Page 70 of Rex

“I have a name and address from a plate number of the car the guy drove off in,” I state.

“Which guy?” he asks in a confused voice.

“Aria’s stalker,” I nearly shout.

“Oh, shit! I thought you were talking about the—it doesn’t matter. Give me the info, and I’ll do a drive-by. See what I can find.”

“The name is Gwen Cartier. No idea who she is, but her plates were on the car he was using,” I say before giving him the address and disconnecting.

I jump up and rush to Pigeon’s office. I want to view the footage myself and see if he’s found anything else. He hasn’t yet, but the guy in the video is definitely the same guy who was at Aria’s place. Pigeon moves out of the way, and I take over his laptop. I send the footage to my laptop and return to my office. I pull up the footage, find what I’m looking for, and then put my skills to work.

Minutes, probably more like hours later, I realize that every business or home with cameras along the way the dirtbag traveled didn’t record anything more than Aria did. Head down, hoodie pulled up, face hidden. I scan each one again to be sure, but the result is the same. In frustration, I pick up and throw my half-drunk Monster can across the room. Not that it helped in the least. I’m still frustrated and now have Monster energy drink dripping down my wall.

“Fuck!” I shout.

“Is this what a techie looks like when he’s having a temper tantrum?” Gunner asks from the doorway.

“Yeah, exactly like this,” Pigeon answers as he pushes past Gunner and enters my office.

“Sometimes he stomps his little feet too,” Reeves adds as he follows the path Pigeon made.

“We keep a box of Kleenex close to mop up his tears,” Horse states as he starts to follow his two stupid coworkers but gets jammed to a stop by our club President’s large body.

I almost smile when I see the irritated look on Gunner’s face that’s aimed at Horse. Horse’s eyebrows draw down in confusion, and I smile when I see Gunner give a little extra push, squeezing Horse against the door jam.

“Why is every single employee of this business in the building and not out on jobs?” Gunner asks while still eyeing Horse.

“Needed them to go through video, Prez,” I answer.

I’m more than a little surprised that Gunner is asking a question like that. He never interferes with how the businesses are run unless there’s a major problem. He leaves the day-to-day stuff up to the manager, and in this case, that’s me.

“Every single one?” he continues to question.

“Yes. I have dozens of security feeds that need to be viewed. Is there a problem?” I ask.

Gunner finally steps aside and lets Horse enter the office. Horse gives me a look that seems to be asking what our Prez’s problemis, but I have no answer for him. Looking back at Gunner, I wait for him to answer my question.

“Chubs said he gave you some information, and you were working on it. Got anything yet?” Gunner asks instead of answering.

“Not much yet. I started on it but haven’t finished,” I answer honestly but not fully.

“It’s top priority, Rex. Work on only that until it’s finished. Need whatever you can find, and I need it yesterday,” Gunner states. “You have extra people, all right here, to help now, so I’ll be expecting it soon.”

I feel my temperature rising at what sounds like criticism. Nobody puts in more hours than I do, but also, nobody knows what my job completely entails. When Axel leaves the gym, his job is done for the day. Same with Petey and the auto shop. Not the same for me. My phone never stops with texts or calls, people needing or wanting something. I keep that to myself and draw in a deep breath instead.

“I’ll get it to you as soon as I have it, Prez,” I reply in an even tone. “But I’m also trying to track down the identity of Aria’s stalker, so I have a full plate even with the additional help.”

“Has he stepped things up with her?” Gunner asks.

“Yes, he has, so I’ve made her a priority too,” I respond, and I’m completely prepared to argue and ignore an order from my president if he disagrees.

Gunner stares at me for a long moment, and I’m waiting for his next comment when he turns and leaves. Looking aroundthe room, I see I’m not the only one who’s confused about his attitude.

“What’s his problem?” Horse finally puts into words what we’re all thinking.

“No idea,” I mutter. “Anyone find anything else?”

All three shake their heads in the negative, and I sigh.

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