“You’re braver than I gave you credit for,” I say, watching him closely.
He nods but doesn’t say anything.
“You’re taking a risk coming here.”
“I realize that,” Iggy replies. His voice stays steady, but the tension in his jaw gives him away. “I have information you might find helpful. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
“Let’s hear it,” I say, crossing my arms and leaning forward slightly. My tone stays casual, but my attention locks in. I watch his face, the small movements people make when they’re deciding how much they’re willing to give.
He clears his throat. “Look, I know I’m not exactly in your circle. But when I heard about Coco being taken, and that her father was being framed for your father’s murder…”
He trails off, catching himself. I tip my chin once, giving him permission to continue.
His hand runs over his jaw, lingering near the bruise. “I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I saw something that night. Outside the warehouse on Burgundy.”
I keep my expression neutral, though my pulse picks up. “What did you see?”
“Two men standing guard,” he says. His voice steadies as he talks, like the facts are grounding him. “I recognized them right away. They’re Duvall’s guys. No doubt about it. They’ve worked for him for years.”
My jaw tightens, but I keep my voice even. “You’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “Their names are Ronnie and Dane. They’re the kind of men who don’t ask questions. Seeing them there didn’t make sense at first, but now…” He exhales. “Now it does.”
I make a low sound in my throat as I work through it. By the time I got there, the exterior had been clear. No guards. No watchers. If Duvall’s men were posted earlier, that raises questions I don’t like but can’t ignore.
I nod slowly, filing the names away. “And that’s all you saw?”
Iggy hesitates, and the air in the room tightens with it.
“Not exactly,” he says.
I straighten slightly. “Then don’t stop there.”
He swallows. “There were more people moving in and out. I didn’t recognize most of them. And cars I didn’t know. I didn’t stay long, but long enough to know Duvall had eyes on that place before things went bad.”
Something clicks into place. The gaps I’ve been circling finally close.
I lean back, studying him. “Timing matters,” I say. “When was this?”
“Right around ten,” he answers. “Thursday night.”
I nod. That tracks. Too well. At ten, my father was still alive, because he died in front of me several hours later. Whoever was there wasn’t reacting. They were preparing.
I sit with that for a moment, letting it settle.
“Do you think you could prove it?” I ask finally.
Iggy stiffens. “How.”
I lean back farther, my chair creaking softly. “Faces,” I say. “Names.”
My stomach tightens as I think about the photos. The ones Coco tried to keep from me. The ones I’ve been carrying around like answers I wasn’t ready to look at.
“Wait here,” I say, standing. I cross the room and open the safe, punching in the code without hesitation. The envelope is exactly where it should be. I bring it back to the desk and lay the photos out in front of him.
“Show me.”
Iggy studies them carefully, his fingers hovering over each image until they stop. “That’s Dane,” he says. “That’s Ronnie.”
