I walked into The Jazzy Pig, one of the local dive bars, around two in the afternoon. It was one of the places we owned on the down-low and it was a great place to get information if you knew who to ask. I knew who to ask.
"Afternoon, Brad," Nicky called from behind the bar when I walked through. "What can I do for you?" Nicky knew me well, and would know I wasn't here for a social.
"Where's Ronan today?" I leaned over the bar and did a careful scan of the place. It was mostly empty considering the time.
Nicky wiped down a glass and poured me a beer. "He'll be in the back, you know the way."
Ronan was our front-man for The Jazz Pig, he handled the business side of things but he was also a well of information. I took my beer from Nicky, downed it in a few gulps, and bid them a good da
