Miriam leaned in even further. “Look, you know how things were after Damian killed Dad. I really appreciate you saving me, Wolfe, truly—I’d love to be allowed to show you how much someday, in fact.”

She licked her lips suggestively.

Wolfe snorted. “I’m not letting you distract me, Miriam. Just tell me what you did.”

Miriam leaned back in the huge leather booth, her eyes slightly narrowed, but then she shrugged her slender shoulders. “The Ekron Eternal was shut down, our house was gone and insurance wouldn’t pay for a ‘probably criminal bombing.’ No one could figure out where Dad had been keeping most of the loose money. We still haven’t.”

Wolfe raised an eyebrow—he was pretty sure Big Man Grimm had stashed the money somewhere—millions of it.

Miriam picked a cocktail up with one slender hand and sipped at the edge. “I was sustaining my lifestyle—and my delicious employees”—she waved at Derek and Ahmed—“by selling off the cards we got from the Frozen Cairn dungeon. But that wasn’t going to do the trick long term.”

Wolfe, reminded by Miriam taking a drink, turned to Harry. “Please bring me a whisky—you know my favorite.”

Harry nodded, but Wolfe reached out and touched his arm. “And a strawberry daiquiri for Shel.”

Harry nodded a second time and walked off, and Wolfe turned back to Miriam.

“The court made you the operator for the club since both your parents were dead and you had credible witnesses—not the least of which was your idiot brother—that Damian was the murderer. You couldn’t make money from that?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Miriam said, taking another sip. “But the club had a horrible reputation after the attacks Nico launched on it. Very few people were coming here—it wasn’t the place to be anymore. The operating costs were higher than the profit, and I was in debt.”

“So…” Shel asked.

“So, I talked to the remaining crime family leaders, starting with Benjamin Renfeldt. We made a deal. I would be their money laundering location. They send all their people through, spending a ton of money here on alcohol and entrance fees, just like with Dad. Only, I hire a bunch of fake consultants and such, transferring most of it back to the families. Very nearly everyone in the Noimoire underworld is in on it now, and a fountain of illegal money pours through this place—and I get thirty percent. Plus, the club is popular again, and a lot of legitimate money flows through it as well.”

Wolfe sighed, leaning back in the booth to match Miriam.

She frowned. “Don’t give me that, Wolfy. It’s not like you spend a lot of time on the right side of the law—and I’ve got my own men, my own business, and everything.”

“And law school?” Wolfe asked, gritting his teeth at the nickname.

Miriam smiled. “I’ll still graduate. I doubt I’ll ever do anything with it, directly, since this place makes way more money than most law firms, but it’s a handy skill to have.”

“You know I’m going to put most of the crime families out of business, right?” Wolfe asked. “Have you thought about that?”

Miriam smiled wide at Wolfe, taking her phone out and typing at it. “Oh, I definitely have. In fact, it’d be better to say I’m counting on it. This”—she waved around at the club—“is another of those businesses you can’t leave normally—I know too much about too many people. I suspect the other crime bosses are all hoping that I’ll eventually get assassinated because of that knowledge, and then their dealings will be totally secure.”

Shel laughed lightly, shaking her head.

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Miriam grinned back at her and ran one finger around the edge of her drink. “Audacious, I know. But I do have what business calls asymmetric knowledge now—I know that a certified killer everyone else thinks is dead is still gunning for them. All of them. And when they do die, whatever money is currently in the pipeline will just become mine as well. It’s perfect.”

Wolfe glanced at her. I really hope she doesn’t go full supervillain. I would truly hate to have to kill her as well, both because she’s a woman, and because I’ve known her since she was in diapers.

Even as they were talking, a sixth person slid into the booth, next to Shel, who scooted over. Wolfe glanced at the newcomer briefly, then did a double take. A short five-foot-seven, almost painfully thin, pale white with faint acne scars and brilliant green eyes under greasy black hair…

“Wolfe?!” the man asked, his eyes wide as dinner plates. “You’re alive?”

