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“Are you gonna go?”
“Nope.”
I snort at her answer, and she casually bumps me with her elbow. When I glance at her, she cuts her eyes to her left, toward the main stage.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you,” she loudly apologizes. “You don’t mind if I join you before I start my shift, do you?”
“Not at all.” I nod to the stool beside me.
Gabe pours her a shot and passes her a bottle of water. But she grabs his hand before he can walk away.
“Stay.”
“I’ve got—”
“Stay,” Friday quietly demands of him.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper, not turning my head to look at her.
She spins on the stool, her back to the main room, using the bottle to cover part of her mouth. “There’s a man over there who’s been watching Gem since I walked in. He’s got a gun tucked into his waistband.”
“He came in right after Gem did.” Gabe leans down, grinning at Friday like he’s flirting with her as he speaks to me. “You think he knows who you are?”
“Probably,” I answer without looking at them. “Shit is about to get rough in Crimson Bay.”
“When is it not?” he asks, glancing over my shoulder.
“Fair.” I chuckle as my day takes a turn for the better. “Call Lou. Tell him to meet me here.”
Friday takes her shot, then murmurs, “What are you going to do?”
“What I always do,” I reply, the corner of my lips lifting in half a grin.
Gabe wanders away, whispering something into Echo’s ear. She joins Friday and me, acting like she’s pouring us more whiskey as she keeps her finger over the spout.
“Do you know him?” Echo inquires, curious if he’s one of mine.
“No.”
“You want me to go talk to him?” Friday offers, more excited than she should be about stirring the pot.
“No.” I bite at my lip. “Actually, there is something you can do for me.”
She nods. “Sure. What do you need?”
“Juan Carlos comes in twice a week,” I point out. “He requests you in his VIP room.”
“Yeah.” She scoffs. “Total dick, but he’s not super handsy, so I deal with it. Tips well. That’s the best I can say about him.”
“Does he talk while you’re in there?”
Friday taps at her lower lip. “Sometimes he takes phone calls. One time, he had another man with him. Cinnamon was with me that night, but I don’t recall them talking about anything that sounded important.”
“I need you to listen in,” I tell her. “Report anything to me that—”
“Done,” she agrees. “Either he’s complimenting me or talking business on his phone, so it shouldn’t be hard to pick out what you need.”
“I didn’t tell you what I need.”
