Page 73 of Winter's End

The building was a generic strip mall with seedy underpinnings, and I grimaced internally. Of course, Boxer Boy wouldn’t have recommended someone in a nice corner office with a high retainer. This looked more like something out ofBetter Call Saul.

The investigator’s appearance did nothing to sway me from my initial judgments. Cheap suit, greasy hair, and stained teeth. A slime-ball.

“Take a seat.” Douglas motioned to a battered metal office chair in front of his worn wooden desk. His computer looked like it still ran on DOS.

Unbuttoning my suit jacket, I obliged.

“What brings a rich, trust fund baby here to see me?”

Douglas pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one with a match. He blew blue smoke into the air like we were all happy to die of fucking cancer and cocked a bushy eyebrow at me.

Ignoring him, I threw the brown file folder on his desk.

“I need you to dig up some dirt on this man. I need recent dirt, but I’ll take everything you can find.”

Doug opened the file and scrutinized the photos of Carson Baker on his desk. They were newspaper printouts from the Business Profile pages, highlighting the insufferable twit’s success since he’d moved home.

I had made my success because I worked hard and made savvy business decisions. Carson’s success came from a combination of fear and his daddy’s money.

The seedy detective leaned back in his chair and rested his hands atop his burgeoning pot belly.

“What’s my motive? Did he do something to you? A spurned lover, perhaps?”

The question caught me by surprise and I barked out a chuckle. The balls on this guy. A spurned lover …

“He’s a rapist, a sexual predator, and a thug who hides behind his father’s influence.”

Doug’s eyes darkened. He sneered and spit a wad of phlegm into the garbage can beside his desk.

Charming.

“How soon do you need the information?”

“Yesterday,” I confirmed and stood to leave, ready for this conversation in the disgusting office to be over. “I’ll pay double your rate for your speed and discretion.”

Doug stood as well. I was grateful he didn’t stick his hand out to shake. Gross.

“All right.” He tugged at his waistline to pull his pants up before adding, “I’ll call you at the end of the week to update you on my progress.”

I bobbed my head in acknowledgment and quickly made my escape to my clean car. This visit served two purposes: enoughdirt to get him off the deed of my property, and the evidence needed to get the psychopath sent to prison once and for all.

Out of habit, I reached for my glove compartment to pull out my old vice of choice, but it was empty. I sighed, wishing I could snort some of the delicious cocaine that had been my companion for so long without the side effects. I had come this far, though, and I would not fuck it up.

For me, or for my girl. She didn’t deserve a drug-addled asshole for a boyfriend.

Whether she’d confirm that, I didn’t care. She was mine now.

I pulled out a pack of mint gum instead and chewed the shit out of it; the spearmint flavor did fuck-all to tame my coke craving, but it would have to do.

I glanced at my watch. I had three more meetings to get to before I met with Chase again for a good sparring session. The muscled oaf was growing on me, and he was the best fighting partner I’d ever had—even if he sucker punched me in the kidney last week.

I liked it when he fought dirty.

I drove out of the parking lot to get on with my day, content for the first time in years. Carson was going to be taken out for good, and Winter had finally let me in.

For the first time in a long time, I had something to live for.

CHAPTER 20

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