Page 74 of Ciaran
“On my way.”
When Draven turns up, he helps himself to a beer from the fridge, but when he offers me one, my stomach lurches. It’ll be some time before I can face alcohol again.
“I’m good. What’ve you got?”
He takes a long pull from the bottle. “You said Tanner Fuckhead was a football coach, right?”
I nod. “I did.”
“And he’s not the big guy? The head honcho kind of coach?”
“No. From the few things Millie’s said, he’s the junior. In my opinion, they keep him around because he fucked up his knee on their watch. Why?”
Draven slips his phone from his inside pocket, taps the screen, then hands it to me. It’s open on the website of a five-star hotel on Fifth Avenue.
“You think he can afford to stay there on his paycheck?” Draven asks.
My eyes widen in surprise. “That’s where he was staying when he was in New York?”
Draven nods. “Wanna know what I think?”
He doesn’t need to share because I’ve already guessed the answer. “Drugs, or maybe, given his sports career, steroids.”
“Yep. I bet the slimy bastard is dealing juice to the young kids. Selling them the dream. Get bigger, stronger, jump ahead of the competition, yada yada.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “That’s fucked up.”
“No, that’s Fuckhead.” Draven grins.
I manage a faint smile. “In other news, I found a contact in Chicago—a guy I was in the cadets with. He’s a detective now, which works in our favor. He’s agreed to poke around, see what he can dig up.”
“Excellent.” Draven strokes his beard thoughtfully. “Is he clean?”
I frown. “As I recall, he was a bit of a rebel. I was surprised when I heard he’d made detective.”
“Here’s hoping there’s still a few dirty spots on him.” Draven lumbers to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
Draven throws his arms out wide. “Where else? Chicago.”
Luke claps me on the shoulder. “You haven’t changed a bit,” he says. “What’s it been… six, seven years?”
“Something like that.” I gesture to Draven. “This is my partner, Draven. Don’t let his size put you off. He’s a pussycat.”
“Bullshit,” Draven booms, shaking Luke’s outstretched hand.
Luke winces, and I swallow a smile. Draven does that on purpose.
“I know we only spoke yesterday, but have you managed to find out anything?”
“I have.” He gestures to a couple of worn chairs in front of his desk. “I was going to call, but when you said you were on your way here, I thought I’d wait and tell you face to face.”
We both take a seat as Luke continues. “As I suspected, Tanner isn’t known to us at all. No criminal record, not even the hint of an arrest. However, I spoke to one of my informants, and he gave me a lead. It’s by no means solid, but the rumors are that he’s selling steroids to young kids desperate for a football career.”
Draven banged the desk. “I fucking knew it.”
I suppress a victorious smile. We have a long way to go before any kind of a celebration is in order, but it’s a start.