Asher was practically in tears as he faced Mr. Oliver, "Look, I'm not playin' dumb here, Mr. Oliver. Honest to God, I have no idea who the guy is. I was just the middleman, took the cash, and did the job. I swear I don't know his name or anything."
Clutching his fists, Asher gave a little shake in front of him. "You gotta at least know what the guy looks like."
"I didn't even get a good look at him. Dude was all masked up, hat on and everything. Couldn't tell ya, really."
Fuming, Asher gave him another kick for good measure. "You take on jobs from strangers without even a clue who they are? You ain't scared of ending up six feet under?"
The man replied with a helpless shrug, "I was strapped for cash. Someone waves green in my face, I get to work. That's how it is."
Asher was at a loss for words.
No matter how hard they pressed, the man didn't spill any beans about who had hired him.
All he knew was the beef between Oliver and Grant, but beyond that, nothing.
Running into a dead end, Oliver had no choice but to hand him over to the cops.
The man's pleas fell on deaf ears, and his fate was sealed.
Asher had bagged their man, but without unmasking the mastermind, he couldn't shake the unease.
Would Mr. Oliver be ticked off?
With that thought nagging at him, Asher cautiously broached the subject. "Mr. Oliver, I gave him the third degree before bringing him here. No matter the heat I put on him, he wouldn't cough up a description of the boss."
Oliver remained silent, his piercing gaze fixed on the horizon, a frown etched into his forehead.
Suddenly, Asher had the unnerving feeling that maybe, just maybe, Oliver knew who was pulling the strings all along.
That look in his eyes was telling, wasn't it?
...

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