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It allows me to focus on looking into the players I know he's been in contact with. I spend most of Monday digging into Bruce Gordon and Jimmy Brinks, trying to rule out any other possible explanation, like gambling addictions. There are rumors about Bruce Gordon, but nothing I can substantiate. There's nothing on Jimmy Brinks, though. The man hasn't even been to a casino that I can find.
I leave work early on Tuesday with a headache after scouring the internet all day. Dillon calls me on the way home.
"I called your office, but Elysa said you'd already left," he says.
"Yeah, I just left a few minutes ago. What's up?"
"I've got some information on Gavin Cochran."
"What did you find?" I ask, gripping the steering wheel as a bolt of excitement shoots through me. I try shoving it back into a little box, knowing it could be nothing, but we're due for a break here.
"Have you ever heard of Dominic Grigori?"
"No?"
"Me either," Dillon mutters. "He and Gavin were partners back in NYC. Dominic was busted for insider trading a few years ago. You'll never guess why."
"Um, because he sucks?"
"Smart ass," Dillon says, making me smile. "His cousin was clerking for the Supreme Court and put a little bug in his ear on Murphy v. National Collegiate Athletic Association before the opinion was made public. He bought up a bunch of stock in companies poised to enter the sportsbook arena if a favorable decision came down from the court. Had he not bragged to the wrong person, he would have stood to make millions when their sportsbooks went live."
"Wow," I whisper. "Was Gavin involved?"
"He was never charged." Dillon hesitates. "But I looked into his fortune. He invested heavily in casinos and sportsbooks. He's taken a big hit over the last few years."
"How big?"
"One of the companies he sank a lot of money into in Jersey was raided by the government."
"So really big then," I mutter, slowing at a stop sign on Broadway.
"Yep."
"Do you think he's working with anyone?"
"He may have his buddies tied up in this, but if he does, I'm guessing he's the one pulling the strings," Dillon says. "If you ask me, I think he's looking for a surefire way to gain a foothold on sports betting. Once he irons out the kinks, he'll take it to his buddies, and they'll front the capital when he launches his own sportsbook. He'll be able to offer something his competitors can't and will sweep the board. Either that, or he'll sell the scheme to someone to recoup what he lost. Either way, he comes up smelling like roses."
"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of," I sigh. Either way, it's not good. And as of now, we have no proof that he's even committed a crime. All we have are pictures of him giving Bruce Gordon money. That's not illegal. Unless he confesses or one of the players he approaches does, we've got nothing.
"Keep me in the loop on this," Dillon says. "And don't do anything foolish, Leia. Your parents have been through enough already with Adalynn and Charlie. Don't give them another reason to worry."
"I won't, I promise."
Dillon snorts like he doesn't believe me and then disconnects.
I drop my phone in the passenger seat and head toward home, my mind racing a million miles a minute. Colter has a game tonight, and Gavin still hasn't taken our bait. At this point, I don't think he's going to take it at all. Has he already found someone on the other team to pay off?
Maybe I should be heading for the arena instead of the house. At least if he meets someone who tries to knock one of the Falcons out, we'll know that he's absolutely guilty. From there, it'll just be a matter of getting one of the guys to talk. Which one? Bruce Gordon? Jimmy Brinks? Whoever he picks tonight?
I pull up outside of the house and park, still thinking over everything. I'm halfway to the front door when my phone rings. Despite my mood, seeing Colter's name on the display brings a smile to my face.
"Hey, Bossy. You miss me already?" I ask, trying to juggle the phone and my back while unlocking the door.
"Always, Trouble." He sounds tired. Probably because he isn't getting much sleep. We're up late making love every night, and then he's up before the sun every morning to train. I don't know how he does it. "I got an interesting phone call."
"Really? So did I. You tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine." I close the front door and drop my bag by the credenza before kicking off my shoes. I'm going to get a hot shower, change, and then head to the arena. I'll camp out until the game starts and then head inside to watch Colter play.
