“Nothing?” he said. “That could have been the problem. Ledger was tired of not being heard, confronted Charity at her big party, and things got physical enough for her to end up dead.”
Clay paused halfway through the complaints as something clicked with him. He flicked back and ran his finger down the page.
“Or,” he said, “Ledger found some new information. Grannick was one of Fisher’s men, right?”
Ezra sat forward, interested.
“Sort of,” he said. “His father is one of Fisher’s accountants. I’d guess it was a favor to get the kid off. Although I wouldn’t have thought Grannick was important enough to merit the whole snitch conspiracy.”
“What about Nesmith?” Clay asked.
He ripped one of the sheets loose, pushed it over the desk, and tapped his finger on the page.
Hal Nesmith, two years as an accessory after the fact.
“What do you want to bet that everyone on that snitch list was one of Fisher’s men? It was a jailbreak. A legal one.”
Ezra gestured for Clay to hand the list back. He glanced through it, his eyes flicking from side to side as he scanned for names. Then he shook his head.
“There’s a couple, but Fisher’s a big fish. Hard to be a professional criminal around here without doing a few jobs for him.”
Clay folded his hands over his stomach. “It explains why she didn’t call Fisher,” he said. “If Ledger had the proof of something like that, she’d turn Charity from an asset into a liability.”
Ezra picked the whiskey glass up and tossed it back.
“That happens,” he said. “Kind of like your cleaner once Fisher got him in his sights.”
Clay dropped his feet off the desk and stood up. “Don’t tell me we broke up?” he said. “And I thought we were in it for the long haul.”
The dregs of whisky sloshed against the side of the glass as Ezra toasted Clay. “Just getting your cock out of the clouds and back to reality,” he said. “Don’t convince yourself that he means more to you than he does. Because keeping Fisher on our side, that means a lot.”
Clay braced his hands on the edge of the desk and leaned forward.
“And what if I decide Grade means more?” he asked.
Ezra looked pained and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and finger. “Warn me in advance,” he said as he tilted his head back against his chair. “I can let the next person who comes for me just finish the job.”
***
Clay ordered a coffee.
He figured it would counterbalance the beer he’d had before he left the Slap. The barista tried to upsell him on a Costa Rican blend with “notes of rosemary and wheat.” He gave her a look over the counter.
“I asked for five shots of vanilla syrup and two hazelnut,” Clay said. “Do you really think I’ll be able to taste ‘wheat’?”
The barista checked his order and nodded. “Fair point, I guess,” she said. “I had to ask.”
She made the coffee, handed it over, and Clay headed over to join Grade at the table by the window.
“Laptop?” he asked.
“I shipped it off to a hacker I know,” Grade said. “They’re going to rebuild some of it before they can access the hard drive. I wasn’t expecting to need it again, so I didn’t try to protect it.”
“Anything will help,” Clay said. “Once you get it up and running, it shouldn’t be hard to find what we need. Based on Ledger’s behavior, the files are only going to be a couple of weeks old.”
“I’ll let them know,” Grade said.
Clay reached over the table and cupped Grade’s face in his hand. He turned it to the side and scowled as he saw the fresh marks. There was a scratch high on his cheekbone, deep enough that it would linger for a while, and his split lip had fresh blood on it.
