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“So, what happened? The cop on the lam?”
“No,” Ricky said and fidgeted. “Michaelson and his boys got to him. Cop is in the hospital and the hire is gone. Probably dropped—”
Ricky didn’t finish because I’d grabbed him by the coat and shoved him against the wall. “How the fuck does Michaelson know about the cop? How did he get there first?”
“We’re trying to figure that out,” Ricky gasped. “White is working on it. But it looks like Michaelson doesn’t have it. The laptop was wiped.”
“How do you know?”
Ricky sighed and made a gesture for me to let him go. I did and he shrugged out of his jacket, then slid off a laptop bag. I frowned as he pulled out a slightly dinged-up laptop with a splatter of blood on it and pushed Ricky out of the way as I opened it.
It opened onto a dying battery and a welcome page to set up the computer.
“Someone killed it,” Ricky said.
“Damn,” I said. “And no one knows what happened to it?” My rage was growing. “Or whether Michaelson now has the motherload the cop collected?”
“Exactly, yes,” Ricky said quietly.
“Fucking hell,” I screamed and picked up the bottle of Russian vodka, hurling it at the wall. Glass and liquor rained down, doing nothing to soothe my temper. “I should’ve gone myself.” I glared at Ricky. “Get the fuck out of here, and don’t let me hear about you bothering my girls. In fact, all Sons of Celt and White’s people are banned from The Cathouse until someone finds out what the fuck happened.”
“Sir,” Ricky said, and real panic flared in his eyes, “you can’t—”
“What’d you just say?” I asked and pulled out a gun from my holster. Ricky fell silent as he stared at it. “That’s what I thought. Get the fuck out. And have fun telling everyone how you and White made it so that no one is getting fucked anytime soon.”
Ricky Gold nodded, backed out of the room and all but ran down the hallway. I shook my head, then stalked back over to Bertie.
“I know,” I said as Bertie stared at the wall. “This is bad.”
Instead of Michaelson’s family going to rot in jail, it’d be mine.
I swallowed hard, rage curdling my gut as I realized this also included me.
“Could I have another drink?” Bertie asked.
“Sure,” I said and shoved the bottle over. “We gotta find out what happened to that evidence.”
Bertie downed his shot and stood up. “I’m on it, boss. And I’ll let the boys know.”
“Tell them that Ricky knows more than he’s letting on,” I said, “but not to fuck with him — I don’t want a war with the Celts. Just follow him. See who he talks to.”
Bertie nodded and vanished while I sat back, fury storming through my veins. Minnie poked her head in a few seconds later and smiled at me.
“I missed you, Henny,” she purred and came over. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’,” I muttered and gripped her ass, making her squeak. “Get me a new girl who needs training,” I ordered, and there was a flicker of fear in her eyes. “Aw, Min. You know they gotta learn eventually.”
“R-Right,” she said and stood up, hurrying to the door.
“And Min,” I called after her. “Don’t forget to gag them and tie their hands behind their back. I don’t want to hear any screaming or deal with any fighting. Or I’ll have to lock you up again.”
Minnie bobbed into a curtsey, her breasts bouncing, and I licked my lips. “Of course, sir,” she said and gave a little wave, disappearing into the hall.
I stood up, going over to my desk and picking up my golf club. Luckily for me, there was always a surefire way to work out some stress.
Then I sighed. It was too damn bad that Tyler Michaelson was such a cold bastard. There wasn’t a single person, not even a damn hooker, that I could hold over his head, not aninch of leverage anywhere. If he’d been like old Volksov, then I’d definitely have a way in. Irina had been the old Russian’s downfall, and now I got to remind her of that every day.
Except for his cousins — who were no better than rabid dogs — Michaelson was too smart to give a fuck about anybody.
