“I don’t know if that makes me feel any better,” Day said.
Jackson grinned and slapped a kiss on Day’s forehead. “As long as it doesn’t make you feel worse.”
“I got nothing.”
“Since when is ‘I got nothing’ an acceptable answer?” Jackson asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he glanced over to where Day stood on the balcony, phone in the air, making peace signs and smiling into the camera.
“Okay,” Webster said. “Will you accept ‘I have nothing useful’?”
Jackson sighed. “Then tell me what you found that isn’t useful.”
Sometimes, it felt as if the people working for him deliberately tried to goad him into losing his shit. That’s just not who he was as a person. It never had been. Anger never helped a situation. Ever. It only added fuel to the fire. Years of watching his father and mother argue had taught him that. They had both been stubborn and foul tempered and neither was ever willing to admit fault, at least to each other. Luckily, his parents hadn’t taken the same approach with their children.
“I traced the username back to a sockpuppet account and a stolen credit card. They’ve been using it for months, but the person it belongs to seems to have fallen off the face of the earth, which I’m guessing is a bad sign and also why they haven’t reported their card stolen.”
Jackson’s gaze pulled back to Day, unease tugging at his insides. Would this anonymous stranger be willing to kill to get to Day? Did the district attorney’s death even have anything to do with his job, or could this person be trying to take out anybody he perceived as competition? It could explain his fury over Day’s video. Or not. It was all just supposition at this point.
“Jack? You still there?” Webster called, his voice taking on a singsong tone.
“Yeah. Listen, I need you to do a deep dive into Day’s followers. Cross reference his accounts and make a list of his most active users. Find out which ones live close by. Also, this user sent Day six thousand dollars that’s sitting in his CashApp account. See if you can trace it to a bank or credit company and see if it matches our sockpuppet. Also, keep this between us. I don’t want Day finding out.”
Webster snorted. “Now what will we talk about while we paint each other’s nails?” he snarked before adding, “You know I’ve never even laid eyes on this guy, right? Okay, well, I’ve definitely laid my eyes on him. All of him.” Jackson growled at the thought of Webster laying anything on Day. “Hey, I’m kidding. You and this kid tight or something? I’m just saying, why would I say anything to him?”
“Not him. I’ll talk to him. Anybody else. Elite has more leaks than theTitanic.You tell Linc and he’ll tell Wyatt, and then Wyatt and Charlie will somehow weasel their way into Day’s DMs, and my life will become a shit show.”
Webster snickered. “I never thought you’d be afraid of the twink and the dink. What do you think they’ll do? Trick you into falling in love with your little shutterbug?”
“Shutterbug?” Jackson asked, deliberately ignoring Webster’s baiting.
“Yeah. He’s having a field day snapping photos of himself on your balcony. Hashtag beautiful day, hashtag smile, hashtag hello sunshine, hashtag hustle,” Webster said around a laugh.
Jackson smiled as he looked out on the balcony once more, but his smile died as he noted that Day wasn’t smiling at all. He was now lying on one of Jackson’s lounge chairs, knees tucked under his chin as he gazed out over the railing, looking like the weight of the world rested on his narrow shoulders. How much of Day’s online life was just theatre? Was he ever really happy? Did he love camming as much as he said he did? “Just get it done, and let me know the second you have anything that could help me.”
Webster’s joking tone disappeared. “You’re the boss.”
Once Jackson disconnected, he watched Day in profile. He leaned his head back, teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, and gazed out at the clear blue sky. Day had gone upstairs after they’d watched their movie the night before, Jackson following closely behind, reaching the top step only to hear Day’s bedroom door lock click into place. Jackson hadn’t been surprised, but he had been more than a little disappointed. More than anything, he wanted a chance to catch Day just being himself, not the caricature of himself he played for the audience, even if that Day was surly and argumentative and mercurial. Jackson wanted it. But Day was slippery. Just when Jackson thought Day might be warming up to him, the claws came out.
Jackson wandered to the sliding glass doors and pulled them open. Day looked up, eyes going wide, before he wiggled his fingers at Jackson in a hello. Day wore shorts that barely covered his ass and an old t-shirt with no sleeves that were cut down the sides. He looked sexy as hell, and the coy look and sly smile he gave Jackson told him Day knew it, too.
Jackson took the chair beside him. “Everything go okay online last night?” Did he sound jealous? “No problems with any of your…clients?”
Day’s smile disappeared, and he went back to looking out over the city once more. “No. It was slow last night. I only made fifty bucks. None of my regulars were there.”
“Maybe you should take some time off?” Jackson regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. The last thing they needed was Day taking time off, especially if he was the intended target, but Jackson hated the idea of putting a bullseye on his back.
Day scowled. “I can’t afford to take time off. Do you have any idea how much my piece of shit apartment costs in rent?”
The offer to pay Day’s bills was on the tip of Jackson’s tongue, but he knew Day would be furious at such a suggestion. The idea of taking Jackson’s money would definitely push him over the edge.
“Do you think your client could have had anything to do with that DA’s murder?” Jackson asked, trying to make his tone as casual as possible.
Day’s head whipped to Jackson, his pale face turning ghost white. “Is…is that what they think? They think this is my fault?”
Jackson’s brows knitted together. “None of this is your fault. This isn’t about fault. It’s about finding out who’s responsible before somebody else gets hurt. Somebody like you.”
“Tell me the truth. Do they think this guy killed Jay because of me?” Day asked, breathless.
Jackson shook his head. “No. They still think it has something to do with his caseload. I’m just trying to run down every possible lead, and your client was very unhappy about seeing me in your video.”
