Reyes raised his gaze to his. “No idea who messed up your truck?”
“No.” And that really pissed him off. Not the damage, he could care less about that. But that Sunny could have been harmed.
“Could it have been the Fox?” Reyes asked him.
Duke narrowed his gaze. “There was no calling card. That’s the Fox’s thing, right? To leave some indication it was him?”
“Usually, yeah,” Spike rasped. “But he was interrupted by your missus.”
Duke didn’t deny she was his. They’d all hear about his declaration out in the bar soon enough. He frowned, thinking that through. If it was the Fox and Sunny had been so close to him. . .he sucked in a breath. Fuck! The danger she could have been in made him want to get up right now and find her, tuck her away and never let her out.
“Easy, man,” Ink said. “She’s surrounded by her people. Probably nowhere that she’d be safer.”
“Don’t underestimate the Fox,” Spike told them. “Bastard could be sneaking amongst us and we’d never know. He’s got a reputation for getting places other people can’t.”
Ink glared at Spike. “Are you trying to give Duke a heart attack? Christ, he’s not going to let the poor girl pee on her own now.”
That had basically been the case earlier so he couldn’t argue that.
“Good,” Spike grunted. “If it was the Fox she encountered she needs watching like a hawk.”
“How likely is it that it was the Fox, though,” Ink argued. “This guy is an assassin, why the fuck would he be involved in petty shit like keying Duke’s truck?”
Reyes grunted. “It’s a good point. Unlikely to be the Fox.”
“Jewel has her,” Ink told him. “She’s safe for the moment.”
“Jewel has her?” Reyes asked, shock clear in his usually emotionless voice.
“Yep.” Ink grinned. “Think she’s taken little Sunny under her wing.”
“But Jewel hates people,” Jason said with confusion.
“She likes Sunny,” Ink drawled. “Everyone likes Sunny. Such a sweet little thing. Daddy Duke, such a nice ring to it,” Ink mused, tapping his tattooed fingers against the desk.
“Can we get on with it? I don’t like being away from her.”
Reyes nodded. “My contact called me earlier. Turns out that girl who was found last weekend is the same girl in the photos. She was a runaway. They’re trying to piece together what happened to her once she arrived here.”
“Fuck,” Duke muttered. Having the girl turn up dead had sent him spiraling last weekend. Which is why he’d been trying to stay away from Sunny, until she’d walked over with a basket of muffins. “Fucker killed her.”
“Raped and murdered,” Reyes confirmed in a cold voice. “Then in the early hours of this morning, Jason followed one of the senator’s bodyguards. And he caught him meeting with this guy.”
The senator was loaded and he had two bodyguards that went everywhere with him.
Reyes turned around his laptop to display a photo of one of the senator’s bodyguards handing an envelope to a fat, middle-aged white man with a serious comb-over.
“Who is he?” Duke asked.
“Arnold James Francine. Or Frankie to his friends and the devil to the women he pimps out.”
Duke sat up straighter. “He was meeting with a pimp?”
Reyes nodded. “And paying him off by the looks of it.”
“So this could be the guy supplying him with the girls?” Razor asked with a scowl.
“Looks like it,” Reyes said.