‘All you know?’ Dax asked. Sweeping his forearm around, he thrust Winlow against the wall. ‘Who was at this card game?’
‘Just three of us, me and Benny and… The Greyhound, that was it.’
‘That was it,’ Dax said, glancing back at Serg who was still in front of the brunette, Serg shrugged indicating he was happy enough with that information, but Dax wasn’t satisfied. ‘Who spoke? I want you to tell me exactly what was said.’ Dax had to know how they identified Ivy to know what people were looking for when they sought her out.
‘It was… it was The Greyhound, he was… he said he’d heard talk that was all, he didn’t say who told him.’
‘What did he say?’ Dax demanded, pulling the guy forward to slam him to the wall.
‘Just… just that there was a bounty out, told us how much, told us… he said, she… brunette, big tits, married to the Ravager, that was it.’
‘That was it?’
‘Yeah… yeah, that was it. But come on man, I’m not gonna touch your girl I’m holed up here, I can’t go fucking anywhere, I’m stuck here. Your girl is safe—‘
‘From you maybe,’ Dax said, giving him another shove then letting him slither down the wall. ‘Piece of advice, if you’re going to skip bail then you haul ass out of the state, don’t hang out in your buddy’s old place and hope no one thinks to look…’ Retreating, Dax nodded at Serg. ‘Let’s go.’
He and Serg left the apartment, and Dax was preoccupied again, the Ravager. The Greyhound was a skinny guy who was known for his addiction to long distance running and chasing tail, hence how he got the moniker. Dax didn’t have any beef with him, they didn’t associate, but what was more interesting was that he was referred to by his fighting name.
Benny frequented the circuit, so did Winlow when he was making money from his gambling. But as far as Dax knew The Greyhound had never been to a fight. He would know about Dax’s ties to the Starks because he did some couriering for the family in his younger years. But if The Greyhound used Dax’s fighting name that meant that whoever had told him about the contract had used it.
They might not know exactly who the source of this issue was, but they’d just narrowed it down. Whoever was doing this knew of Dax from the fighting circuit. Ivy had never been to any of his fights, so he had his confirmation that this bounty was his fault.
‘Where to now?’ Serg asked when they got back to the car.
‘We track down The Greyhound.’
‘We can go to Benny,’ Serg said.
Finding Benny was always easy, he didn’t stay in one place for long, but he had never heard of discretion and practically announced himself in every room he walked into. Benny had various contacts but little respect, it was doubtful that he had been used as a middle man. The Greyhound, on the other hand, may be the guy Dax was looking for. Easily recognizable but discreet, yes, he would make a good go-to guy. At the very least Dax could squeeze him for information, if he had to trace this trail man-by-man, then he would.
But there was something else he could do, he could get himself a fight. If people were looking for the Ravager’s girl, then he had to get himself on a bill somewhere. Most guys would assume that he would bring his brunette, which of course, he wouldn’t. But Dax could try to track interested parties if he got them all together in one room, and there was a chance one of them would slip up and say something to give himself away and if they did, Dax would be ready.
Though if he were going to find himself a fight tonight then he’d have to get back to Ivy this afternoon. His promise to return that night and not find a fight was one he’d have to go back on now, which meant he’d have to assuage her snit. More than happy to do that, because it meant getting naked with her, the remaining buzz from upstairs fostered his need to seek out some private time with his wife after their next stop.
‘Let’s check out The Greyhound,’ Dax said. ‘You know where to find him?’
Serg nodded and turned the car at the next junction to take them toward The Greyhound’s place, which it turned out was less than ten minutes’ drive away.
As soon as they got to The Greyhound’s apartment Dax knew that they were too late. Police tape was draped around the outer stairway of the building, and forensic analysts were crawling all over the scene. Dax waved two fingers at Serg indicating that they should keep on driving.
‘You think that’s him?’ Serg asked.
Examining the building, Dax noted the newly rendered facade and the freshly painted railings, this was a good block, meaning it was unlikely there was too much crime around here.
‘Whether it is or not, we’re not getting in there without talking to a cop, you up for that?’
Serg didn’t respond because he didn’t need to. They were both of the same Stark school where if you saw a cop you turned and walked the other way. Parking and trying to get in or ask questions would likely end up with one or both of their names in a notebook, and that was the last thing that either of them wanted or needed.
‘If The Greyhound was taken out because of this bounty then whoever is behind it is serious.’
Yes, that was the proof that this was no joke. ‘Take me to the mansion.’
Going to Mauri was only a stop on his way back to Ivy, it was time to put his suspicions to Mauri. If the old man didn’t have any updates for him, anything tangible, then it would be as good as signing a confession as far as Dax was concerned. When Mauri wanted information he got it, unless whoever was behind this knew how to evade Mauri’s grasp, but that was a rare thing for anyone outside of the inner circle.
Chapter Sixteen
Mauri took longer than normal to come out of the bedroom, and he looked frail today like he’d had a rough night. It had been easy to forget just how ill Mauri was because Dax had so many distractions in his life.
He’d paced Mauri’s private drawing room for almost ten minutes, unable to sit down because of the unsated energy zipping through him. When Mauri did eventually come in, Dax stopped, and his tirade died on his lips.
Gaunt and tired, the lines on Mauri’s face were etched deep, and his usually proud stature was a bit stooped today. ‘I don’t suppose this is a social visit,’ Mauri said, he coughed then brought a silk handkerchief to the corner of his mouth. ‘What did you find out?’
‘I came here to find out what you know,’ Dax said, trying not to be affected by the sight of such a robust man wasting away.
‘I told Serg what we discussed.’
If Mauri didn’t even know that Serg had come to him, then it was unlikely he’d done any digging of his own. ‘Yeah, we spoke to Winlow.’
Mauri shuffled toward his armchair next to the fireplace. His steps weren’t sure, they were unsteady, and Dax fought the urge to go over there and support him.
‘What did he say?’
‘Tried to say he knew nothing.’
‘But you persuaded him to share?’ Mauri asked. Slumping into his seat, his relief became a smile, and he lifted his eyes to Dax, who nodded.
His energy waned into the numb depths that sunk out of his guts. Mauri was going to die. Only now, looking at this shadow of his former mentor did Dax comprehend that in a few months there would be no more Maurice Stark to talk to; he wouldn’t be around to offer advice and guidance, he would just be gone.
‘He folded pretty quick,’ Dax said, glued to the floor where he stood.
‘And what did he reveal?’
‘He got the information at a card game, Benny and The Greyhound were there, it was The Greyhound who clued him in.’
‘Benny is a dead end, if he knew anything he’d declare it in every bar he walked into, the man can’t keep his mouth shut.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Did you follow up with The Greyhound?’
‘His place is tied up, the cops are swarming; something went down there not too long ago.’
‘That’s concerning,’ Mauri said, using the arm of the chair to support his weight.