Page 12 of Property of Player

“Move along. This is a crime scene,” the cop replies.

“Is Sheriff Edwards here?” Gage asks him.

“He’s inside.”

“Tell him Gage is out here. He’ll want to talk to me.”

The guy looks put out but hits the radio on his shoulder. “Tell the sheriff a man wants to talk to him. He’s with the Kings of Anarchy.”

A minute later, Sheriff Edwards emerges. He and my father shake hands over the yellow tape.

“Gage.”

“Ronnie. What the hell is going on? Is Jimmy okay?”

“Jimmy’s dead.”

“What?” My father’s chin pulls to the side as those words hit him. “How? Did he have a heart attack or something?”

“Nope. It looks like a gunshot to the head. We thought suicide, but when we rolled the body over, there was no gun.”

“Who the hell would want to kill Jimmy?”

“No clue. You got any ideas?”

“Hell no, everybody liked Jimmy.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“When I closed the deal on my house yesterday. He met me out there and gave me the keys.”

“That the last time you talked to him?”

“No. He was excited about the commission, and he went to the casino last night. He called me at one am and told me he’d won at craps.”

“How much?”

“A thousand bucks.”

“With that amount, he probably got his pay out in cash.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” my father concedes.

“Given the time, I’d guess he didn’t stop at the bank and make a deposit.”

“Probably not. So, it should be in there. You find it?”

“Nope. Least not yet.”

“He used to keep his cash in his cookie jar.”

“I remember.”

“I always told him that was fucking stupid.”

“I did, too.”

“A thousand bucks. Enough to kill a man over, I suppose.”