Chapter 8: The Hit Piece

By seven the next morning, my face was on four websites.

Bird read the first headline aloud from the kitchen table in her stage voice.

"'The Kept Man of Harbor: Why Seven Powerful Sisters Are Hiding Leo Hart.'"

"Don't," I said.

"'A source close to Price Supply says Hart diverted company funds into a charity he controls.'"

"I don't control any charity."

"'Meanwhile, a violent confrontation in a downtown garage leaves a Price family heir bloodied.'"

She turned her phone around.

It was the garage video, cropped and slowed down.

It began at the exact moment Hammer caught the brother's fist.

It cut off before he swung, and before I'd said a word.

In the clip, I stood behind a woman twice my size while she held a man in a blue suit by the wrist.

The caption read: HART SISTERS' MUSCLE.

"They cut the opening," Judge said.

She was already on her feet, making a list.

"That's actionable. I'll have a letter out by noon."

"Nobody's bloodied," Hammer said. "I didn't even use my other hand."

"The site is owned by a man who plays golf with Roland Price," said Spook.

"The tip came from a Price Supply email address."

"That's tidy," said Doc.

"It's meant to be."

My phone buzzed on the table.

A text from a number I'd saved on Thursday under CLIPBOARD.

Saw the news. You okay, Glasses?

I looked at it for longer than I needed to.

Then I typed: Fine. Hope the stage survived.

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