Chapter 17
“You know, this would be a lot fucking easier if I didn’t feel all of you assholes literally breathing down my neck while I worked.” Poe waves a hand behind him, shooing us away.
I slap my hand down on his shoulder. “You’re a fucking wizard, Poe. We’re just entranced by your magic.”
The bartender from Inferno got back to us with the security footage from the night someone slipped something into Quinn’s drink.
The quality isn’t the best, and made worse by the dim lighting and the smoke machines they had going.
They went through it themselves, and we forwarded it to Quinn to pass on, but so far there’s no clear shot of anyone tampering with the drinks.
He snorts, not impressed. “Their camera placement sucks. They’re clearly more worried about catching their own people than what’s going on in the rest of the club.”
On the screen, we watch as Em works the bar. A constant stream of people come and go. Sometimes John comes into view, but the end of the bar where he’s supposed to be picking up the order trays is only partly in the shot.
“So is this girl going to stick around?” Poe asks, still focused on the screen. “Paige told me you had her down at the shooting range. Just a warning, she and Jess are already plotting on how to pull Quinn into their group.”
Colt huffs. “A little early to make that call. She’s a client for the moment.”
“Is that what you told her when you had her up in your room?” I ask. I’m not jealous, but I know for a fucking fact that he thought me and Priest were going too easy on Quinn.
“You got a problem with it?”
I shrug. “Just throwing stones at your shiny glass house, man. How’s it feel in there?”
“Oh, go fuck yourself.” He flips me off.
“I would, but I’d rather see if Quinn’s around and—”
“Wait, go back.” Colt snaps.
Poe rewinds in small steps, pausing each time. “What are you seeing?”
“Can you do anything to clear that up?”
Poe messes with the settings. “I can adjust the contrast and upscale a bit. I can’t make something out of nothing, but sacrificing definition in certain areas can make other details jump out.”
The fans in his computer start sounding like they’re about to take off, but it helps. The image of the screen is redrawn bigger, slowly and line by line. And it’s fucking clearer, or I’m fucking insane. Not clear, but clearer.
“Motherfucker,” Colt swears. He reaches out and taps the screen. “I saw that guy. I don’t know his name, but that tattoo? It’s him. He came out of the office before Quinn and her mom had an appointment with the image management guy.”
“You’re sure?” I lean in close and study the still image.
The guy blends right in. Mid-twenties, average height and build, plain dark clothing.
The only really stand-out feature is the black sun inked on the side of his neck.
It’s clear enough to be memorable, but the design isn’t anything special.
A black circle a bit bigger than a quarter, with alternating long and short spikes around the edge.
He could easily have been at the Brentport attack and I wouldn’t have noticed.
“Pull up the photos from the articles about the kidnapping attempt.” My fists clench instinctively, eager to make someone pay.
Poe nods. We go over them one by one. The guy with the tattoo isn’t identifiable, but Greg Cook is there, just like Colt mentioned after the meeting with Quinn and Sheila.
He’s standing off to the side, watching.
A frozen moment in time doesn’t tell the whole story.
He could’ve thrown himself into the fight a second later, but…
“If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck—”
“It’s probably a motherfucking setup,” Colt finishes for me.
“Why?” Poe asks. “You guys know this situation better than I do. What would they have to gain from this? You think Quinn is involved in something?”
“Attention? It generated a lot of headlines,” I guess. “But no, I don’t think Quinn is in on it. Not knowingly, anyway. I saw the look in her eyes when I pulled her out of that van. She was fucking terrified. What’s the call?”
Colt runs a hand through his hair while he thinks.
“Quinn’s with her mother at a photoshoot.
Let’s contact Priest and tell him we have a lead connected to Cook.
We need to move fast. If he’s involved, he’s not going to be happy with us sniffing around and I don’t want to give him time to come up with a cover story or to pack up and run. ”
“I don’t like having Quinn there when she’s already been targeted twice that we know of, but if everyone’s in one place, it doesn’t leave room for Sheila to accuse us of making shit up to get Cook out of the picture.”
“If he’s behind it…” Colt’s grin is sharp as a blade.
I nod. “Getting him off the street would be community service. I’m generous like that.” I pat Poe on the shoulder. “Thanks for the help, man. If you’ll excuse us, I think we might have someone’s kneecaps to crush.”
“Sure. Just let me know if you need anything else. Always happy to help clean up the trash.”