Hold On (Page 146)

“This investigation has been ongoing for a year and a half,” Harleman continued. “We’ve made allegiances with a variety of players and one of those players is Mr. Ryker, who’s acting as a confidential informant.”

Garrett cut a glance to Ryker, but this was not a surprise.

Ryker did not consider himself a rat and he’d probably rip your face off if you even suggested it.

As his profession, Ryker sold information and everyone was in the know about that. If you didn’t want him in your business, you did everything you could to keep him out. It was just that he had an uncanny talent for finding ways in.

If he liked you, though, he protected you and kept what he knew about you close. He’d never breathe a word, not even under torture.

Ryker didn’t like many people.

And as far as Garrett knew, the person he hated most was Carlito.

“As Gutierrez and Mr. Ryker are not the best of friends, and Mr. Ryker has a special skillset of which I’m told you’re aware, he’s been a significant asset in our investigation,” Harleman shared. “We were getting close to an arrest, and in order to dot some i’s, we needed Mr. Ryker to secure someone closer to Gutierrez’s operations. Mr. Cutler works with Gutierrez. However, he owed Mr. Ryker a variety of markers. Mr. Ryker acted as go-between, striking this deal for us that Cutler inform from the inside.”

Garrett’s gaze cut quicker back to Ryker. “You’re workin’ with this guy?”

“He’s a fuckwit,” Ryker replied. “But he’s also a means to an end.”

“Fuck you,” Cutler spat.

“Don’t turn my stomach with dirty talk like that when I just ate five Hilligoss, assclown,” Ryker returned.

“Gentlemen,” Faria murmured warningly.

“Obviously, no love lost between you and Cutler,” Mike noted to Ryker. “But maybe you’ll explain what end you’re lookin’ for.”

“Not a big fan of Carlito,” Ryker grunted.

“Not askin’ for shit I know,” Mike returned. “You haven’t been a big fan for years, Ryker, and those years runs longer than your deal with the Feds.”

Ryker leveled his eyes on Mike. “Done dickin’ with him. It’s time he went away.”

“This mean now, at long last, you’re gonna share your beef?” Mike asked.

All attention, especially that of Tanner, Mike, and Garrett, none of whom knew what went down with Ryker and Carlito, which meant all of whom were curious, turned acute on Ryker.

“He dicked with me,” Ryker stated. “You are in the know, bro. You dick with me, I dick back.”

Shit.

That gave them nothing.

Mike wisely decided to let that go. Whatever went down between them for Ryker to get in bed with the Feds would stay where Ryker wanted it to stay until he was ready to share.

Buried.

So Mike turned to Jaden Cutler.

“It’s clear you’re aware, Mr. Cutler, that your ex-girlfriend was murdered yesterday,” Mike noted carefully.

“Yeah,” he grunted.

“Do you believe Ms. Derian’s death has anything to do with your dealings with Carlito Gutierrez?” Mike asked.

Cutler’s face got red.

And it shocked the shit out of him when Garrett saw the pain.

“It don’t got shit to do with Wendy the way you think,” he bit out. “Good through and through, my Wendy.”

His Wendy?

Garrett looked to Mike.

Mike looked to Garrett.

Garrett then turned his eyes to Cutler. “It’s our understanding you had ended things with Ms. Derian.”

“Well, yeah,” he drawled sarcastically. “Seein’ my ass is in a sling with all this shit with Carlito. Feds up in my shit. Ryker up in my shit. If Carlito found out I’m a rat, no tellin’ what he’d do, just know that shit would be jacked up and it’d hit wherever the fuck he wanted it to hit.” He turned wounded, angry, narrowed eyes to Harleman. “Just like it hit.”

“That was unfortunate,” Harleman muttered uncomfortably.

Garrett felt that in his throat and turned to look at Mike, who had his brows raised and his eyes locked to Harleman. Then Garrett turned his attention to Tanner, who no longer looked amused and was shaking his head at Garrett.

“Yeah. Fuckin’ unfortunate,” Cutler fired back in a way that made Garrett return his attention to him. It was also in a way that Faria moved closer to him and Tanner rolled his chair to the side, alert, in case Cutler lost it.

“At the risk of this guy losin’ his mind, which, from what I’m gettin’ from this shit, he’s got the right, you wanna explain what the fuck is goin’ on?” Mike asked.

“Stay cool, Cutler,” Tanner warned.

Cutler glared at Harleman. Then he turned his head and glared at Tanner.

After that, he stood down, doing that by dropping his head to stare at his feet.

Garrett studied him, thinking if anyone had told him he’d ever feel sorry for that guy, he would have told them they were crazy.

But at that look of sorrow, helplessness, and defeat, he felt sorry for the guy.

“We’re unaware of exactly what Wendy Derian had to talk with Carlos Gutierrez about,” Harleman began to explain. “We have Cutler and another informant inside his operation, some bugs, and eyes on Gutierrez and his men. Even with all that, we were unable to hear what was said. We just know that Ms. Derian spent quite a bit of time hitting various players in Gutierrez’s operation late Tuesday night through early Wednesday morning until she was able to secure a face-to-face with Gutierrez. Their meeting lasted just over fifteen minutes. She left and did it in a hurry.” Harleman’s eyes slid to Cutler as he finished cautiously, “Clearly, whatever she had to say displeased Gutierrez. It’s our belief, at his order, one of Gutierrez’s soldiers followed her and wasted very little time taking care of what had become a problem.”