Game of Fear (Montgomery Justice #3)(14)

Gabe shook his head. Ernie would do anything for a buck, but he’d come through a few times, so Gabe would humor him. He kept hoping Ernie would spill something big on Gasmerati or Tower and ask for protection. Poor guy was like the town punching bag for bad guys, and one of these times he wouldn’t recover from their torment.

“Hold on. I’ll be back in a minute. Stay hidden.” Gabe retreated, making his way across the lot and into the bar’s kitchen. He grabbed a baggie and filled it with ice, then snagged the sandwich he’d made for himself and stuffed it into a paper bag.

Ernie would never come inside the bar. Said he couldn’t be seen in a cop hangout. This was already too close for the snitch’s liking.

“Here you go.” Gabe walked over to the log pile where Ernie had planted himself and handed him the ice and the dinner.

The snitch’s onyx and gold ring flashed as he pressed the baggie to his swollen eye, the purple, green, and yellow mottling his skin evident in the faint light.

He opened the bag and rammed half the sandwich in his mouth. “Thanks,” he muttered, his words garbled by the huge bite. He chewed some more, swallowed, and looked up at Gabe. “Got something good for you . . . if the price is right. This is the real deal, Montgomery.”

Gabe lifted a brow. “You said that last time—”

“I know. I know, but even I get taken in by liars sometimes. This info’s for real, from my own personal experience.” Ernie looked around suddenly. “Hey, did you hear something?”

Gabe stilled, listening for a minute. “No.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” Ernie’s head whipped back and forth, sniffing the air, like a rodent trying to sense an approaching cat. He bit his lip. “Yeah. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.”

Gabe went on full alert. His gut was telling him he needed this information, and he didn’t want Ernie taking off. Then again, he didn’t want Ernie dead, either. But, damn it, Gabe wanted to take down Tower and the mob bosses he ran with. “You staying or going?”

Ernie pulled a knife out of his pocket and passed it back and forth between jittery hands, his gaze still searching the shadows.

Gabe forced himself not to take the snitch down with a quick twist of an arm. Knives had that effect on him lately.

Finally, Ernie spoke again. “Guess I’m just getting jumpy. Look, I like you, Montgomery. You and your brother Zach saved my life when Tiny and his thugs came after me. I’d have been cougar food in the Rockies by now, so I figure I owe you.”

“I’m listening,” Gabe said.

Ernie scratched his nose. “You know sometimes, I . . . uh . . . courier a few specialty items for Gasmerati.”

Gabe stiffened at the name he knew all too well. And not just because of his current op. Jeff Gasmerati had been cousin to Gabe’s best friend and SWAT teammate, Steve Paretti. Gabe would love to beat the crap out of the traitor, but the guy was already dead.

Steve Paretti might have done the right thing in the end, but that didn’t excuse the lies and treachery that almost cost Gabe half of his family.

Nothing did.

“Something big’s going on,” Ernie said. “Gasmerati’s throwing around wads of cash like he grows it in his backyard.”

“Is he expanding the business?” Gabe asked, shifting on his injured leg.

“I think he’s going international, and he’s keeping it very hush-hush.” Ernie cocked his head. “Any of this worth something to you?”

“Could be.” Gabe shrugged, but his heart sped up. International meant big risks. Big risks meant big rewards, but also a chance to make federal charges stick. With luck, Gabe could nail Gasmerati and maybe even rope in Sheriff Tower and his flunkies, too. “Okay. Tell me everything and we’ll work out a price.”

Ernie looked around again, obviously nervous. “I was at Gasmerati’s building this afternoon, picking up a package to deliver. After I got it, I walked by Jeff’s office. Heard something weird, like an argument. Lots of tension in Gasmerati’s voice, so I slowed down and kind of took my time going past Jeff’s door.”

God bless the curious.

Ernie came closer, whispering the information so Gabe had to strain to hear. “Anyway, Gasmerati’s having it out with somebody on the speakerphone, but there’s another guy in the room with him. A translator, who keeps talking Russian, then repeating everything the guy on the phone says in English.”

Gabe straightened. Russian? Could Gasmerati have tapped the Russian mob? “What did you hear?”

“Something about a transfer of cash. Soon.” Ernie licked his lips. “They used the words billion dollars. Swear to God.”

Gabe let out a low whistle. “What else?”

“The Russian guy seemed upset about a car accident. Jeff said not to worry. He had law enforcement connections. Just then someone came walking into the hallway, and I bolted. I’ve already been on the bad end of too many fists lately for screwing up, so I got the hell out of there.”

And there was the first real proof—even if it was secondhand. Gabe leaned forward. “Did anyone mention where this accident was?”

“Yeah, near Taos. Someone found a bus that went off the road yesterday, but also spotted a car that these guys apparently didn’t want found.”