Javier did the same, unfurling it. Inside were two more words. “You’re next,” he read out loud.
“So, they think I’m responsible for the hit on Giordano,” Bowie said, voice barely above a whisper. “Now, they want to kill me for it.”
“They who?” Nicky asked, carefully gathering the scraps to add to another bag.
Bowie stopped short. “I don’t know. His people, maybe?”
Preacher stepped forward. “I think you need to tell us what’s happening, Javier. Maybe start from the beginning.”
Javier looked to Bowie. “It’s not really my story to tell. It’s Bowie’s.”
Odette took Bowie’s hand and squeezed. “You’ve already told a million people who didn’t do shit. Maybe now tell the people who want to help?”
Bowie nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip, his foot flexing nervously. “So, I’m a ballet dancer. About five weeks ago, I was approached by my director, who said a man had seen my performance and was interested in possibly being my sponsor.” At everybody’s confused look, he explained, “It’s like a patron. He gives money to the company in exchange for spending time with me.”
“That sounds like sex work,” Wyatt said, earning a scowl from his husband. “What? It’s true. No offense, Bowie.”
Bowie shrugged. “It’s not supposed to be sexual. It’s just like visiting with your family when they’re in town. Most patrons are rich old ladies who just want to feel like they’re part of the action. This man was the son of an Italian diplomat. His name was Giancarlo Giordano.”
“Was?” Memphis asked.
Bowie nodded but didn’t elaborate. “When I showed up for our initial meetup, things went downhill fast. I knew there was something off about him, about all of it, but I ignored it. I really needed this to go well. Until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” Bowie closed his eyes, the words rushing out of him. “After dinner, he just abruptly told me to get undressed. I was shocked. Weirded out. Confused. There were two other men in the room. I refused, obviously. He beat me up and raped me. His two bodyguards watched and did nothing.”
“Christ,” Cy snarled.
Bowie swallowed, blinking back tears. “I did all the things I was supposed to. I went to the hospital, had a rape kit, talked to the cops. They swore they were going to make sure he paid. But two days later, I get called back in and they say they can’t do anything. His father is a diplomat, and the son has something called diplomatic immunity. I didn’t really know what it meant other than he would get away with raping me. I wasn’t happy, but I just wanted to put it behind me and move on with my life. And that’s when he started stalking me.”
“What a dick,” Lawson mumbled, disgusted.
Bowie gave a tight smile. “It gets worse. He tried to sue me for defamation of character and wanted me arrested for filing a false police report.”
“Tell me this motherfucker’s dead,” Memphis pleaded.
Bowie nodded. “About three weeks ago, I went out with Odette and my other two roommates. He apparently followed me. Somebody fired a shit ton of bullets into his limo, killing Giordano and the driver. The bodyguard in the back is still in a coma.”
“And they think Bowie is the one who did it? How?” Linc asked.
“A ballet dancer with an Uzi sounds like something out of a bad movie,” Wyatt agreed.
Javier ran a hand through his hair. “They don’t think he did it personally. They think he hired somebody to do it. While the cops can’t find any evidence that it’s true, clearly, whoever is upset about his death doesn’t seem to care much about proof.”
“Do you know who actually pulled the trigger?” Cy asked. “If you did hire somebody to do it, nobody would hold it against you, Bowie.”
Cy was looking at Bowie, but Bowie looked to Javier. “I didn’t hire anybody. But I didn’t stop them either.”
“Well, who was it?” Memphis asked.
Javier looked to Linc. “Is this in the vault, man?”
“Ah, fuck,” Lawson drawled.
“My people will keep their mouths shut, you know that.”
Everybody nodded solemnly except Odette, who looked surprised when she found a whole group of men staring at her. “What? You think I’m going to tell somebody that my best friend’s gangbanger boyfriend shot three people? Hardly. I might be a ballerina, but I ain’t no snitch.”
All the eyes that were on Odette suddenly swung to Javier. “Is that what happened?” Linc asked.
“How did you know that?” Bowie whispered to the girl.
