Nash waited outside the bathroom door, his back leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.
The sound of water running was his signal, the information he needed were somewhere in here. This was his shot, but he had to be careful, nothing proved she wasn't testing him.
Victoria could have set this up, Dahlia playing drunk to see if he'd snoop. One wrong move, and it was over.
There was no room for mistakes.
He moved to the desk, hand sliding over the smooth wood, fingers tracing the drawers without a sound. He pulled the first one open slowly, papers inside, receipts for booze and stims, nothing odd.
Next drawer, files on team sponsors, Breakball bets from shady groups. Interesting, but the usual stuff down there, offers from gang-backed businesses to fund Blacklist, names like "RRR Syndicate" with interesting credits amounts, but no dirt.
