Page 39 of Playing A Risk
Was that the woman who got Dori’s belongings from her loft?
My intuition screams in my ear. He knows where Dori is—there’s no doubt in my mind. If he didn’t, he would’ve asked me if I had found her yet. And if my suspicions have been right all along, he’s been having her followed.
Bingo!
Two can play that game. I sit on a bench to recover and text Mateo, asking him if he knows anyone who could do surveillance in the area.
Since he owns a shit-ton of sex clubs around the world, he sometimes has to track down people who have done not-so-legal things in his clubs. He can’t use the police or local authorities because it could risk the privacy of the other very powerful members.
I’ve never asked Mateo what he does once he finds the people who break the rules, but something tells me he doesn’t sit down and play cards with them.
He responds within minutes.
Mateo: This guy is the best in your area. Joe Ison. I’ll send his contact card in a minute.
Fuck!
Of course, it would be him. Fuck my luck.
Me: Don’t bother. I need someone else.
Mateo: Why? And please tell me this has nothing to do with Hunter.
Me: Why would you think that?
Mateo: Last time I saw him, he was asking about you. I can’t say he had kind words. It doesn’t look good, considering you’re building something that will revolutionize the gaming industry for him. Makes me believe you pissed him off.
Pissed isn’t a strong enough word.
Me: When and where did you see him?
Mateo: The exclusive gentleman’s club the night after I hung out with you last. He was shit-faced, so I took everything he said with a grain of salt. I doubt he remembers it. He had some woman sitting in his lap. But if you’ve done something to make him angry, my advice is to straighten it out. He can be ruthless when it comes to his business. Be careful.
Me: This isn’t about business. This is personal. I can’t use Joe. Hunter already had him dig up information about me. I need someone else. Someone who can be a ghost.
Mateo: Shit, Jamison. You don’t know what you’ve started. I’ll send you a contact, but do not use my name. The code phrase is, When in France. Now, delete this message and never write it down.
Me: Consider it done. Thanks.
I lean back and glance around the room with a strange heaviness weighing on me. A few minutes later, I get a text from an unknown number. I open the message and my ghost’s contact number shines up at me. Pierre is his name. That and his number are all I receive.
Mateo: I forgot. Use a different phone than yours to contact him. You don’t want to be traceable.
With that, the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
Do I want to do this?
I don’t know what choice I have. I can’t use Aiden or Joe. Pierre is my only hope.
I press off the bench and gather my stuff. I’m on my way out of the gym when Hunter finishes his run.
He steps off the treadmill and stalks toward me. “Jamison, can I have a word with you?”
“I guess.”
“I wanted to let you know Jonah and I are off for the next two weeks. Of course, we’ll be reachable by phone and email if you need us, but we won’t be in the office. Hailey’s off as well, but that shouldn’t affect you.”
I study him for a hint that he knows where Dori is. “It shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll plan on working from home.”
