Page 3 of The King's Boy

He was definitely flirting with me.

I just didn't know what to do with that. It wasn't like I was unfamiliar with people flirting with me, but never so brazenly and definitely never from someone I was interrogating.

"Maybe later," I replied. "Right now, I need to deal with this Darren situation. Your friend is bringing drugs into my territory, a large amount of drugs. I can't allow that."

The flirty look fell off of Spencer's face and he squinted at me. "Your territory?"

I nodded. "All of Queens."

"Just who are you?"

I heard a muffled snort behind me, but I ignored it. "Angus King."

Spencer just continued to stare at me as if he had never heard my name. Granted, I had only been in the United States for about six weeks, but I would have expected my name to get around a little more than this.

"You could say that I am in charge of Irish business here in Queens." Saying I was the head of the Irish mob just sounded pretentious. "I'm not really concerned with the small-time dealers on every street corner, but the amount of drugs your friend was sending through my area is of great concern to me."

Those bonehead O'Donnells had been deep into selling drugs. I was trying to clean that scene up. Yes, it made money, but the pitfalls of operating a drug empire were too great. I had other ideas on how to make money. Some of them were not quite legal, but they held less of a prison sentence if we were caught.

"You're the head of the Irish mob?"

I smirked at the disdain I could hear in Spencer's voice. "You could say that."

Spencer's eyes rolled. "Can I go now?"

He did not seem impressed by who I was. Big surprise there. Unless you were in my line of business, most people were unimpressed or terrified.

Spencer didn't look terrified.

"Have you told us everything?" I expected Spencer to say yes and run for the door. I did not expect him to frown and rub his chin. "Spencer?"

"Okay, look, I'm not trying to tattle on anyone, but I hate drugs. I've lost too many friends to their addictions."

"I understand that."

"Look into a guy name Harry. I don't know his last name, but he hangs out at that bar I told you about. Red hair, looks like he hasn't shaved in a few days, and he tends to get really loud when he drinks."

"And why should I look into this man?"

"I've seen him and Darren have several conversations together over the last few days. He usually waits until the two of them are alone or they talk in low voices so I can't hear them. Darren also gets phone calls from Harry in the middle of the night. I always suspected that they were up to something, but I never dreamed it was drugs, and especially not on this scale."

"Has Darren been hanging out with anyone else?" I asked.

"No one that sticks out," Spencer replied, "but I don't exactly keep track of his social life. It's hard enough keeping track of my own."

That was another thing I was curious about, but refused to ask about. Spencer intrigued me simply because he didn't seem scared of me. That didn't happen often.

"Give me your phone."

Spencer batted his eyelashes at me once again as he handed his phone over. "Oh, dirty phone calls?"

I sighed heavily as I tried to keep myself from replying. I doubt it would do me any good. Spencer would probably take whatever I said—yes or no—and run with it.

I typed in my phone number and then sent myself a text so I'd have his before handing the phone back. "Call me if you think of anything else."

"I can think of a lot of things."

I was going to strangle him. "Spencer."