To [email protected]
From: J.J.admin@j_jhotelsemail.com
Re: Confidential
R,
These are the guys who we’d like taken care of. Ten grand for each. Sanders will look the other way. I’ll be watching. Money will be wired in the usual way.
JJ
The second email is much the same but to a different person and noting a different ref. If that’s not a smoking gun, I don’t know what is. And Sutton’s father had the stupidity to send them from an official email address too. He really does think he can get away with anything.
“I didn’t ask how he got these, and I don’t recognize the recipients,” Will says. “I know it’s not much, but …”
Wes takes a few sips of his drink. “They might ask you to testify in some sort of hearing.”
“I know,” Will says.
“Are you willing too?”
He blows out a breath. “I am. It might screw up my chances of staying in Charlotte, but I don’t care. It’s my job as alternate captain to set an example. This shit is terrible and won’t go down under my watch.”
“Thank you. We appreciate you sticking your neck out for us,” I say.
“Of course. We might be opponents on the ice, but that doesn’t mean we can’t help each other out. Besides that’s some shady shit.”
Will drinks the last of his coffee and sets his empty cup on the table.
“If there’s anything else you see or hear,” Wes says.
“I’ll keep an eye out.” He glances down at his smart watch. “I should probably get going.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Wes stands, and I do the same. We shake Will’s hand, and then he grabs his garbage and makes his way out of the café.
“Holy shit,” Wes says as we retake our seats.
“Tell me about it.” I take another drink of my coffee, and we sit in silence for a few minutes.
“You think this will be enough?” Wes finally asks.
“Dunno. Hopefully the PI can dig something up too that helps.”
“You should text him pictures of these emails. Maybe he can figure out who they’re being sent to since all we have are initials and random email addresses.” He takes the papers back out, unfolds them, and smooths them out on the table.
“Good idea.” I pick up my phone and snap a few pictures then send a text message to Logan.
He responds a few seconds later, telling me he’ll see what he can find out.
“You ready to go?” Wes asks.
I drink the last of my coffee, and we get up and make our way out of the coffee shop, going our separate ways in the parking lot.
I hope that between these emails and whatever information Logan finds, this is the proof we need to stop Sutton’s father and maybe even take down a few corrupt officials and players while we’re at it.