Page 97 of Love on the Line

“Don’t know his name. Met him in the alley. He paid cash, and I didn’t ask questions.”

“Paid you full, up front?”

“No motherfucker’s that stupid.” Moe Dog waved a hand. “Half up front, said the rest would come after.”

John nodded. “Describe him.”

Moe Dog shook his head. “It was dark, so I didn’t see his face. Just a normal size dude.”

“Not helpful.” John scoffed. “You’re giving me nothing. We’re done. I’m taking you both in.”

Moe Dog grabbed John’s arm as he raised out of the chair. “Wait, there’s more.”

“Thought so. Now stop fucking with me.” John eased back down.

“I didn’t see much, cuz the dude had on a long coat and a hat. He gave me an envelope. Told us not to hurt the bitch, only the guy.”

Rage snapped Wyatt’s slim hold on self-control, and he yanked Moe Dog up by the shirt. Before he could smash his fist into the bastard’s face, John caught his arm and shoved him back into his seat. John’s eyes flashed, and he scanned the room behind Wyatt.

Moe Dog tugged his shirt down and held a hand up to someone, shaking his head.

Wyatt’s body quaked and he took a deep breath. John had warned him to keep his cool. They didn’t need a brawl. He gave John a quick I’m-on-board now nod.

Moe Dog glared at Wyatt before turning back to John. “The guy was fucking crazy. We did what he asked. He gave me three-fourths of the pay off and said Louie was gonna get his separately. Next thing we know, Louie’s dead.”

John rubbed his chin. “You think he killed Louie. Why?”

“Dude was pissed that Louie slapped the bi”—Moe Dog’s gaze darted to Wyatt, then back to John—“girl, and said people paid for not following orders. That’s all I know, man.”

John drummed his fingers on the table. “I’m gonna make a deal with you.”

“What kind of deal?”

“I need the name of the fourth guy in your operation. That’s not negotiable. And you tell me where your boss is. After you three ID him, we’ll discuss your charges.”

“What kind of shit deal is that?” A vein bulged in Moe Dog’s neck.

“The best offer you’re gonna get. So, where is he?”

Moe Dog shrugged. “No idea.”

John stared him down, and tension crackled between them.

Charlie finally spoke, “He wasn’t from around here, but we can do some digging. And yeah, I’ll ID the fucker if you bring him in.” He shot a look at Moe Dog, as if daring him to say anything. “Louie was my cousin.”

Wyatt’s stomach flipped. They’d have at least one sure ID.

John picked up his phone. “Gimme your full names and numbers, including your fourth man who’s not here. None of this nickname bullshit, and don’t even think about leaving town. I got eyes all over this place. If I don’t get a lead on this guy in a week, I’m taking you both downtown. If I get a fake, you’ll be riding wheelchairs instead of bikes.”

Moe Dog scowled but gave John the information and slunk out of the bar with Charlie.

Wyatt massaged his temple, his head hurting. “I’m floored. No idea what any of this is about.”

“These thugs are scared shitless of whoever killed Capello. That’s why they won’t give him up. They’ll ID him, but they won’t be the snitches to turn him in. It’d be suicide.” John glanced at the bikers getting louder at the bar. “Time to leave.”

Trish came over to their table and stopped next to John. “You guys want another round?”

“Nope. Just the tab,” John said.