Reno gave him an apologetic look. “She feels sorry for him, like one of those damn animals she’s always rescuing.”

“Yeah, she took you in.” Wheeler snorted and twirled the pencil around on his desk.

Everyone knew April had a compassionate heart, but no one in the house had been thrilled the time she rescued a wild squirrel with a cut on its nose. It got loose in the house, and they found it two days later nesting in Denver’s underwear drawer.

Reno scratched his jaw and leaned forward on his elbows. “Anyhow, I had another talk with him not long ago, and he confirmed Delgado’s been getting deeper into our world. He’s purchased some clubs and—”

“Breed clubs?”

“Affirmative. The latest rumor is Delgado’s running cage fights. I recently had a case that hit a wall, but Delgado’s name was mentioned.”

Fuck. Wheeler’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. Everyone knew it still went on in the dark corners of the underworld, but you rarely heard about it within city limits. Anyone caught operating fighting rings would be skinned alive by the higher authority. Cage fights were usually run in rural areas of the country—outside the reach of the law. Shifters would fight against each other in animal form while rich assholes placed bets. Sometimes it was consensual, sometimes it wasn’t. Usually the latter. Most fighting rings acquired their Shifters off the black market; it was cleaner and didn’t leave a trail. Sometimes children were purchased as a future investment, and they would be raised to be as ruthless as their animal would allow. These young boys grew up to become savage warriors without a conscience—prize fighters that brought in millions for big fights.

Wheeler flicked the pencil out of reach. “What does this have to do with the stripper?”

Reno stood up and tucked his hands beneath his armpits. “Don’t you think it’s a coincidence that two strippers have gone missing, both Shifters, and the club happens to be run by Delgado? A man rumored to be involved with cage fights? Do the math, brother.”

Wheeler’s jaw slackened.

“No one misses a stripper,” Reno continued. “He’s got inside access to unmated, replaceable women. Look, you have experience working for men with a lot of money, and I wanted to see what you thought of all this. I don’t know how much money is involved with cage fights, but would it be worth buying up clubs to get access to disposable fighters?”

Wheeler waved a hand dismissively. “Whatever he paid for those clubs is a drop in the bucket compared to what he could be earning in cage fights, especially if he’s the one organizing the fights. If he’s just selling fighters, that’ll bring in a little money, but it depends on what their animal is and how stupid of a buyer he can find.”

“What do you mean?”

“Certain animals are valued higher. Panthers aren’t easy to come by, so they’re the crème de la crème. Sometimes they’ll pluck a rogue alpha off the streets, but not many investors will buy a stripper just because she’s a grizzly or a tough predator. You know the old saying about how it’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the fight in the dog? They have to be selective with who they buy off the black market because of the money they’re paying, so maybe the strippers are just part of the warm-up fight before the big show. Something to titillate the big bettors—show off the skills of the middle-grade fighters they’re trying to sell off. I’ve worked for some shady men in my past, but none of them dabbled in anything like this—at least not that I knew about.”