“Victor,” Wolfe said. “Your information gathering powers are amazing—you discerned the state of my life just from looking at me.”

Victor laughed, running his hand through his black hair, his eyes still wide. “It’s been like three years since I last saw you—and nine months since we talked. I thought you were dead… where have you been?”

Miriam shook her head. “Uh-uh. No asking Wolfe about that, Victor.”

Victor settled back. “Yeah, sorry. I just like to know. Well, Janine will be happy to hear that her savior managed to survive.”

Miriam held her glass out to Wolfe, then motioned to Victor with it. “Victor works for me now, Wolfe. He’s always had his ear to the ground for news about the Great Game within Noimoire, among other things. And I’ve learned some things that I want your help with. Things that can help both of us, in fact.”

Wolfe held his hands up. “Wait, wait, wait. Do that second. It sounds great, but I want some information first. I didn’t come here because of cards, I came here because of Damian. I think his half of the Grimm family might be involved in human trafficking.”

“Yeah, Victor told me about the situation—you think that’s Damian?”

“Along with others, I’m almost a hundred percent sure it’s him. What I don’t know is where the evil little dwarf is hiding, and what his connection is.”

Miriam stirred her drink again, glancing down at it for a moment. “Well, as to what his connection is, I have to admit I’m not sure. I don’t know what he’s doing at the moment, and the few attempts I’ve made to infiltrate my men into his organization have failed.”

Wolfe frowned.

Miriam looked up with a bright smile, her eyes glassy. “But if you’re looking for revenge for Dad, I know where he is. His people are constantly going to an old meat-packing plant with a ton of old warehouses nearby. It’s a huge complex, not at all small, bigger than anything Dad had—although I think it’s his only base of operations.”

She giggled, a sound with an edge to it. “Deliciously, I think he might live there.”

Then she frowned. “But no one, from the police to the local hitmen, seem willing to do anything about the information. I assume the creep is either paid up with some important people, or working with them.”

Wolfe slowly nodded. “My contact says that the police might be in on it, so that makes sense at least.”

Miriam reached into her purse and pulled a stick of red lipstick out. Then she wrote onto a napkin an address.

“Do handle my dear brother as soon as you can, Wolfy.”

“You don’t want to help?” Shel asked.

Miriam drummed her fingers on the table. “I don’t want to be anywhere near where he died because I’m a very obvious suspect. How about, I’ll keep you in information and gear, hmm?”

Then she smiled again. “Now that that’s out of the way, can we discuss my proposal?”

Wolfe nodded. “Sure, what do you want from me?”

“Well… it seems that the gods actually gave Noimoire a second arena. An underground arena, literally and figuratively. Neither Victor nor I have been able to find out who runs the place, for the moment, at least. I want to go participate, but I’m worried about the details.”

Wolfe raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “The details?”

“Well, you get taken to the arena blind-folded, and no one gets to bring cellphones or anything like that—so we’ll be out of touch. Potentially vulnerable. No slight to Ahmed and Derek, here—”

“None taken,” Derek said. “Wolfe already saved my bacon. I get it.”

“Yes, exactly. I’d rather have you around in that kind of a situation.”

Wolfe glanced over at Shel. She was grinning at him.

Wolfe turned back to Miriam. “Yeah, I think that could be… Fun, to play the Great Game with you again. When?”

“Tomorrow afternoon?”

“Not night time?”

Miriam shook her head.

Wolfe nodded. “That works out—I’ve got business to attend to tonight. I want to check the sites, see if I can find out where they’re going to do the switch, and who’s involved.”

Victor leaned in. “Do you know the sites? I can spy on them, as long as there are only a few.”

Wolfe raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Victor nodded. “Just because I’m part of Mistress Grimm’s organization, doesn’t mean that I left my skills and contacts behind. If it’s a limited number of sites, I can put my people on it, let you know when someone sees something. I can also get you any ordinance you might need.”

Most of Wolfe was incredibly excited to hear both of those things, but a small piece of him…

“Mistress Grimm?”

Miriam smiled at him, took a sip of her drink, and shrugged.