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Bennett: Where did you get these names?

NM: My people found another camera angle, Too far for license plate, just the car

NM: Six of your teammates drive this car

NM: Which shows a shameful lack of originality

Lauren snickered. “He’s funny.”

“He’s in the mafia, Lauren.”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t also be funny.”

That didn’t deserve a response. “It’s also not Singh.”

“How do you know?”

Bennett was already writing the answer, It’s not Singh. He has dark skin and the guy in the photos was white

NM: That leaves 4

Bennett: You need to leave them alone and let me investigate

NM: No

Bennett: I can’t have you offing four of my teammates

Bennett: Especially right before playoffs

“Ouch,” Lauren said. “Not cool, Bennett. You’re basically telling the guy hockey is more important than his cousin.”

“No, I’m not. I’m telling him not to start killing my teammates.”

Another message popped up.

NM: Verreault

NM: I don’t give a single FUCK about your team or schedule

“Told you.” He could see Lauren shaking her head in his peripheral vision. “Dummy.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll clarify what I meant.”

Bennett: I didn’t mean it that way

Bennett: I just don’t want you kidnapping and torturing all of them to learn who it is

NM: Worried I might like one of them more than you?

Bennett: Fuck off

Bennett: That isn’t what I am talking about and you know it

NM: You do not need to worry

NM: None of them are as sexy as you

Bennett tossed his phone on the counter as if it were possessed, as if he could pretend that last comment never happened. Why would Nico say something like that? It made Bennett uncomfortable. Panicky. He didn’t want them to compliment each other. That wasn’t what they were doing.