Page 52 of Hunt Me
“Don’t pull that shit, Jack. Just look at the angle of the knife. Unless she’s a goddamn Amazon, a man made the killing blow.”
He shrugged. “Funny how you know a lot about the weapons and angle. Forensics will tell us. They’ve yet to finish their investigation.”
“I want to know the second they do and their findings. No one else will know. Did you find a goddamn pizza somewhere in the house?” My words dripped of sarcasm.
“Just the sauce and toppings.” He grinned as if any of this was remotely funny.
“What about the murder weapon? Any prints?”
Jack eyed me for a few seconds as if unwilling to tell me.
“Need I remind you who augments your salary?” I threw out.
“Jesus Christ, Mikhail. We’re talking about a murder here.” He glanced from side to side. Obviously, he didn’t want anyone to know I’d put his daughter through college.
“You’re exactly right. We are. Now, talk. Did you find any goddamn fingerprints?”
He ran his finger under the collar of his cheap white shirt and inched closer. “Like I said, forensics are still working on the house. But the murder weapon is mostly clean.”
“What do you mean mostly?”
“We have a partial, but forensics is doubtful the print will be useful.”
I sucked in my breath. “Then the murderer could be an amateur.”
“Maybe. There are some definite oddities about the case already.”
“I need to look through the house myself.” Sergio held master files of every person involved in both our legal and illegal betting opportunities under my direction. The list detailed who owed us money, who’d dared to try to steal from the house, as well as dark proclivities. It was important to keep track of anyone who could provide us with… favors. Almost no one knew he kept what he’d called a little black book. While blackmail was rarely used, I’d learned from the man himself that assurances that people would stay in line were required in our business.
Both legal and illegal.
Proclivities never lied. Neither did art. And debt was required to be paid. If I knew Sergio, he not only kept electronic files, he also kept a printed one in case we were hacked. I’d tasked him myself with keeping the information off our properties. If the motherfucking Irish discovered the information, they would use it to their benefit and against us. Fuck. This was a shit storm.
With my head cocked, I narrowed my eyes. “What in the fucking hell is going on?”
He laughed. “You’ll get a better idea when you see the video.”
“Does anyone else know about this?”
“Not so far.”
“Then keep it that way until I tell you otherwise. I’m not fucking around about this, Jack. I will find the person responsible myself.”
“Just hold on, Mikhail. You can’t be a vigilante. This is a case for the Las Vegas police.”
When I crowded his space, he threw up his hands.
“Okay. Okay. Come with me.” He kept his voice low and guided me toward Sergio’s office, closing the door behind us. “Keep in mind I shouldn’t be showing you this. I could get fired.”
The man could have a bullet in his brain if he fucked with me. “Get on with it.”
“Okay. Okay. I don’t know what to make of the video and was hoping you had some idea.”
“Fine, but I won’t make any promises. Let me see what you’re talking about.”
He cued it up while I studied Sergio’s office. The room had been untouched so apparently whoever had killed him wasn’t worried about being seen on camera or hadn’t taken the time to search the rest of the house. While threats were typical of our operation, recently there’d been nothing overt. I studied the massive computer system he had. They’d been locked down, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been a hack.
Although Jax Shane’s timing inside the casino had been far too coincidental. Perhaps I should have handled a full interrogation of the man.
