Usually, that meant money needed to exchange hands.
Matteo stayed quiet for a moment. He did that when he had information but hadn’t confirmed it yet. It annoyed the hell out of Sevastyan but, he knew very well nothing he said would pry information from the man before he was ready.
“I’m digging. I have someone in the wings but don’t hold your breath. The detective heading the case likes to play games. A detective Vincent. She’s refused every kind of vice I push her way. A real stickler for rules and shit. She pulls the classified information card with me at every fucking turn. No one wants to play nice and the trail, if there was one to begin with, is getting colder by the fucking hour, man. Honestly, I don’t know.” Matteo rubbed at the place between his brows. “Seems pointless to continue some days.”
That didn’t sound like Matteo. Between the four of them, Matteo came off as the tenacious one.
A frown flitted across Sevastyan’s face. He stood and walked back to where Matteo sat and reached for the bottle on the middle table.
“For the time we had her, she made me feel less of a monster.”
Sevastyan didn’t know what made him admit such truth and he appreciated it when Matteo opted to answer with only an understanding nod.
He didn’t know how the cards would fall or what would come slithering out the more rocks they overturned in hunting a killer. Putting Seraphina in the middle of that wouldn’t work.
He’d take a bullet to the head first.