Chapter Nine

Three hours later, at eight p.m. on the dot, Donna Kravat sauntered into Mizumi, the sushi place at the Wynn hotel, decked out in a slinky black dress and high high heels. Myron rose and she gave the freshly showered, freshly scrubbed-footed Myron a small buss on the cheek. Donna smelled great. When she sat down, Myron said, "Why did you tip them off?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Without warning, Myron snatched her purse from her.

"What the hell—?"

He started rummaging through it, found her phone, pulled it out.

"What are you doing?"

He held the phone up to her face. It unlocked.

"Myron?"

Myron scrolled down on iMessage. "You tipped them off. Right after I arrived. That's who you were texting."

"Myron—"

"Did you know what they would do?"

"Would it matter if I said I didn't?"

"Not really, no."

"I'm surprised," she said. "You still have your toe."

"I'm resourceful."

"I bet you are."

Myron put down the phone. "So why are you helping your son's killer?"

"Because," Donna said, "I don't believe Joey did it."

"Why not? All that evidence—"

"Too much evidence, don't you think?" Donna sat down. So did he. She reached out and beckoned him to return her phone. He did. "Think about it. The fingerprints. The DNA. The weapon. The toe."

"Uh, Joey the Toe collects toes. It's in the name."

"Not when he kills someone. He uses it to send a message—a way to intimidate his rivals. Seriously, what kind of idiot keeps a dead man's toe for the police to find? What kind of idiot leaves so many clues behind?"

"Prison is littered with such idiots."

"Joey Turant was senior level of a major crime family. He had no motive to kill my boy."

"You can't know that. Maybe Joey was in the closet and Jordan was going to out him. Maybe Jordan crossed him or looked at him wrong or did nothing—"

"They were on the same side."

Myron didn't get that. "Same side of what?"

"I'm not going into it," she said.

"Yeah, Donna, I think you are. I almost got my toe snipped off because of you."

"So you think, what, I owe you?"

"I don't get it. Why would you sic those goons on me?"

"My son and Bo," she said.

"What about them?"

"Toward the end, their relationship was strained. You know how it is. Two young hot guys trying to commit in a city that's the opposite of commitment."

"One cheated?"

"I don't know. Probably. Probably both. That doesn't matter. Let me ask you something. Put aside your preconceived notions about this case, okay? When a murder occurs, who is always always the top suspect?"

Myron saw where she was going with this. "The partner."

"Exactly."

"So you think Bo was involved in Jordan's murder?"

She didn't bother replying.

"Did the police look into Bo?"

That made her chuckle. "Are you kidding? With all that evidence pointing to Joey? They always wanted to nail The Toe—and now a murder case was being served up on a silver platter. I don't even think they cared if Joey did it or not. But one thing was for sure—they weren't going to muddy the waters by looking into other suspects."

That made sense.

"Ever since Bo testified, the Turants have been scouring the planet for him. And they've gotten nowhere. Bo vanished without a trace, without anyone following up, without a single clue. I'd given up. And then, after all these years, you come along—"

"That doesn't mean he had anything to do with your son's murder. Maybe Bo is dead too. Like you said. Maybe Joey got revenge—"

"No. If Joey murdered Bo, why would he be so obsessed with finding him? He'd already know where he was."

Good point.

"Maybe it's like you said before," Myron tried. "Bo was scared. His boyfriend gets murdered. He testifies against the killer. Maybe Bo thinks he's next."

"Maybe. Okay, sure, I doubt it, but who knows? It's possible. And when we find him, Bo can explain all that. But either way, you, Myron, gave us the first big clue in a long time."

"That being?"

"Greg Downing."

"I'm not following."

"Bo's a good-looking kid. My top dancer for a while. Sexy as all hell. But—how to put this—Bo's belt doesn't go through all the loops, if you know what I mean. He's not that smart or resourceful, certainly not enough to pull off murdering my son and framing someone like Joey the Toe for it." She leaned forward now. "But if someone like Greg Downing was in the picture, if Greg fell in love with those six-pack abs and that tight little ass…"

Win sat in the empty prison visiting room across from Joey the Toe.

"Jazz is your cousin," Win said to him. "That's why I let him live."

Joey sat with his arms crossed. He wasn't cuffed or manacled. There were no barriers between them. It was long past closing hours, but that didn't matter with Joey the Toe. He ran the place.

"So you let him live," Joey said with a shrug. "Is that supposed to mean I owe you a favor?"

"It does not. You sent men after my friend."

"Clearly not my best men."

"I would hope not."

"I should have sent more."

"I don't think it would have changed the outcome," Win said.

"No, I guess not. You had a locator on Bolitar's phone."

"Yes."

"But we moved his phone."

"There's one on his watch too."

Joey the Toe shook his head. "How did my morons miss that?"

"There was also the car."

"What about it?"

"Your guys drove my friend in the limo driver's SUV. The limo company tracks all its cars."

"To make sure none of the drivers takes a little side action," Joey noted with an approving nod. "Smart. So what do you want?"

Win leaned back and steepled his fingers. "You're searching for Bo Storm."

"Duh."

"I can hurt you. You can hurt me. Neither of us needs the headache. So let me explain the situation: We will find Bo Storm. And when we do, we will notify you."

Joey the Toe gave him the stink eye. "Notify me."

Win said nothing.

"Why do you want to find him?" Joey asked.

"He may be connected to another murder."

"Really?" Joey the Toe found that amusing. "Interesting, eh? Then this Jordan Kravat kid, he isn't the only one Bo murdered? Is that what you're saying?"

"I don't know yet."

Joey the Toe leaned back and stroked his beard. "This other murder," he said. "Do the cops like someone other than Bo for it?"

The question caught Win off guard. He considered how to answer the question and decided to go with the truth. "Yes. How did you know?"

"And let me guess. Someone you know—a friend maybe—is about to go down for it?"

"More of a client than a friend," Win said. "But yes."

Joey smiled.

"How did you know?"

"I didn't murder Jordan Kravat. Yeah, yeah, I know you hear that all the time, but I got no reason to lie to you, do I?"

"You don't."

"I got framed. This other murder you're talking about, your client, friend, whatever, he's also being framed. Like me. What kind of evidence do they got on him? DNA? Fingerprints?"

"DNA."

Joey shook his head with a grin. "Hot damn. He's done it again."