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“My more… serious ventures?” He raises his eyebrows, moving his mouth slowly.
Shit, why is he playing dumb?
For this to work, I need him to implicate himself.
He has to admit he’s involved in illegal activities. Ideally, I need details so any warrant issued doesn’t turn up empty-handed.
But the way he’s looking at me tells me he won’t make this easy.
He’s a fucking snake, but he’s too good at hiding under a rock.
“Mr. Haute, I understand why you decided to use your own delivery guys for free pickups,” I say carefully. “I mean, it’s very generous and I’m sure you understand how important the Sugar Bowl is to Junie, but I thought it was a little… odd. I decided to do some looking. I hope you don’t blame me.”
“I’m still not sure I follow, Rory.” His face is almost slack with false calm, but his fingers are a little too tight on his glass, pale at the knuckles.
Do I really have to say it point-blank?
“The cupcakes were a little faulty that day. Junie, she’s a stickler for quality, and she asked me to grab them because she didn’t want to disappoint your people.” The lies drop off my tongue easily. “I took them. I found the plates inside. Don’t worry, I told my lady I threw them away. Nothing else.”
Haute taps a meaty finger against his glass.
If the tension gets any tighter, it’ll break.
“What I’m trying to say is, I want in,” I say with a chuckle, throwing caution to the wind. “That’s why I’m here. I could help you out. I suspect you could use a few more under-the-radar drop sites. I have a lot of properties you have no stake in.”
Haute purses his thick lips. “Drop sites? You’re proposing I useyourproperties?”
“Drops, meeting points, whatever you need.” A drop of sweat streams down my back as he considers it in silence.
His usual smugness is gone. His face reveals nothing.
Fuck, maybe this was a bad idea after all.
This guy has done everything he possibly can to keep this crap buried and I’ve just dragged it out in the open and confronted him.
What if I’ve overplayed my hand?
If he’s seen the footage from the laundromat, I definitely have. He’ll know I went there with Junie. He’ll also know I know more than I’m letting on.
“So, you want in.” He levels a measured glance.
“Yeah.” I nod slowly.
“And just what exactly do you think you’re getting involved with, Rory?”
Fucker just won’t do it.
He won’t confess.
I don’t know what combination of words will make him spit it out. He hasn’t denied it, sure, but this conversation won’t stand up for any judge, and he’ll have the best lawyers waiting in the wings.
“The operation you’re running,” I say carefully. “I don’t know the details, obviously, but I’m sure it’s profitable. You’re a cautious man. Not someone who marches into anything like this without considering every angle or a profit-risk analysis—you’re a businessman, like me.”
He takes another drink, sipping slowly like he’s sucking every last drop of flavor from the liquid before finally swallowing. Nothing about this man’s eating habits will ever be palatable.
“I am a businessman first,” he says, his voice oddly flat.
“Exactly. So am I. You must agree, or you wouldn’t have ever done business with Higher Ends.” Even though it’s Junie’s desserts that sealed the deal. They’re the treasure he wants, and now I know it’s not just to satisfy a ravenous sweet tooth.
