I shrug. “Just throwing stones at your shiny glass house, man. How’s it feel in there?”
“Oh, go fuck yourself.” He flips me off.
“I would, but I’d rather see if Quinn’s around and?—”
“Wait, go back.” Colt snaps.
Poe rewinds in small steps, pausing each time. “What are you seeing?”
“Can you do anything to clear that up?”
Poe messes with the settings. “I can adjust the contrast and upscale a bit. I can’t make something out of nothing, but sacrificing definition in certain areas can make other details jump out.”
The fans in his computer start sounding like they’re about to take off, but it helps. The image of the screen is redrawn bigger, slowly and line by line. And it’s fucking clearer, or I’m fucking insane. Not clear, but clearer.
“Motherfucker,” Colt swears. He reaches out and taps the screen. “I saw that guy. I don’t know his name, but that tattoo? It’s him. He came out of the office before Quinn and her mom had an appointment with the image management guy.”
“You’re sure?” I lean in close and study the still image.
The guy blends right in. Mid-twenties, average height and build, plain dark clothing. The only really stand-out feature is the black sun inked on the side of his neck. It’s clear enough to be memorable, but the design isn’t anything special. A black circle a bit bigger than a quarter, with alternating long and short spikes around the edge. He could easily have been at the Brentport attack and I wouldn’t have noticed.
“Pull up the photos from the articles about the kidnapping attempt.” My fists clench instinctively, eager to make someone pay.
Poe nods. We go over them one by one. The guy with the tattoo isn’t identifiable, but Greg Cook is there, just like Colt mentioned after the meeting with Quinn and Sheila. He’s standing off to the side, watching. A frozen moment in time doesn’t tell the whole story. He could’ve thrown himself into the fight a second later, but…
“If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck?—”
“It’s probably a motherfucking setup,” Colt finishes for me.
“Why?” Poe asks. “You guys know this situation better than I do. What would they have to gain from this? You think Quinn is involved in something?”
“Attention? It generated a lot of headlines,” I guess. “But no, I don’t think Quinn is in on it. Not knowingly, anyway. I saw the look in her eyes when I pulled her out of that van. She was fucking terrified. What’s the call?”
Colt runs a hand through his hair while he thinks. “Quinn’s with her mother at a photoshoot. Let’s contact Priest and tell him we have a lead connected to Cook. We need to move fast. If he’s involved, he’s not going to be happy with us sniffing around and I don’t want to give him time to come up with a cover story or to pack up and run.”
“I don’t like having Quinn there when she’s already been targeted twice that we know of, but if everyone’s in one place, it doesn’t leave room for Sheila to accuse us of making shit up to get Cook out of the picture.”
“If he’s behind it…” Colt’s grin is sharp as a blade.
I nod. “Getting him off the street would be community service. I’m generous like that.” I pat Poe on the shoulder. “Thanks for the help, man. If you’ll excuse us, I think we might have someone’s kneecaps to crush.”
“Sure. Just let me know if you need anything else. Always happy to help clean up the trash.”
18
Chapter 18 - Colt
I spotPriest’s bike and Sheila’s car in the parking lot when me and Sinner pull in. I wish we’d had time to fill Priest in, but I didn’t want to chance Sheila overhearing anything. He’s done his part, though, getting the two of them in place.
“Are you going to explain why we’re here?” Sheila says testily.
Quinn gives me an apologetic smile. “Mom, he already told us they’d explain it when everyone was together.”
“We found some new information about the incident at Inferno and considering how serious the threat is, waiting didn’t seem like a good idea.” Sinner looks around like we’re gonna get jumped in the parking lot.
The older I fucking get, the more I believe that our gut instincts are the most important first clue we get. I knew from the jump that Cook wasn’t trustworthy, but there’s a difference between being shady and being dangerous. We have to at least give him an opportunity to convince us that we’re wrong.
For his sake I hope that’s true, but for ours, it would certainly make it easier to wrap this all up.
