The guys trailed behind Petty into the elevator, then out through the lobby and into a van waiting outside. They drove off without looking back.
As soon as Petty walked into the office, she caught bits of conversation floating around the room.
“Overdosed on drugs... When the cops got there, the whole place was trashed. Hassan still had a needle stuck in his arm, and there was even some stuff left in it. He must've gone way overboard. His body just couldn’t take it.”
Reporters always had their ways. Even though the police tried to keep Hassan’s cause of death under wraps, people in the newsroom still managed to get the scoop.
Petty slowed her steps, thinking back to her undercover days at Hassan’s now-closed club. His gang used drugs to control those lost kids, the ones who’d slipped through the cracks. She never expected Hassan to mess with that stuff himself.
Dying like that… In some twisted way, it was karma.
She had barely sat down when a message from Jared popped up on her screen: Come in for a minute.
Petty headed to the editor-in-chief’s office. Jared pointed at the door, and she closed it behind her.
It all felt a little too secretive, but she did as she was told.
“Editor-in-chief, you wanted to see me?”
Jared’s eyebrow lifted just a little.
Usually, Petty would tease him and call him by his first name. When something serious was going on, she’d switch to ‘Editor-in-chief.’ If she was really upset, she’d go back to calling him Jared. After working together for years, he’d figured out her moods just by how she addressed him.
“Hassan’s dead. What do you think about that?”
“I’m not a cop or a coroner, so what do you want me to say? If you really want my opinion, this is a story with a ton of heat…”
Jared made a sound and cut her off. “Don’t fake it. I know you’re the one who put Hassan in the hospital. You acted like you were fine with the James family’s payout, then you went and fought the guy anyway. You really have no fear, do you?”

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