Victor buzzed Gina into his office, darkening his computer screen before she entered. “What’s the status on the field survey?”
“Nothing new to report. Cooper’s been digging for several days, and so far, nothing has turned up. When I spoke to her yesterday, she said she needed more time.”
The bitch was pushing her luck. Maybe she thought she could milk him for more money by taking longer to finish. “She’s had enough time. Get her on the phone.”
Gina glanced at her watch. “It’s seven-thirty, and she starts early in the morning. If she’s at the lot, she won’t pick up. She told me yesterday if you want her to finish this job, she couldn’t keep taking calls asking about the status. I usually have to leave a message.”
“What? We’re supposed to be her fucking priority.” He slammed his fist on the desk.
“I’ll try her again.” Gina’s high heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she hastened out of the room.
Victor brought up the stats for his black-market sales. With no artifacts to sell, his buyers would spend their money elsewhere while he sat on a veritable gold mine waiting for the stamp of approval from that bitch archaeologist.
He ran his tongue across his teeth, picked up his metal handgrips, and squeezed off a round of twenty. Gina beeped him on the intercom.
“No answer from Cooper. Zach is here to see you.”
The fucking bitch had blown him off again. He’d had enough of her, but first things first. Time to see if Zach passed the test Victor had set up. Last night he had given the drug buyer a higher price than he’d told Zach to collect. If Zach kept the difference, he couldn’t be trusted. “Send him in.”
Victor set the handgrip next to the computer and leaned back in his chair. Zach entered the room wearing jeans and a navy-blue hoodie. He shut the door behind him and strode to the desk. “I made the drop last night.”
“Good.”
Zach reached into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, drew out a fat envelope, and slid it across the desk to Victor. “Here’s the cash. Your buyer tested the meth. Percentages were good.”
Victor opened the envelope and thumbed through the bills inside. Exactly the amount he’d told Zach to collect, not the higher price he’d agreed to with his distributor.
Zach had failed.
“It’s all here.” Victor stood and crossed the room to open the cabinet with a safe behind it. He punched the code in and placed the envelope inside. Too bad. He could have used an ex-con in the business. Someone seasoned and tough, unlike crystal-head Eric, but he had to be able to trust Zach.
“Not sure what you want to do with the extra,” Zach said.
Victor stilled. Maybe Zach hadn’t failed. Victor shut the safe.
Zach held out a wad of money. “Can’t account for this.”
“What’s that?”
“No idea.” Zach shrugged. “He overpaid.”
Victor took the cash and counted it. He raised an eyebrow and met Zach’s steady gaze.
Zach waved a hand at the bills. “Hey, I’m a businessman in for the long haul. Not looking to make a quick buck or an enemy by screwing anyone. This is your customer, your money, your call.”
No shit, this kid got it. Cool head and didn’t take the first chance at some easy cash. He’d earned his way in. Victor nodded. “Nice doing business with you. I’ll be in touch about the next deal.”
Zach nodded and exited the room.
Victor paced to the window. He needed to find out what was going on with Cooper on the property. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with the drug cartel and his meth manufacturers, he’d have gone back to the lot and checked it out himself. Relying on Eric to keep tabs on Cooper was like asking a baby to guard the house.
Once again, Gina’s voice sounded over the intercom announcing Eric.
Eric, awake and functioning before eight, remained to be seen. Victor sat and picked up the handgrip. He squeezed off another twenty as Eric shuffled into the office and dropped into a chair. Eric’s gaze darted to the metal grip. He swallowed hard.
“Give me a status report. When’s the last time you were at the lot?” Victor switched the grip to the other hand.
Eric cleared his throat. “Yesterday. She’s still digging.”
Fucking rocket scientist, this one. “No shit. Has she found any artifacts?”
“I don’t think so. Not while I was there.”
If he hadn’t been too high to notice. Victor tapped the grip on the desk. “Do you have anything useful to report?”
Eric leaned forward and bobbed his head. “Yeah, that dirty cop, he might have something for me.”
“What do you mean?” So far, all Eric had done was pad the guy’s paycheck. Detective Scott Fisher. Victor had checked him out. Some beat cop from the city. Rumors about some missing evidence and money swirled around his name, but nothing had ever been proven. He’d transferred out to Tuckerton on the heels of the scandal. Made sense he’d be on the take, coming from Hell’s Kitchen. Nobody left that place without a few scars.
“When I met with him yesterday and gave the box—”
“What box? I thought you were paying him five hundred dollars.” Victor narrowed his eyes.
Eric licked his lips. “The box…with the money, I mean.”
“What box?” The guy couldn’t lie for his life. What fast one was he pulling now?
“I was trying to work a deal. Figured he might take some of the broken artifacts instead of the money.” Eric’s leg shook as he quickly added, “You told me to throw them out, but I wanted to get some cash for them if I could.”
Unbelievable. Victor shook his head. “Did the detective go for it?”
Eric slunk back in the chair. “Well, no.”
“But I bet he took them, right?”
“Yeah. I mean, you said they weren’t worth shit, so I didn’t think you’d care.” Eric licked his lips. “Right?”
Victor stood and smashed the handgrip on the desk. “You stupid motherfucker, you handed a cop physical evidence of a looting?”
Eric jumped. “It’s cool. It’s cool. He doesn’t give a shit about the artifacts. Just wants money. I told you, he might have a lead for me.”
“You have two seconds to tell me something that might save your miserable life.” Victor itched to throw this junkie through the fucking window and end both of their misery. Only, now he was intrigued. He rounded the desk and towered over Eric.
Eyes wide, Eric gripped the armrest. “He…uh…said he might be interested in some cash for leaking information to me on where they keep some rare artifacts.”
“Locally?”
“I think so. He didn’t say. I’m supposed to talk to him again.”
Victor stroked his chin. He needed to get his hands on some relics and the security in town was laughable. Eric might actually be onto something.
“There’s more.” Eric let go of the armrests and rubbed his hands together. “I’m doing good, right? You wanna know more?”
If Eric were a bug, Victor would grind him under his shoe. But the druggie was bringing some useful information. Every time Victor wanted to off the damn idiot, he came up with something worthwhile and bought another chance at life. “Keep talking.”
“I went to spy on Maddie, and I saw the detective go into her apartment.”
“Yeah, and?”
Eric grinned and raised his eyebrows. “I saw their silhouettes through the curtains. He was frisking her all right.”
Fisher and the archaeologist. That was something to chew on. Both into money over morals. If the detective was sleeping with Cooper, he might know where she kept those rare artifacts. Maybe using her. Then again, she could be in on the whole thing, providing him the information for her own cut. “Find out more about them and report back.”
Eric leaped up, went to the door, and opened it. “You got it, boss.”
Gina stood in the entrance. “I left another message, but Cooper’s still not answering.”
Fucking bitch. Blood roared in Victor’s ears. He grabbed Eric’s arm and yanked him back. “Don’t go yet. I have another job for you.”