“Yeah,” he nodded, “that’s the kicker. The group was slapped together by a handful of university students who were more concerned over who they’d get to stick their dick into next and less concerned with keeping things like records. And it’s not like we file taxes. Everything that was signed over to the group was actually signed over to Haroon personally.”
Sila had already figured that much out. When he’d looked, all he’d been able to find was rumor that the Shepards had cleaned out the Delmar bank account. Idle’s three story home had been converted into their clubhouse of sorts, with a few top tier members taking residence on the property. Haroon was one of them.
“I went through Russ’s stuff,” Aneski continued. His older brother had died not long after the Shepards had gotten control of Idle’s assets. “There wasn’t much there about it either. Just old emails sent to other group members about moving and how Haroon had come into some money and was using that for renovations.”
Haroon Caddel, Russ Onus, and Bowser Kita were the three founding members of the Shepards. Russ had disappeared after a fight with the Brumal and Bowser had supposedly graduated last year and moved to the other side of the planet for a tech position in a large firm. That left only Haroon to head the group.
“Look,” Aneski said, “I remember when that all went down. It was sad that a little old lady kicked the bucket, and even worse when it was discovered she’d gambled away everything to her name and left her grandson penniless, but that shit goes down all the time. The Shepards roll in dirty money.”
They had several small gambling dens cropped around the outskirts of the city. Sila wasn’t sure if the Brumal were aware and merely turning the other cheek because they made petty coin in comparison to what the officially run casinos the Voids owned did, or if they hadn’t yet sniffed them out.
If it was the latter, there was a chance Sila could use that information to his advantage and approach Baikal for a deal. He chuckled at the ridiculousness of his own thoughts, waving that it was unimportant when that had Aneski giving him an odd look.
Aside from it keeping him entertained, there was no reason for Sila to be this invested in whatever may or may not have gone down between Idle and Haroon. He’d felt nothing when he’d taken in all the framed photos of Bay and his grandmother hanging on the aged, yellowing walls. It’d been clear he’d found the missing piece, the thing needed to force Bay’s hand, but he hadn’t cared about a dead woman or how she’d come to be that way.
Then Bay’s eyes had lit up like tiny infernos and he’d glared down his nose at Sila—not meekly, like those other times before when he’d been trying to hide how turned on he was. A real, full-on glare filled with derision and rage.
Bay felt wronged.
Bysomeone else.
Sila didn’t like it. He didn’t understand why it bothered him, but it did, and that was enough to make him want to remedy the situation. So, he’d figure this out for Bay and get him the answers he needed to finally move on and get to play with him a few more times in the process.
Afterward, when he was bored and over it, he’d toss Bay back like he did every other used plaything and move on.
That odd sensation in his chest returned and he frowned at himself.
“All I’m saying,” Aneski said, “is you might want to consider that Haroon was telling the truth. The lawyers all sided with him when Professor Delmar tried to fight it.”
Bay had used up what meager savings he’d had left to hire the best lawyer he could for that case too. He’d lost miserably and now he was living in a dilapidated monstrosity, sharing space with countless vermin.
Sila wasn’t a neat freak by any definition, but after the third black blobby creature scurried across the warped floorboards in his peripheral vision, he’d had more than enough of that death trap waiting to happen.
He’d need to relocate Bay. There was no way Sila was going to be comfortable playing with him there.
“Are you listening to me?” Aneski huffed.
“It’s impossible to find any traces of Idle gambling because three years ago the Shepards didn’t even have the small pop-up dens they have now. Everything was run from tents. Meaning no security footage to hack into and absolutely no records stored on any hard drives,” Sila stated. “Of course I considered looking into whether or not she was actually gambling. It’s an impossible task, hence why I needed you in the first place.”
“All right.” He held up both hands in the sign of surrender. “Fair.”
“Bay has copies of the official documents at his place,” that disgusting hell hole of a place, “but I need to see the ones Haroon has as well.”
“You think he kept them?” Aneski asked. “If he did, the only place I can think to look is his private office. No one is allowed in there and it requires a key code to even get the door open.”
Sila had originally told Aneski to look for receipts on how the money was spent, but since that was a dead-end, he’d start at the beginning and work his way through it all on his own. “You don’t need to enter to get what we need.”
He lifted a brow in silent question.
“You wear contacts, correct?” Sila asked even though he already knew the answer.
Corrective surgery was common, but like most of the members of the Shepards, Aneski didn’t come from money. The surgery was more expensive than simply wearing contacts and few people in the lower or middle classes on Vitality bothered getting it.
“Do you ever wear glasses?” he added before he could get a reply.
“Yeah, sometimes,” Aneski said. “Why?”
Kelevra Diar had a computer eye in place of his real one which allowed him to access any tech within a ten-foot radius. Obviously Sila couldn’t ask the guy for his eye, but it’d been created off the blueprints of a similar product that was more accessible.
