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"Jimmy Brinks."
Colter shoves his phone into his pocket, his expression grim. "He tried like hell to needle Reid into a fight last week."
My stomach sinks.
"If bookies are paying players to injure or knock players out of games, perhaps they're trying to find a way to capitalize on a nationwide bounty system."
"That's not good."
"Fuck no, it's not," he growls. "Every goddamn sporting league in the nation will be at the mercy of bookies and the players in their pockets."
"I think we need to talk to Bruce Gordon."
"Or we can skip that bullshit and go straight to the source."
"What do you mean?"
He nods straight ahead.
I glance out of the window to see Gavin strolling toward his SUV with two bags of groceries in his hands. "We can't ask him. He'll deny everything."
"I didn't say we should ask him, Trouble," Colter says, his voice grim. "I'm a player. If we need confirmation that he's doing this, we don't have to go to Gordon or Brinks and hope they confess. All we have to do is get word to Gavin that I'm looking to make a little extra cash and let the chips fall where they will."
"That's a terrible idea."
"Why?"
"Because…because…"
"It's the best plan we've got, goddess," he murmurs, reaching out to touch my cheek. "You just don't like it because you don't want me getting hurt."
"That doesn't mean I like you," I lie.
"Yeah, it does."
"Fine, maybe it does," I grumble, my stomach quivering with nerves and anxiety. "But it's still a bad idea. We don't know anything about who he's involved with or how deep this runs or if he's working alone. He's not exactly poor, and I don't think he won his mansion gambling. So putting you on his radar may be putting you on the radar of very bad people."
"Then let's go find out."
"What? How?"
"Buckle up, Trouble," he says by way of answer. "We're going to see the Wizard."
"We're going to see who?"
Apparently, Sheriff Dillon Armstrong is the Wizard because Colter takes me to the Sheriff's Department. I guess that makes Silver Spoon Falls the Land of Oz in his crazy brain. The man is a menace, I swear.
He might also be right. He may be our best shot at figuring out what Gavin is doing that involves AHL players because I don't think Bruce Gordon is going to tell us even if we fly to Arizona to ask. He isn't going to incriminate himself, especially if the truth may cost him his career. I doubt Jimmy Brinks will, either. But if Colter offers himself up to Gavin, he'll be able to confirm whether or not Gavin is offering players cash to take out other players.
Being the one to break a story like that would be monumental. But this is bigger than just a story at this point. If bookies and illegal gambling rings are trying to gain a foothold in sports betting this way, it could be disastrous for players. How many will be injured, not just in the AHL, but in every major and minor sports league in the United States? The potential fallout is almost too big to consider.
Of course it'd happen here, where rich men come to grow richer. This town is overrun with millionaires and billionaires who move where the money takes them. Some of them—most of the ones I've met, actually—are amazing people. But most isn't all. Not a lot of people become obscenely wealthy because they're paragons of virtue.
The super rich like to accumulate wealth and hang onto it. That leaves them vulnerable to all kinds of misdeeds and dark plots. It wouldn't take much for a guy like Gavin to convince his rich friends to buy into this scheme if it offers a lucrative enough return. It makes a place like Silver Spoon Falls the perfect breeding ground for a scheme like this.
And I really thought life here would be boring. I guess I should have known better, considering Adalynn was almost kidnapped from the bar where she works right after she moved here. Boring doesn't seem to be in the cards for any of us Marsh girls.
"Why are we here?" I ask Colter as he helps me out of his truck.
"To see the sheriff. Figured if anyone knows anything about your bookie, he does." He tips my face up to his, his hazel eyes practically glowing as he examines my expression. "Not sure how I feel about letting you walk into a station full of cops looking like you do, though."
My lips pull down into a frown. I'm wearing my favorite suit. It makes my boobs look phenomenal. I may have picked it hoping I'd see Colter again today. "What's wrong with the way I look?"
"You're too fucking beautiful," he growls, genuinely distressed. "How do I even hope to be worthy of a goddess when the whole goddamn town will be trying to steal her away?"
