“Get it now,” I order. We’re not coming back here a second time.
“I don’t have the code, but my dad has a terrible memory, so it’s written down somewhere. I just have to search for it.”
Niki rolls his eyes. “Boy, go and get the money before I go down to the office myself.”
The kid stares at us, his hands balled in fists, but he knows better than to use them. After a few tense moments, he spins on his heel. I’m halfway through a new episode ofSlow Horseswhen he returns, money in his hand.
“You got a good relationship with your old man?” I ask as Niki counts the money.
“What’s it to you?” The kid sticks out his chin.
“Just curious. If you were missing, how long would it take for him to report it?”
“My dad would be on your ass before you could clear the gates,” he retorts.
“Noted.”
Niki holds up the stack. “We’re good. You should give up that nose habit. Probably make your dad happy.”
“Who do you think got me hooked?” the boy says sourly.
“Maybe we were better off without dads,” Niki remarks as we reach the river. The last two collections were easy. I only had to throw one punch before the gas station owner handed over his payment. I always think I can’t be surprised by people, but this guy was using a photo of his wife and two little girls to cut his blow. How could he look at his family and then proceed to do the very thing that would hurt them?
“Thinking you’re right.”
Five Pipes are lounging in front of the noodle shop situated not far from the strip club. The oldest one straightens up from the wall of the building when he sees us approach. The others scramble to their feet and then take off running.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. I hate running, but I speed after them. Niki takes care of two of the slowpokes while I race after the leader. If we take him out, the others will fall in line. He heads toward the river. It’s rocky down here, and I have to watch where I’m going so I don’t trip and fall.
The two others fall off, and I leave them for Niki, but the leader forges head, scampering over the terrain like he’s a friggin’ goat. He finally stumbles about a mile in. My heart feels like it’s on fire, and so I’m extra pissed when I reach him.
His hands go up to shield his face. “No, wait. I’ve got something to trade.”
I tighten my grip on his T-shirt until the collar starts choking him. “Not interested.”
“One of our guys is missing.”
“What’s that got to do with us?” Niki’s voice says over my shoulder.
The guy says through his raised arms, “I saw him with that dead kid, Cole. They were exchanging money. Maybe making bets. I don’t know.”
I drop my fist. “You’ve got our attention.”
“Right. So this kid went to Templeton. He played basketball for a time but dropped it because he didn’t have the money. Needed to work instead of practicing. Anyway, he started gambling and got in deep with our bookies.”
“Your bookies or someone else?” I ask.
“Ours. He needed to make a payment or they were going to kick him out.”
“So he made a payment with money from Cole?”
“No. He disappeared.”
I release my grip on the shirt. “When’s the last time you saw him?”
“A couple weeks ago. I know the date because we were supposed to get together to tag the car wash on Sixth Street just south of the high school, but he didn’t show up, and you guys?—”
“Scully and Win tagged it,” Niki tells me.
