A bearded man with a buzzed head filled the small screen. He was a big guy, but his friendly smile wasn’t exactly menacing.
Shit, he’s calling to say they’ve got nothing.
“Hey, Atlas,” he greeted before his eyes moved to the other side of his own screen, likely to look at me. “Hey, man, big fan. Pretty sure I have a friend of yours here.”
The view blurred as the phone was moved. I expected to see someone in a security office or hotel room.
Instead, it was a dingy concrete room that looked like a basement.
Or a jail cell.
I was closer with the last one since the guest of honor was restrained to a metal chair.
Fucking Alex.
Like a bad case of crabs, he keeps coming back.
After the break-in at my place, Atlas had tried to determine if Alex was behind it. He hadn’t been able to because he couldn’t locate my former assistant. His mail was piling up, and no one in his apartment building had seen him.
Now we knew why. He was partying it up in Vegas.
“Tripp, thank God,” Alex said, leaning forward toward the screen so I could see his swollen eye that was sure to be black and blue before long. “Tell them this is a misunderstanding. That you know me. They beat me, man. I’ve never been hit before!”
That was a surprise. Alex had a lot of punchable qualities.
The view flipped to the bearded man—Ash. “We didn’t beat him. He was on the Strip, and when we tried to chat, he ran. We stopped him.”
“With a fist,” Atlas surmised.
“To the face, correct.” The camera moved again, and that time Ash crouched so he and Alex were in the frame at the same time. “What do you want us to do with him?”
All three sets of eyes landed on me, waiting for my answer.
“Did he have his phone on him?” I asked.
Another giant pissed-off looking man stepped into view and held out a phone that was already in a plastic bag. “Cole said it’s the same one linked with yours.”
Atlas wasn’t kidding that they’re not regular employees, and that sure as shit isn’t a regular resort.
Not unless it’s dungeon themed.
“There’s probably enough to press some kind of charges,” I said.
Atlas gestured around. “And your lawyer will have fun finding every tiny way he broke his contract and NDA.”
“Not as much fun as I was hoping to have,” Ash said, “but I get it. We’ll hand him over to a detective we know.”
“Wait, whoa, hold on,” Alex rushed out. “What if I could offer you info?”
“On what singer is doing which residency?” I asked, lost on what he had that I would care about.
“No. I wasn’t doing this for shits and giggles.”
“Then why?”
“I was being paid.”
“There you are!God, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.”
