Troy still looked upset from having had to tell her about Evelyn, but he nodded. “The casino owner is dead.”

Diesel sighed at that. “Yeah, I kind of thought so. Who found him?”

“His housekeeper,” Quincy answered. “She didn’t get far enough into the house to disturb anything, luckily. She smelled his body, backed out, and called the cops. Security video supports her story.”

“How did he die?” Dani asked, clenching her teeth. “I hope it hurt. A lot.”

Quincy’s brows winged up at the venom in her voice. “ME hasn’t determined yet, but first responders found a syringe on his nightstand. He was an insulin-dependent type 1 diabetic. We’re testing the remnants of the syringe to see if it was his insulin.”

“When?” Diesel asked grimly.

Quincy shrugged. “Hard to say. Rigor had passed, so at least twenty-four to thirty-six hours. He was seen at the casino on Friday night, so sometime between then and yesterday noon. I don’t believe either of you are suspects, of course.”

“Of course,” Dani murmured. “Deacon and Adam are aware?”

“Yep,” Troy said. “They called to tell me themselves.”

Diesel gave Quincy a questioning look. “You said you had a gift for us. Sorry, dude, but none of this news seems like much of a gift.”

Quincy’s lips twitched. “No, dude, it’s not. This might be, though.” He handed Diesel a piece of paper.

Diesel opened it, Dani leaning on his arm to read along with him. She met Diesel’s gaze, then looked at Quincy, her eyes wide. “You ran financials on Laurel Masterson’s med school roommate.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Quincy said. “I found that on a printer.”

Troy rolled his eyes. “I asked him to run it.”

“I found it on a printer,” Quincy insisted, glaring at Troy.

“Like they’re gonna tell,” Troy said with another eye-roll. “It’s fine, Quince.”

Diesel snickered. “Blaming it on the printer was never going to work, Quincy. But thanks, and I won’t tell a soul. Why did you ask him to run it, Troy?”

“Because I didn’t like how she answered Jeremy’s questions last night when we asked her about Laurel’s disappearance. And she drives a brand-new Miata.”

“Not that expensive,” Dani said, taking the printout and scanning the numbers, “unless you’re a third-year med student.”

“With no visible means of support,” Troy added. “Her student loans are being paid monthly by someone else and she’s got a nice balance in her bank account.”

“With a big fat deposit the month after Laurel Masterson dropped out of med school,” Diesel said. “I’ll look into who’s paying her loans.”

Troy smiled. “I kind of thought you might.”

“But why didn’t the cops find this when Laurel’s brother insisted she hadn’t just run away with this guy?” Diesel demanded.