I gave him the address and Internet provider and told him to hack into the security system.
Ash: Maybe you didn’t look hard enough, pretty boy.
Jake: Digging into it now. Ash—STFU.
I pocketed my phone and looked back at Joey, noting the line of sweat that had manifested across his brow, the way his hand was shaking as he tried to log into his computer, and if I looked under the desk, I would find an anxiety-induced bouncing knee.
“I’m pulling up the security feed from yesterday,” Joey announced.
That wasn’t necessary, but I appreciated it.
He turned the screen toward me and pressed play. My jaw tightened at Gordon’s body language as he swaggered into the bar as if he owned it. He scanned the empty space, and when Joey appeared a second later, wiping his hands with a dish cloth, Gordon’s steps halted. Not deliberate, but in surprise. There was no audio, but I didn’t need any to see that Joey was terrified.
“He didn’t expect you to be here,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.
“No, he didn’t.” He sighed, running a hand through his thin hair. “He asked me what I was doing here, and I lied to him.”
“Do you have cameras for the parking lot?”
He nodded, bringing up another feed. Then the cursor snapped up to the top of the screen. Joey raised his hands, looking down at his keyboard and mouse in horror. “What the fuck?”
“My tech guy is taking over,” I told him calmly. Joey blinked up at me. “We need to analyze these videos,” I clarified.
“Who the fuck are you people?”
I pulled out a business card, stepped up, and handed it to him. “Red Snake Investigations.”
Once my back was against the door, he said, “You can take a seat, you know.”
I shook my head once. “I need to make sure no one tries to come in.” His silence was deafening. “To protect Margo, I need to know everything. It would be best if you started talking now. She asked me to be nice to you.”
“And this is you being nice?” he quipped. “Having someone I don’t know hack into my computer?”
“Yes.”
“What if he hacks into my damn bank account?”
“He doesn’t need or want your money.”
“I—”
“Joey. Talk. Now.” My command was swift, leaving no more room for argument.
Over the next few minutes, I listened patiently as Joey told me about the few run-ins he’d had with Gordon during his gambling days, the underground poker club in Portland, the fighter rings that Gordon ran, and the drugs that came from Seattle.
“Does he run Nightwalker?” I asked, pushing off the door.
“Nightwalker? Not when I knew him. He was just dealing heroin, LSD, weed, and cocaine back then. Nightwalker is a nasty fucking drug. I wouldn’t let anyone touch that shit.”
“So you know about it?” I pressed, putting my hands on the back of the chair across from him.
“Yeah, there was a fisherman who used to get into that shit,” he explained, his voice sad. “His name was Lucas. His old man and mine used to be good buds. Lucas could never keep his fishing business alive, though. He disappeared last year, took off on his boat and got lost at sea. At least that’s what the rumor is.”
Lucas didn’t get lost at sea.
Grayson put a bullet through his head and Dominic dumped his body twenty miles from the shore.
But that was old news.