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“No fingerprints, no serial numbers on weapons, dressed the same,” Jaxon murmured.
“Rather than assassins, it reeks of hired thugs,” Marshal pointed out another alternative.
“What about the note with Ryker’s blood on it?”
“Getting Ryker’s blood was an inside job. Alex has a whole team trying to figure out who might have done it. We were tailing staff members prior to the invasion.”
“So, Winchester Armani is our main suspect. Or it could be whoever sent the threat,” Jaxon said with a quick frown.
“There’s a third option,” Marshal said.
“What’s that?”
“It’s not related to either one.”
“Which would be…” Jaxon growled.
“I have a hunch…If it pans out, I’ll fill you in.”
His suspicions had been growing over the past two days and the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He didn’t want to tip his hand too early, so he would be very careful.
“I hate when you do that.” Jaxon wasn’t amused.
“If it’s nothing, then you won’t need to worry about it.”
With a heavy sigh, Jaxon dropped the questions.
“I have a phone call to make,” he murmured. “Can you have someone keep an eye on Ryker?”
“I’ll put Bishop and Tanner on the door,” Jaxon said.
Relieved, Marshal walked away, lifting his cell phone to his ear as he turned the corner.
“Marshal…” Donald Bass’s smooth voice came over the phone. “I was wondering when you’d get around to calling me.”
“Let’s meet.” His voice sounded like gravel, but there was no way of changing that, especially when he was this pissed off.
“You know where to find me.” The man hung up.
“I sure the fuck do,” Marshal muttered, crushing his phone in his hand.
Later that night…
Tempted to smoke before entering Conley’s members-only club, Marshal gazed at the pack of cigarettes in his hand.
He suddenly recalled the grimace of distaste on Ryker’s face and quickly tucked the smokes away.
“Want me to come inside with you?”
Glancing over, Marshal caught Real’s gaze and gave a small shake of his head.
“No. Your appearance might spook them.”
Real smirked and settled his massive frame against the club’s brick wall.
Marshal yanked at the door and entered the building.
Wednesday night at the club was quiet, but a few people had braved the icy weather to come and find comfort with friends or in the bottom of a glass.
