Bringing Bobby’s Gym into the twenty-first century should have been fun. But the dead guy draped over the weight machine definitely took the joy out of it!
The Hoale Construction gang has taken on the task of bringing Bobby’s Gym into the twenty-first century. But the dead guy hanging from the new lat machine is putting a serious crimp in their timeline. When Bobby becomes the number one suspect for the murder, Adam and the gang are forced to try and clear him. But who is the guy? And was Bobby really the last one to see him alive? Questions only seem to multiply the deeper they dig. Until they uncover a connection with a group of thugs who call themselves the Indiana Mobsters. Things just continue to spiral downward from there.
“Good lord. This place has been tossed.”
“I don’t think so,” Maddy held a pair of plaid boxers up between two fingertips, grimacing. “I think this is just décor a la modern sleazebag.”
Skimming the large, messy space with a guy eye, Adam had to agree. “Pizza boxes, dirty socks, used tissues all over the floor, stiff with substances better left unknown…” He nodded. “Maddy’s right. This is your typical single guy lair.”
Dirk shook his head. “I never lived like this.”
“You were never typical, Dirk.” Maddy moved over to a cheap, particle board desk and sat down. “I’ll take electronic duty. You guys can dig through his underwear. That should be right up your alley.”
“Har de har har,” Adam told her. Glancing at Dirk he said, “We’re looking for letters and videos.”
“We need to find out which movie companies might want to take Peartree out before the world found out he was gay and ruined their bottom line.” Adam grinned at his double entendre.
Dirk laughed. “Good one, babe.”
The room was your typical basement lair—damp, cold, and messy. The floor was old, cracked linoleum that was probably filled with asbestos and the walls were painted concrete. The only light came from two small windows high on the outside wall. “I’m pretty sure this wouldn’t pass a safety inspection.” Adam told them.
Tapping merrily on the computer keys, Maddy agreed. “I just saw that pair of black silk boxers across the room move. Either Peartree wore them past the animation point, or there’s something from the rodent family living under them.”
“Great. Where’s Walter when we need him,” Dirk lamented.
Adam paled. “You kidding me? I wouldn’t let Walter anywhere near this room. I love him too much. Even the rodents probably have asbestos poisoning.”
“And yet you dragged me down here.”
“It wasn’t exactly a drag, Dirk, more like a hustle.”
“Hey guys, I think I’ve got something here.”
Dirk pulled a couple of letters from the bedside table. “Me too. These were buried under several issues of Playgirl.”
Adam’s eyes widened with interest. “Ooh! What months?”
Dirk shook his head, striding toward Maddy. “Forget it, babe. I’m sure half the pages would stick together.”
Adam stood behind Maddy, looking over her shoulder. “What have you got, Mads?”
She tapped a button and the printer next to the computer kicked into gear. “Several emails from a company called The Advocacy Group. It looks like somebody wasn’t happy with Mr. Peartree.”
Adam pulled the first email from the printer and scanned it. “They’ve been hired to mediate in a law suit. Apparently young Patrick didn’t fulfill a contract of some kind.”
Looking over Adam’s shoulder, Dirk asked, “Does it say who the client is?”
“No, they just refer to them as Client.” Adam said. He pulled the rest of the emails from the printer and scanned them quickly. “Any notes from Mink?”
Maddy shook her head. “Not in his Inbox. Let me do a search…” A moment later several emails popped up in the Search field. “Naughty boy. He had them in a special folder called, Hookups.”
“Ugh!” Dirk said. “Classy.”
“I just don’t get what Mink was doing with this guy. He’s really not Mink’s type.”
Maddy turned to Adam. “Mink has a type?”
About the Author
Declan Sands writes romantic paranormal/fantasy and mystery/suspense, creating stories that celebrate the joy of love in all its forms. Known for writing great characters, snappy dialogue, and unique and exhilarating stories, Declan is the award-winning author of 40+ books and has been writing for over a decade under several noms de plume.