Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)(72)
“He was at Spanky’s.”
I looked at Bax across the dark interior of the car. He had one hand on the wheel and was tucking an unlit cigarette between his lips with the other. His heavy brows were lowered in concern and there was a telltale tick behind that black ink by his eye.
“Why was he at Spanky’s instead of the club on a Saturday night?” Belatedly I wondered if all the hundreds of thousands of dollars we had been funneling through the club had managed to survive the inferno.
Bax cut me a hard look and lit his smoke.
“I imagine he was there for the same reasons you were kicking the shit out of some dumb-ass college kid instead of being at home with your lady.”
“He’s worried about the girls.”
“Yeah, more like one girl in particular. No one wants all of this shit to land on the girls, our girls in particular. We need to figure out who’s behind it. No one is coming forward, no one is making moves on the Point, it’s just like they want you guys to know they can get to you, they can mess with you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. It seems like it’s all one, big, seriously f*cked-up game.”
It didn’t feel like a game. It felt like life and death. It felt like rocks in my gut and fury in my blood. The Point wasn’t much, it was hard to justify wanting to fight for it, to keep it alive after all the misery and pain it had brought to so many. But it was mine. It was home. It might be a kingdom no one else wanted to reign over—but I was going to do it until it killed me, and I wasn’t going to let some unknown intruder tear it apart from the inside out. Not if I could help it.
While I pondered what my next step should be, I sent Stark a text message asking him to dig up every single thing he could on Drew Donner. It was the first solid name I had to go on. I just hoped something finally came out of it so I could put all that was going on with Brysen to bed.
When we pulled up in front of the warehouse, the scene was like something out of a movie. The old factory had never been very pretty, the graffitied walls and crumbling brick providing perfect camouflage for all of the excess and debauchery housed inside the disintegrating walls. Now it looked even worse. The walls that were still standing were charred black, the metal fixtures twisted and melted, all of the barred windows were broken out, and the entire building was a burned-out shell of brick and mortar. The smell of smoke and something far worse permeated the air. There were cop cars everywhere, and I tried not to cringe when I saw more than one coroner van parked in front of the wreckage.
Bax and I both climbed out of the car, a heavy silence floating between the two of us as we watched the emergency crews rush around. I didn’t see Nassir anywhere, but Bax let out a low whistle and inclined his head in the direction of where Titus’s nondescript sedan was parked. The detective and my errant business partner were standing together and they both had looks of absolute fury etched on their faces. Titus was talking rapidly and gesturing with his hands, Nassir was staring fixedly at what used to be his club. His jaw was working back and forth, and even with the distance between us, as Bax and I made our way over to them, I could see the fury blazing in his caramel-colored eyes.
“This is no joke. We’re talking military-grade explosives, Nassir. This goes beyond a couple of bodies in a back alley. They’ve pulled out six people so far. None of them are any older than Dovie, for God’s sake. This isn’t just going to get swept under the rug.”
A tick worked its way into Nassir’s jaw and his gaze shifted to me and then back to the destroyed building.
“It shouldn’t get swept under the rug. Find out who’s behind it, cop.”
That didn’t sound good and there was no way Titus was going to locate the culprit and turn him over to Nassir for him to render his own form of justice. Bax’s brother didn’t operate by the rules of the Point, he only cared about the law.
“How did he even get in?” I asked the question to both of them but Titus was the one to answer.
He turned to look at us and reached up to pull the knot of his tie loose. He ran his hands through his hair and bit out, “Not in, on. The point of origin appears to be the roof of the building. It looks like there was an explosion on the roof and then a series of smaller explosions detonated inside the building, which is why there are so many casualties. Surprisingly, this guy”—he hooked his thumb in Nassir’s direction—“actually had the place completely up to fire code. The sprinkler system kept the body count to a minimum.”
Six people dead wasn’t a minimum as far as I was concerned, and I could see by the way Nassir’s eyebrows dipped down over his blazing eyes that he didn’t think so either.
“One of the dancers called me and told me that there was a rowdy group of guys at Spanky’s. She said Chuck had his hands full, and that they were scared. I got to the strip club and wasn’t even in the door when I got the call that the Pit was on fire. Whoever is doing this didn’t want me here. This was a setup so I could watch everything I have worked for burn to the ground.”
Titus sighed and I asked, “All the money?”
Nassir shook his head and pushed off the sedan. “The money is fine. I’m a cautious man by nature. That’s how I’ve managed to stay alive so long.” He cut a hard look at Titus. “I’m serious, cop. If you get a name, I want it.”
Titus didn’t say anything as Nassir wandered off with his phone pressed tightly to his ear. I looked at Bax, who exchanged a look with his brother and shrugged.