“I’ll drop it,” I said, trying and failing to take his threat seriously. “When I find out what happened to Tim. If Mr. Ayers agrees to talk, I can certainly meet him in his office and make myself available at whatever time is convenient.”

Felton chortled derisively. “His office? You’d never make it past security. In fact, I’ll see to it.”

“I accept that challenge.”

“I’ll have your license.”

“You know what? When I make it past security, I’ll give you a copy.”

He hung up without another word. I grinned, tossed the phone on the passenger seat, started the car, and gave the driver behind me the spot. I had ruffled enough feathers for one day. I was going home.

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“What you don’t want is a lawyer on your ass,” Whip said. We were at Creole’s, a small restaurant on the West Side, where Whip was the cook. The place was packed, lively, and surprisingly loud for noon on a Tuesday. It was nothing like Deek’s place. Whip had set me up at a special table near the kitchen and I was midway through my second bowl of seafood gumbo.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“My bet’s on the brother,” Whip said, his massive forearms resting on the checked tablecloth. The table wobbled a bit. “It’s the money. There’s always a fight over the money. The older one figures out a way so he doesn’t have to share it. That’s how the rich operate.” He drummed his fingers on the table, shook his head. “Greed’s a dangerous affliction, especially in a family. See? I made you lunch and solved your case for you. You’re welcome.”

“Then what about the argument on the boat?” I asked.

Whip waved a dismissive hand. “C’mon, when is there ever not a drunken argument at a party?”

“There’s that weird insurance thing, the settlement. I looked it up. Jung’s right, it’s legal. But whenever money’s in play . . .”

Whip’s mouth twisted. “Don’t see much of a score, though. Insurance practices are locked down tight, regulated to the hilt. And complicated. That’s why I stayed away from white-collar crime. Too much homework.”

“Okay, then what about the investment Tim backed out of? Ganz seems really committed to that bar.”

Whip shook his head. “Nope. It’s the family. No one loves you like family, and nobody hates you like family. Trust me.”

I eyed him quizzically. “What evidence are you basing your conclusion on?”

Whip patted his paunchy middle. “Gut instinct, Bean. It never misses.”