Page 25 of Gunner

Gunner shook his head. “Forget it.” He turned to Sylvie. “Tell him what he wants to know.”

Like a petulant child, Gunner leaned against the wall with his arms folded and the biggest scowl on his face.

His anger seemed out of proportion to what had just happened. He was sulking like he didn’t get his way to kill someone. If something so small could trigger him to act rashly—a shiver ran down my spine—how many lives had he taken over the years?

The faster I finished this investigation, the quicker I could get rid of him.

“Sylvie, my apologies for the disturbance caused,” I said. “But this is a matter of urgency. You might have heard Butcher was involved in selling babies. We’re still—”

“I don’t know anything about that.” Sylvie shook her head vigorously. “Butcher and I were done two years ago. We hardly seen each other.”

“But you did see each other.”

“Every now and then. He was a regular paying client, just like everyone else. You can lock me up for prostitution, but I had nothing to do with those children.”

“I am glad you aren’t involved, but those times when you met, did he say anything that might be able to help our case?”

“What do you think, Officer? A man who’s paying for a fuck ain’t gonna be talking about babies he’s selling. We didn’t even see each other that often.”

“What about places? Did he mention anywhere specific about where he’s been?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

Dammit, how was I supposed to get anything out of her? She seemed clueless.

“What about when you two were together?” I asked. “Do you know of any place he liked to go other than his apartment? Somewhere meaningful to him.”

“The clubhouse. He spent most of his time there. Then there’s the meat plant.”

She lowered her gaze and twisted her fingers.

“And?”

“And what?” She sat on the couch, squirming.

“And what aren’t you telling us?” Gunner took something from his pocket and threw it into her lap. She snatched it up and stuffed it between the couch cushions, but I’d seen the white powdery substance in the transparent bag.

I glared at Gunner, but he stared back at me as if daring me to say something.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Sylvie,” he said. “I have an itch I need to get scratched on the way home.”

Sylvie smacked her lips, her gaze fixed on Gunner’s fly. “I can take care of that for you.”

“The information, Sylvie.”

She sighed. “Butcher has a half brother. They never got along before, but all of a sudden, he mentioned them meeting up a couple of times.”

“He has a brother?” I asked.

“I don’t know where exactly, but he mentioned Riverton.”

Fuck. Riverton was out of my jurisdiction.

“Did he happen to mention the brother’s name?”

“I’m not sure of his real name. Just that people call him Paddy.”

Hmm, how many people called Paddy could be living in Riverton?

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