Page 46 of Retribution
“You have to prove someone else did.”
“That’s the best way. I haven’t had the time or energy to do that. I gotta keep this thing running. With Lorcan off making shitty deals, I have to clean up after him too.”
“So,” I drag out the word. “Assuming I believe you. Who else could it be?”
“Isn’t that your job? I told you it’s not me, and I don’t think it’s the O’Malleys, either. Now—Kimmy—work your magic.” Finn waggles his fingers at me like he’s doing a spell.
“Not even a list of suspects?”
“Everyone but me and the O’Malleys. There’s your list. Ta-da!” He smirks at me. “I thought Derry was going to piss himself when we were in his office.”
I laugh at the memory. “The stench of fear was real.” Picking up Finn’s empty plate and my own, I put them into the sink. “Seriously, though. Some kind of list of people you guys deal with? Anything?”
He crosses his arms. “Yeah, okay. I can get you a list of people we deal with.”
My heart makes one loud, triumphant thump in my chest. That list will be gold for my investigation. But it’s not going to help me figure out who killed Chad. “Do the O’Malleys deal with the same people you do?”
Finn’s eyes narrow. “Why?”
“Curiosity.”
“That’ll get you killed.” He points a finger at me. “Take the list I give you and start asking around. Keep it subtle. Accusing people we associate with of murdering our father is a big deal. It could get you killed and put us under fire.”
“I understand that.” My heart deflates a touch because he didn’t give me a straight answer about the O’Malley connections.
“Today, I want you to go back to Zhang’s for me.”
My face screws up with distaste. “Why?” That strip club isn’t high on my list of priorities. Of course, if Malik is working, I can ask him if the bureau knew anything about Chad or about the O’Malley fight ring. Getting him alone without blowing his cover might be tough, though.
“Zhang says he has a better offer. I’m not interested yet, but I don’t want to be completely disrespectful. The Chinese like to save face.”
I clutch my chest and lean back in mock shock. “You know something about Chinese culture?”
“Only what I have to know to do business.” He comes around the island to stand next to me. “Are you game?”
“Alone?”
“Take Antonio, but he can wait in the car. He’s backup.”
I give a slow nod. “Okay. Bring the offer back here?”
“Yes.” Finn searches my face. “Thank you.”
A hint of a smile threatens. “For?”
“Being a good listener. It’s rare.”
The sincerity in his ice-blue eyes takes me by surprise. “Maybe you’re not talking to the right people?”
He chuckles and taps my nose. “Maybe, Kimmy. Maybe.” He turns on his heel and wanders out of the kitchen, whistling the tune that’s been stuck in my head for weeks. I can’t forget it, and yet, I can’t quite remember how it got there. Before I can ask, he’s gone.
Everything he revealed circles as I scrub the dishes. It seems likely he didn’t murder his father. If it wasn’t him, who? And why?
Then there’s Chad’s death. Maybe going to Zhang’s will be good. Maybe Malik will have answers.
Chapter Seventeen
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimness of the strip club. The music playing isn’t a fast tune; God forbid the girls actually have to dance. Their naked bodies sway on the stage. How many of them realize they’re stripping? That there’s a leering audience below them?