“Hmm, okay. I understand. Thanks.”
Dante ends the call, and I’m immediately all over him like a hyper rabbit.
“Did they find anything?” I ask.
“Actually, yes.”
I hold my breath. Ever since I’d found a burner phone on a rival gang member’s yacht last week, Dante and his men had been working night and day to recover any information from it.
The phone had extensive water damage, which was probably why whoever used it felt comfortable enough tossing it away. They probably thought the information contained in it was unsalvageable, and so the risk of it falling into the wrong hands was slim to none.
They were wrong.
“Well, what is it?” I ask impatiently.
“Lorenzo was able to trace the majority of the calls. They all came from a local strip club.”
“Okay …” I say, still not understanding
