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Gav opened, then closed his mouth.
“That’s a good question,” he said.
“Unless you have someone working for you that is involved. Is maybe dealing out of the gym?” I suggested.
I made it a point to go to the gym when next to no one else was around. I had no idea what went on during prime hours.
Had there been deals going down right there at the gym? In the open?
“No, none of my staff…” he started, then realization dawned.
“Beacher,” a guard barked, then came up behind him. “Time’s up,” he added, already reaching down for Gav.
“M—“ Gav tried to say into the phone. But the corrections officer grabbed the phone, and slammed it down into the receiver before I could hear what he was trying to tell me.
A name.
It had to be a name.
Someone’s name who started with an M.
That couldn’t be too hard.
Everleigh could tell me all of the names of the employees. How many Ms could there be?
I watched as Gav was led away, glad Simon had told me to visit.
“Yo?” Slash answered as soon as I got on my bike and pulled my phone out again.
“Give me permission to pull Rook in on this case for me,” I demanded. “It’s… gotten more complicated, but I got leads now.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Just remind him that the computer stays in Nyx’s studio. If he brings a laptop upstairs, Nancy is gonna catch him.”
“Got it,” I agreed, then hung up before ringing up Simon.
“Got something?” he answered, no nonsense as usual.
“His brother. He said his brother was an addict and dealer as a child. Did time in juvie. He’s providing the merch to the gym.”
“And Everleigh was the one to handle the merch deliveries…”
“Yeah. But we got cut short. Someone who is working at the gym with an M name. I think anyway. The C.O. was pulling him away.”
“Can’t be that many. Talk to Everleigh. I’ll have my people look into it too. Good job. If there’s anything else, let me know.”
He hung up then.
And I drove back to Shady Valley, taking a minute to drop in to the karate studio to find Rook wasn’t pretending to work there.
“Open up. I got a job for you,” I called through his door.
“Thank fuck,” Rook said, swinging open the door.
His place was sparse and surprisingly neat, considering how big a mess he could leave at the clubhouse at times.
He was likely used to not having much while inside, and was still learning to adapt to being outside. Eventually, he would buy more shit, would make this place feel more comfortable. Maybe even let a mess form, knowing a C.O. wasn’t going to get on his ass about it.
“There are rules,” I told him.
