Chapter 58
ASH
Sitting and drinking with a dead body has its perks.
It's silent and can't sass at you.
I take small sips from the glass of scotch in my hand, intermittently tapping my fingers against it as I focus on the burn in my throat. Too little at a time, so I swirl the liquid and throw the remaining contents into my mouth, relishing the warm harsh feeling of it in my stomach.
I release a sigh as my eyes fall on my staff, Greg - now a dead man - at my feet. After seeing the video feed of him stealing some of the diamonds at my warehouse, I saw red and offed his greedy ass.
The sight of his brain splattered against the marble floor is beginning to grate on my nerves. Unfortunately, that isn't the only thing giving me the beginnings of a headache.
Hazel eyes is driving me crazy.
On the drive back from the funeral, I tried talking with her, speaking with her, to get her out of the funk she's currently in, but she'd been moot. When I asked if she wanted my company when we got home - I probably shouldn't have - she'd lifted her hand and flicked me away like I was some pesky fly bothering her.
Yeah, I know losing a loved one isn't peaches and cream, but I'm trying my damndest to help her along, but it doesn't seem to be working.
I lift my glass, ready to take another sip when I find out it's empty. So is the empty bottle sitting beside it. Irritation rises inside me and I lift the empty bottle of scotch, and haul it across the room where it shatters into fragments against the wall. Satisfaction blooms wildly in my chest and just when I'm about to call for another one, someone enters my office.
Moro takes one look at the dead man at my feet, and then flicks his eyes to the fragments of broken glass all over the floor, before raising a brow. "Ash-"
"Save it! I don't need a lecture from you."
He shakes his head, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk. "Wasn't going to do that. There's something you need to see."
He jerks his head in the direction of the door and I feel a frown inch across my forehead. I stand and follow him out of my office, thinking to myself this had better be good, otherwise, I won't be responsible for my actions.
I follow him to the video room where he mans. Several TV monitors on the wall which are linked to all my businesses as well as my home, flicker with different images of people on the screen. What gets me staring at one, in particular, is the image of Leonard - now the head manager for all of my clubs - as he steps out of Stardust and lights a stick of cigarette.
I wasn't aware he smoked.
I let that slide as I continue gazing intently at him as he turns his head to the left as if someone called his name. What has me inching forward to get a better view is the way he subtly looks left and right before walking away. It's not obvious, but I can clearly see it.
That's not all. As Moro zooms in on his image, I notice the tremor in his left hand as he lifts the stick to his lips and takes a drag. Now, there's nothing wrong with standing outside my bar and getting some fresh air and nicotine in your system, but it's the way he's going about it that's making alarm bells flare wildly in my head.
He walks away from the front of my club and the camera loses sight of him. Moro touches a button, and the scene jumps to a different day. The same thing happens as Leonard comes out and lights a stick of cigarette then swings his head to the left and steps out of sight from the camera.
This continues for a week, and I'm about to ask Moro why the fuck he dragged me away from my reveries to watch a man smoking when something catches my eyes. On the seventh day, as per usual, Leonard steps out of the club. It's dark out, just like the other previous days were, but as soon as he steps out of sight, the scene continues as he walks a few meters away.
That's when I realize someone must have followed him with a body camera. He meets someone at the end of the block and as they pass each other, he slips something inside the person's pocket. It's a man, from the looks of things. They pass each other like they're strangers like no exchange took place, and that's when it clicks.
"He's dealing." It's a matter-of-fact statement, not a question.
Without turning around, Moro nods. "Yep! This dude is shifty as hell. He's hiding something and that just isn't right."
I run my hands along my jaw, realizing I've got a one-week-old stubble, and nod. "Continue to keep tabs on him, and if he's doing what you know he shouldn't send him to me."
This time, Moro turns to look at me. "Ash, are you sure we shouldn't just-"
I cock my head to the side and he stops talking. "See, Moro, it's always best to catch them in the act, that way I'll know beyond a reasonable doubt, it is what I think it is."
As I walk away, my instincts are screaming at me that Leonard is a rat, but I always like to give people the benefit of the doubt, just like I did with Greg. "That reminds me." I stop and turn around. "Have Greg removed from my office, he's beginning to stink the place up."
"Done!" Moro says, turning back to stare at the monitors.
I'm about to turn away, when someone else on one of the other TV monitors, catches my eye.
Hazel eyes.
She steps out of the house with Clarissa beside her, looks left and right, exactly the same way Leonard did, and a sinking feeling envelopes me. A cab pulls up in front of her and she gets into it. I'm still debating on what to do when my phone rings so I bring it out of my pocket and answer it without first checking to see who the caller is.
"Ash, Hazel eyes said she wants to take a walk in the garden, so I thought to-
I cut the call on him as rage steals into my veins at his ineptitude.
A walk in the garden, yeah?
We'll see about that.