Page 58 of Omar

"You sure about this?" I asked.

"The money doesn't lie." Devon tapped the spreadsheet. "Darnell Webb's name is on every account. He's the bridge. TK's money man and Supreme's property manager. Same person running both sides."

"What about the registration timing?"

Devon pulled a separate folder from the bottom of the stack. "That's where it gets complicated." He opened it. "Greyline Holdings was incorporated around the same time Pops disappeared. But the original incorporation documents list a different signatory. Not Darnell Webb."

"Who?"

"A name I don't recognize. Leonard Pryce. I ran him through everything I got. No criminal record, no business associations, nothing in any of our databases. But here's the thing." Devon put two documents side by side. "Leonard Pryce signed the Greyline incorporation in January, two years back. Pops went missing in March. And by April, the signatory changed from Leonard Pryce to Darnell Webb. Somebody took over that company weeks after Pops disappeared."

The room was quiet. Devon looked at me, waiting.

"Who's Leonard Pryce?" I asked.

"That's what I'm trying to find out. The name could be real. Could be an alias. Could be somebody who's dead. But whoever he was, he set up the infrastructure that Supreme and TK are using right now, and he did it right before Pops went missing." Devon pulled one more sheet. "And Omar. I cross-referenced the name against the Hampton Royal hotel records from that week. Leonard Pryce booked a conference room at that hotel three days before Pops disappeared."

My chest tightened. The Hampton Royal was where Deonte had heard Pops arguing with someone in the back office. The same hotel, the same week.

"So whoever set up Greyline was at the same hotel as Pops right before he was taken," I said.

"That's what the records say."

I took the folder from him. The incorporation document was clean, professional. Leonard Pryce, registered agent. Delaware address that was probably a PO box. No phone number, no additional contact.

"Keep digging," I said. "Everything you can find on Pryce. And keep this between us for now."

"Not even Kadeem?"

"Kadeem gets the TK-Supreme connection. That's enough for the meeting. The Pryce angle stays with us until we know what we're looking at."

Devon nodded. He understood.

I drove to Kadeem's with the TK-Supreme file and left the Pryce documents locked in my glove box. Kadeem was in the kitchen with Stone. Shanay had made them coffee. She poured me one without asking and left us alone.

I laid it out. TK as Supreme's proxy. The shell companies, the shared signatories, the money flow. Three years of street war explained in twenty minutes of paperwork.

Kadeem went through the documents slowly. Stone sat beside him, reading over his shoulder, his glasses on. When I finished talking they were both quiet.

Stone spoke first. "This changes the calculus significantly." He took off his glasses and set them on the table. "If Supreme is running TK, then every territory agreement we've negotiated with him is theater. He's been funding the attacks on our operations while sitting across from us at the table."

"Which means we can't confront him with this," Kadeem said. "Not yet."

"Agreed." Stone leaned forward. "We need to build the full picture first. Rushing now means missing the depth of the operation. If we move on Supreme before we understand the entire structure, we'll cut the head off but the body keeps moving under TK. We need to know every account, every property, every associate. Then we go to the Associates with the complete case."

It was good advice. Stone was right: moving too fast would leave TK operational even if Supreme went down. We needed the whole picture.

"How long?" Kadeem asked Devon's timeline.

"Devon says two weeks to map the full financial structure. Maybe less if he can get into the banking records."

"Then we wait." Kadeem gathered the papers. "Stone, I want you to cross-reference everything Devon finds against our own records. See if anything overlaps with our operations, our contacts, our territory."

"Of course." Stone's voice was warm, professional. "I'll start tonight."

There was a moment where Stone picked up one of the shell company documents and turned it over. "You know," he said, almost as an afterthought, "this Greyline entity. The registration date is interesting. Same window as when Pops went missing." He looked at me. "Did Devon flag that?"

"He mentioned it."