE
BOOK OR TREAT
Lina
Me: How’s my favorite researcher in the world?
Zelda: Leave me alone unless you have anything else on Burner Phone Guy.
Me: I take it you haven’t found him yet?
Zelda: Even my superpowers have limits. Without Hugo’s burner phone records or a name or at least a description, I’ve got a whole lot of jack bubkes.
Me: Define jack bubkes.
Zelda: I have a list of 1,217 people （856 of them are men） affiliated with this guy either through family, school, sports, or miscellaneous. That includes neighbors from every address I’ve found for him, neighborhood liquor store clerks, his father’s employees （both incarcerated and not）， mail carriers, etc. Unless you have a way of narrowing it down, we’re shit out of luck.
Zelda: Any luck on getting your hands on the crime scene report? Maybe there’s something in there that’ll help.
Me: No. Nash is MIA since yesterday’s visit to Biker World. And now I have to go dress up like Nancy Drew.
Zelda: I have so many questions.
The library’s annual Book or Treat event turned out to be an excuse for Knockemout to gather for Halloween-themed snacks and drinks without the chaos of trick-or-treating, which would be here soon enough.
Every October, the street in front of the library closed to traffic for one night to make room for a band, dance floor, food trucks, and, of course, a mobile bar. Library patrons bought tickets to the party, business sponsors badgered by Sloane donated the food and drinks, and the library kept the profits.
Unfortunately for me, the scents of freshly popped pumpkin spice popcorn and hard cider weren’t helping me forget how annoyed I was. Not only had Nash bailed on dinner the night before, he’d failed to deliver anything from the crime scene report.
He also hadn’t called, texted, or even knocked on my door to demand another sleepover. Which I absolutely would have said no to.
According to the Knockemout grapevine, he, Knox, Nolan, and Lucian had holed up in Knox’s secret lair office.
This was monumental because, to date, the only person Knox had ever allowed to enter such hallowed grounds was Naomi.
Of course, the grapevine also had theories about why the four unlikely amigos were on lockdown. These included the secret disposal of a body, a twenty-four-hour high-stakes poker game, or—my personal favorite—Knox had finally pissed Naomi off over floral arrangements and now he was waiting out her wrath.
But I was pretty sure I knew the truth. The menfolk were strategizing, and they’d left me out of it.
Okay, yes. I preferred to do things on my own. And yes, I didn’t love being part of a team. But I was already involved. I was the only one running an active investigation. And those four macho shitheads still didn’t think to include me.