Sweet Little Lies

Chapter Sixty-Seven

The neon dive bar was filled with the regular crowd. A myriad of colors shown all around, even more neon lights than the last time he was there.

Griffin scanned the room. He knew Fizzy wouldn't be in the poker room or near the slot machines. He spent his money solely on alcohol.

The familiar bowler hat bobbed as the man he was looking for walked out of the hallway near the restrooms. He stumbled his way over to the same booth he always sat at, plopping down and waving over to the bar for another drink.

Griff weaved through the tables, making eye contact once they were a few feet away. Fizzy looked unbothered, not a nervous bone in his body. Honestly, Griff wouldn't be surprised if he was just permanently numb from all the drugs and alcohol throughout the years.

He tipped his chin at Griffin as he sat down opposite him, then took a long pull of his beer.

"Drink?" He asked.

"No." Griffin said, "I'm here for something specific."

"Go for it." Fizzy encouraged. His eyes were less clouded over than usual, then again it was earlier than Griffin normally came by.

Griffin's eyes automatically scanned his surroundings, double-checking to make sure no one was paying them any attention. "Local business owner." He started, "Owns the strip club on main in oldtown. Just bought a building on Blossom Street, near the old army base."

Fizzy didn't even blink.

Griffin continued, "Goes bit the name Max-"

"Peters." The older man interrupted, letting out a belch, "Yeah, the guy's been super successful since coming to town."

"How long's he been in Queenstown?"

Fizzy tapped his fingers against the sticky wood top of the table. Without waiting, Griff slid him some money.

"About a year and a half. Heard he came from Port City." Fizzy added, "Heard he's also got a little problem."

He tensed, "What problem?"

"Has a specific type." Fizzy said casually, "Likes it rough. He's getting a reputation around all the clubs and on Bailey Street."

Bailey Street was a known sex worker pickup spot.

"Make sure to spread it around not to work with him. It's not safe for those women." Griffin told him.

Fizzy's brows raised, "Kind of hard to tell that to people who need money."

"Money doesn't do shit when you're six feet under."

That quieted him. Fizzy sat back, taking another drink. His eyes stayed on Griffin, though, a different look to them. Contemplative.

"What's your interest in Peters?" He finally asked.

Griffin gave him a dry look. "Will you be passing that note back for my information now?"

The money Griff had given him was shoved deeply into Fizzy's pocket.

"I also heard he's been invited to the next exhibit." Fizzy said.

That peeked Griffin's interest, "The Grand Museum?"

"Mhm," he nodded, "A lot of people were invited to that."

He made a note to make sure Harry was on the invitee list. Although, he doubted he wasn't already. Him and Ivy were the most influential power couple in the city. They were invited to every big event, and there weren't many bigger than the semi-annual exhibit that the museum put on. People from across the world travelled to Queenstown to see the newest exhibits, featuring the trendiest of new artists or famous dead artists. Last fall, they had procured Frida Kahlo pieces.