Sounds like a plan. Ready for me to beat your ass at pool?
Me
You can try
Pipes
Later
Pipes and his ol’ lady Casey have been going strong for a while now. She’s a paramedic and a damn good one. Casey has helped the club out in the unfortunate event that somebody needs medical attention, let’s just say sometimes that’s often when shit goes down.
I have to duck out quickly to run a few errands and when I get back, Nova isn’t at her desk, but my coffee and two cinnamon rolls are sitting on mine. She is the sweetest. There’s a love heart written in pink pen next to my name in black. I’m gonna take a lone guess that it was her, and not the barista. Somehow, it tastes that much sweeter knowing she did that with her signature pink pen.
I spend the rest of the day knocking out jobs and looking into Bobby James Foster. First, I check his social media and find that he hasn’t posted anything in over two years. I also check the public records to see if anything has shown up there lately, as well as running his name through a couple of my databases. I’ll feel better once I know if this fucker is dead or living. Ifhe’s living, then I’m certain eventually I’ll track him down. It’s a challenge I’m willing to accept.
I get a ping on the Michigan State Department of Corrections website. Son of a fucking bitch. How did we miss this? I figured after all the rumors about him when Nova first showed up here, the fucker had ended up in a ditch somewhere. He’d literally dropped off the face of the earth. Nova said he had ties to some pretty shady drug dealers, so maybe they’d dealt with him.
But no. Bobby fuckface Foster was in jail. I check the records for his release date — the motherfucker is still in there. I check the Bureau of Prisons in Detroit to see if there’s a release date, but it comes up blank. Not all parole dates are public record, so I’m gonna have to check the prison records in a little more detail. By ‘check’ I meanhack.If he were registered for inmate tracking, I’d find him immediately, but since he’s still in jail... I dig a little deeper and find out he was arrested for violating his parole. Bobby was found with a pipe and a decent amount of crack. Not enough to get a life sentence, but enough to get you charged with possession and intent to sell. He’s serving two years.
I pick up the phone to buzz Brew on the intercom, but his phone rings out, a few moments later, Haze is in the doorway. “You good?”
“I am now; Bobby’s in jail.”
“What the fuck?”
“Got two years for possession and intent to sell, tryin’ to find out when his release date is.”
Haze shakes his head, folding his arms over his chest. “How did that slip by us?”
“Public records state he changed his name from Reynolds to Foster. Mother’s maiden name, maybe he’s got mommy issues? He’s fuckin’ slippery.”
“Or he’s avoidin’ people who want him dead. Like us.”
I crack my knuckles. “Either way, he’s a dead man. I’ll have his release date in a jiffy.”
Haze nods. “Good work. Might help Nova with her paranoia.”
I’m not so sure about that, but there were some creeps in that bar. It’s likely it was just some dude trying his luck. It’ll make her feel better, anyway, and right now? Both of us could do with some good news.
CHAPTER
SIX
Nova
“Okay, what did you do to Sawyer, and why has he been staring at you all night?” Manny all but bellows, making Deanna, Cash’s ol’ lady, and her best friend Summer look over toward him at the pool table.
Great, and we have a foghorn. I decide it best to play it off as a joke. “What can I say? I’m a work of art.”
The girls snicker, but Manny is like a bloodhound when it comes to matchmaking. Out of everyone in the club, he’s the most gossip worthy, but also the most trustworthy.
“Hmm. Are you sure it’s not for the age-old reason?” He quirks, wiggling his eyebrows.
I play dumb. “And what reason would that be?”
“You two hang out an awful lot,” Deanna puts in. “And yet you’ve never had sex.”
She’s not assuming anything because it’s all true. “Well, sometimes it isn’t always about that, it’s the connection.”