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Sadie was right. Adding Jameson to the payroll would pay off. It already had. I reached for the forgotten glass of whiskey, downed it, and looked at Ellison.
“Fucking Beck.” It was almost like the bitch was daring me to kill her.
“She didn’t say shit to me about it, or Marshall as far as I can tell, which means she’s fucking with you.”
I agreed with his assessment. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to goad her, to bring her so close to orgasm, and then leave her hanging, but fuck it, I couldn’t resist. No matter what she said or did from this moment forward, I would always have that to hang over her fucking head.
Jameson’s phone rang, and he grabbed it before the second ring. “Hey babe, what’s up?” He listened with the smile of a man in love and sighed. “On my way.” He pushed out of the chair and headed for the door, a man on a mission.
“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done here.” Ellison always came through regarding intel, but goddamn, the dude needed to learn who the fuck was in charge.
“You might not be done, but I am. I gave you the intel, but the Green Zone is the jurisdiction of Glitz PD, not Vegas. Nothing more I can do.”
He didn’t need to say he couldn’t do shit in Vegas, either, he was still a rookie and could only offer up intel.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Maddie’s water broke, and Molly is taking her to the hospital, which means I’m about to meet my baby boy.”
Without another word, Jameson strolled out of my office, whistling.
What the fuck kind of maniac whistled?
“Beck is becoming more than a nuisance,” Terry said, annoyance darkening his tone.
“She is, but killing her now would bring too much heat, so we need to play this smart.”
Beck was just cocky enough that she would make a mistake too big to take back, and I was just the man to push her into that.
“The bigger issue is that someone’s been running their fucking mouth. We switch up shift times every couple days, so how the fuck does GPD know when to come?”
If there was a fucking mole, I’d find them and make them regret it.
Terry nodded. “I’ll head over to Lucky Lopez now, review the security footage to see who she’s been talking to.”
“Good idea. Talk to Thomas since he’s running the floors tonight. Tell him what’s going on. Make sure he staggers shift times of the dancers and staff. If he’s got any truly underage girls there, get them the fuck out. We don’t deal in pedophilia.”
“Got it. You gonna be all right here on your own?”
I glared up at my best friend, who knew me a little too well.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s obvious you got something else on your mind. You worried about someone finding the bodies of The Psychos?”
“No, should I be worried?” Our clean-up crew didn’t make mistakes like leaving any bit of evidence behind. I paid them well, so they knew better.
“Fuck no,” Terry smiled. “I chopped ’em up and left a big pile to keep the crew on their toes. What’s fucking with your head, if not The Psychos?”
I didn’t have time to bitch about Mo right now. “I’ll tell you about it later.” Terry nodded and left, and I picked up the phone to reach out to a few contacts on the Glitz police payroll.
When my contact picked up, I barked, “Why the fuck did I have to learn about the Lucky Lopez raid from someone not at Glitz PD?”
The officer on the other end of the line stammered, fearful and quiet, which was exactly the reason I’d called him on the precinct phone. “I just found out myself, Mr. Ashby.”
“More than five minutes ago?”
“About thirty minutes ago, yeah, but we just got our assignments.”
“Not fucking good enough, Stewart. This is the kind of shit that warrants a text message, no matter what the fuck you’re doing.”
“Understood.”
“Anything else I need to know?” I listened, pinching the bridge of my nose as he outlined the whole fucking night.
“That’s all I know, but you’ll be my first call if I find out anything else.”
“That’s what I want to hear,” I told him and ended the call. Goddamn Beck was determined to add as much stress to my life as fucking possible.
“Fuck!”
My cell vibrated across the desk, lighting up with an incoming text message. “Feel like shit. Not coming in today.”
Mo.
I was ready to lose my shit, and I couldn’t afford to have a mental breakdown right now. After a quick pour of Velvet Fire, I knew what I had to do. Who I needed to see to find my equilibrium.
Sadie.
“Jasper.”
Thomas called to me from a bench surrounded by flowers just off to the side of the hospital, a thick cloud of cigar smoke surrounding him. “We need to talk.”
