It was what Richmond had always suspected—the reason why Jack Reynolds’s shipments always made it through. If it was true, and Leo could identify the corrupt officials involved, it would be a game-changer. This was why Richmond had been willing to risk so much. “And you can get names?” Archie asked.

“He’s grooming me,” Leo said. “It’s a family business. He wants his kid to run the store. The man is loath to give anything up. But he knows he has to.”

“What kind of law enforcement?” Archie asked.

Leo poured more whiskey in his glass. “I don’t know.”

“DEA?” If Jack had someone in the DEA, Leo was in even greater danger. Richmond had protected him as a source all these years. But with Richmond dead, Leo would get a new contact.

Leo chuckled and lifted the glass to his mouth. “Probably,” he said. “Richmond worried about that. He always told me that if anything ever happened to him, to assume DEA was compromised. He said the Bureau would step in. They’ve been running their own investigation, but they don’t have anyone inside.”

There were only a handful of people who knew Leo was working against his father. If the FBI was taking over, Archie knew there was only one person Richmond would have trusted to run the operation.

Leo lifted an eyebrow. “You know who my new contact is, don’t you,” he said.

Someone banged on the door. Archie and Leo barely had a chance to exchange a glance before the person on the other side pushed the door open a crack. “Leo?” a gruff voice called through the opening. Leo signaled the dancer with his hand and she spun off the pole and moved in front of Archie just as a man pushed through the door. Archie kept his eyes on the dancer in front of him, but he could see the man’s reflection in the mirrored walls. He was tall and broad, with a face that had seen too many fists up close. Scar tissue had left his flesh lumpy and his features lopsided. His cheekbones and nose looked like they had been broken and reset more than once by someone who had no future in otolaryngology. His hair was a thick graying tangle that hung in wisps against his shoulders. His upper arms were the size of Archie’s thighs. No, Archie thought. Bigger. The dancer rotated her hips in low slow circles, her eyes leveled at Archie. Archie swallowed hard.

The man took in the scene with barely a flicker of eyeball movement, and Archie had the feeling that he’d been watching on a monitor somewhere, and that he knew exactly what he’d find.

“What are you doing?” the man asked Leo.

“Celebrating with a friend,” Leo said, lifting his glass. “Are you following me, Cooper?”

“He’s a cop,” Cooper said with an almost imperceptible nod in Archie’s direction.