Page 50 of Gunner

“I don’t know why—”

Gunner smacked him on the back of his head. “Stick to answering the questions.”

Paddy rubbed the spot. “Murray’s & Associates.”

“You been working there long?”

“The past four years. What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m curious how you’re able to afford all this.”

“If you knew anything about investment, you wouldn’t be surprised.”

I let it go. For now. “When was the last time you spoke to your brother?”

“My brother and I are estranged. We haven’t spoken to each other in years.”

He was lying, but why? To not have whatever Butcher did ruin everything he’d built or because he didn’t want us to knowhe had business with his brother? A business that would be lucrative enough for him to afford this place.

“What if we told you we have a witness who can testify you recently met with your brother before his demise?”

Paddy sucked in a deep breath. “I want to call my lawyer.”

“You are involved in the whole scheme, aren’t you, Paddy? Tell us what happened, and we’ll offer you a deal. The people at the top of this operation are the ones we really want.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I know my rights. Until I speak with my lawyer, I have nothing further to say to you.”

“You sure about that, Paddy? Because the more uncooperative you are, the harsher the penalty will be when we eventually shut down this little business.”

Paddy kept his lips tightly pursed. This was the closest we’d come to finding someone with information that could help this case. Frustrated, I rose to my feet. “Do you know how easy it is to get a warrant and shake every skeleton out of your closet?”

He wasn’t biting. I couldn’t force him to talk either. What the fuck to do now?

“Need a little help?” Gunner asked. “I can make him sing like Tweety bird.”

But his way wasn’t the right way.

“You stay here, and I’ll take him into the bathroom for a while,” Gunner said. “If you don’t see it, there’s no saying for sure what happened.”

“Who the hell are you?” Paddy gripped the sides of his chair.

“I’m the one who doesn’t mind doing the things he can’t do.” Gunner grinned. “So we’ll ask you again. When did you last speak with Butcher, and what do you know about the babies that were being sold?”

“You’re a cop,” Paddy spat at me. “You can’t stand there and watch him torture me for false information. That’s against the law.”

I clenched my teeth. He couldn’t have said anything worse to me. Men like him used the loopholes in the law to protect themselves and carry out further atrocities.

“Do it,” I said to Gunner. “Make him tell you everything he knows.”

14

GUNNER

Found an old photo of Gunner and me in our teens. Nostalgia's a cruel torturer.

Paddy lay on the floor in a fetal position, moaning and bleeding all over the pristine white tiles of his expensive bathroom he’d most likely paid for with the money he’d made from selling those babies. He hadn’t confessed it yet, but he was about to. A man could only stand his head being flushed down the toilet so many times before he broke. No way in hell was he able to afford a place like this on the job he claimed to have. If anything, that job would help him to clean the dirty money he would have earned from this sickening trade.

Through my club, I knew enough about laundering money to see the pattern.

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