Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Nick
“You’re not very active on social media, huh?” Noel asked Matt as he poured the three of us some sweet tea.
“Not really. I mean when I have something to post I will, but I won’t just for the sake of it.”
Noel nodded. “I can respect that. Here’s what I found on the SM front. You post things that are actually knowledgeable info. In one you held two large Almond Joys in your hands with a silly smile on your face, a Halloween party, judging by the fact that you were dressed up?”
“Oh yeah, Joan had one last year.”
“Right.” Noel sat at the table with us. “You captioned it, ‘The best candy in the world.’”
Matt sighed. “And that’s how they found out it was my favorite?”
“What my brother is trying to say is that knowing personal shit is an inner-circle thing. When it was posted on SM then, everyone knew and it eliminates it definitely being your closest friends.”
“So, it can be a stranger?” Matt was gripping his glass.
“I don’t think it is.” I reached over and gently slid my finger across his white knuckles. “I do think they know who you are in real life, but perhaps aren’t as close as we originally assumed.”
“Also.” Noel cleared his throat. “You do have a commenter.”
“He does?” My eyes widened—that was good news.
“Yeah, but I don’t know how threatening they are. They reacted to every post across your social media, and commented on many. The Almond Joy one said, ‘Love those too.’ On the dance pics at The Alibi, they wrote that it was one of their faves.”
“They’re familiar with the area, also meaning they are from around here.”
Matt huffed. “Of course they are, we’ve seen them. Fuck, Nick, they attacked me in the garage.”
I squeezed Matt’s arm and looked at Noel. “Who owns the handle that commented?”
He sat back with a heavy breath. “That’s the part that’s weird.”
“That’s the part? All of this is strange.” Matt was red faced and flustered.
Noel darted his eyes toward Matt, then me, silently telling me Matt was losing it. “I tracked the handle down to one Greg Morgan.”
“Fuck.” I slapped my hand on the table. “Okay, that’s it, we’re going to talk to Greg.”
“You can’t do that,” Matt admonished. “We should call Officer Mendez to make it legal.”
Noel snorted. “And how, pray tell, do we explain to the police we got all this information leading us to Greg Morgan?”
Matt opened and closed his mouth. “I…I don’t know.”
“I just think we need him to answer a few questions. I won’t hurt him.” I left out the, unless he makes me , part.
“I should go.”
“Absolutely not,” I said at the same time Noel responded, “Bad idea.”
“What, why?”
I turned in my seat and took Matt’s hands in mine. “If Greg is actually the one doing all of this, and he sees you in his space, it changes the dynamic of this whole thing.”
“Yeah, maybe he’ll confess.”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Uh, no, I mean he could become volatile.”
“Well, then, what am I supposed to do?”
I kissed his palm, earning a soft smile. “Will you stay here until I’m done?”
“You’re going now?”
I nodded. “I’ll call Gabe to come with me.”
Matt looked from me to Noel. “Anything you can do to watch over him?”
Noel snickered. “Nick has a tracker on him. I always know where he is.”
Noel and I both had trackers, as well as all of our brothers. “Okay,” Matt breathed. “That works.” He gripped his own necklace with the tracker—it was one of the rare occasions he’d remembered to wear it.
Once Matt was a lot calmer and okay with me going to Greg’s, I texted Gabe the situation and he said he’d be home in five and to wait for him.
While I waited, I read over the findings on the deep dive I had going. A few other hackers had been able to find other things but nothing too huge at the moment. Basically all the places Greg Morgan had ever lived, along with Beth from Belle’s Beanery, and were currently diving into Nicole and James Somers. It was going to take some time. There was a little suspicious shit but nothing that screamed at me to deal with it prior to Greg.
I gave Matt a kiss, and he clung a little bit longer to me than usual. He stood by the front door while Gabe and I drove off the property.
“What’s the game plan?” Gabe asked me as he turned onto the main road.
“Ask him questions, don’t leave before we have some answers.”
Gabe smirked. “Solid.”
Greg Morgan’s apartment was a sight. He had many cats, more than I was sure the landlord allowed. However, it was clean, and it didn’t stink of feline. On top of the animals, the artwork on the walls also displayed cats, as did the dishes and curtains…it was unsettling. If he wasn’t a stalker I’d have pegged him for a serial killer, maybe.
Gabe and I were currently standing in the middle of his place, cats curling around our ankles, waiting for Greg to return home. According to his work schedule, he shouldn’t be too much longer.
“Good thing neither of us is allergic.” Gabe eyed a gray tabby that was smooshing their face into Gabe’s calf.
“Right.”
About five minutes later, I heard the sound of keys and a door unlocking.
“I’m home, babies,” Greg’s nasal voice echoed from the main entrance into the living room. The cats scattered toward him. “Hi, yes, Daddy’s home.”
I glanced at Gabe, who was clearly in hell. Greg cooed and baby-talked for a good four minutes before even walking down the hallway.
“Who wants dinner?” Greg’s footsteps got closer…finally. He rounded the corner and dropped his messenger bag.
“Hello, Greg.” I smiled. He opened his mouth to speak, but Gabe pulled out a gun. Of course he wasn’t going to shoot, but it certainly shut Greg right up.
“Wha…who are you people?” His cats were meowing, desperately wanting food.
“Let’s take this into the kitchen so you can feed your…” I gestured to all of them.
“Oh…okay, are you going to kill me?”
“We hope not,” Gabe grunted.
He nodded, and we followed closely. Greg went about laying out bowls and getting all of the food out for his “babies.” He glanced at Gabe a few times, and I was to his right, watching him like a hawk.
Once he had their food down, he leaned against the counter. “Why are you here?” He was sweating, there was a shake to his hands, and his gaze darted from me to Gabe.
“I have a few questions for you, Greg.” I hopped up onto the kitchen stool.
“What questions?”
“You own a red-and-black bagger bike?”
His brow creased. “Sort of.”
I looked over at Gabe, who rolled his eyes. “No one sort of owns something, you do or you don’t. Maybe playing with us isn’t a great idea.” Gabe stepped forward, and Greg held up his hands.
“Let me explain.”
“That would be a smart idea.” Gabe’s expression was full-on sarcasm.
“I did buy a bagger bike about six months ago. It was a stupid idea; I’m not motorcycle material.” Greg laughed nervously. “Anyway. I was going to sell it, but my friend told me they’d buy it off me.”
“But that didn’t happen because you’re still on the registration and title,” I said.
“Right. But also wrong.” Greg cleared his throat. “My friend thought it would be smart if I kept making the payments and stuff, build my credit since it’s sort of shitty. So they’ve been paying the monthly and the insurance to me, then I take care of it.”
That was fucking clever. “I see. What a nice thing for your friend to do.” I grinned. “Who’s the friend?”
“Why do you need to know that?”
“Here’s the thing, Greg.” Gabe sighed. “When you have something, anything, under your name and it’s used in a nefarious way, well, that gets tracked back to you.”
“Nefarious way? It’s not really illegal, is it?”
“Is your friend on the insurance or anything?” Greg’s grimace was answer enough. “That’s not good.” I shrugged.
Greg frowned. “Wait, are you guys with my insurance carrier?”
Gabe laughed. “Do you know a lot of insurance companies that have men with guns going door to door threatening their clients to be sure to put all drivers on their plans?”
“It’s a scary world,” Greg mumbled.
“Your friend, who are they?” I’d had enough of this conversation.
“Are you going to hurt my friend?”
Gabe took another step forward. “I’m gonna hurt you in a second, Morgan. Who is the friend?”
Greg bit his lip, hesitated, then responded. “Lenny Harlston.”
Who the fuck is Lenny Harlston?