Chapter 850

The moment Jason spoke, Harry caught on right away.

Harry admitted with a grin, "Yeah, Ryder's my brother. Why, you know him?"

"I do," Jason replied, glancing at the fish swimming lazily in the tank. "Hey, boss, what's the price on these silver carp?"

"Sixteen a pound," Harry answered, slipping into his fishmonger role with a practiced smile. "How about it? Want one? Ours are super fresh-just came in today."

"Alright, I'll take one," Jason said. "Could you clean it up real nice for me?"

"No problem at all. I've been doing this for years. I promise it'll be spotless," Harry replied. With swift, sure movements, he hauled a big silver carp out of the tank.

His hands worked quickly and confidently-clearly, this wasn't his first rodeo.

As Harry started prepping the fish, Jason waited nearby, making small talk. "You and your brother are twins, right? He's in finance, so how'd you end up running a fish stall?"

Harry laughed. "I never liked school much, but my brother was all about it. Now he's got his fancy desk job, and I'm not complaining either. Selling fish pays the bills and then some."

You could tell right away-Harry was the upbeat, easygoing type.

He was good at business, too. After weighing the fish—just over four pounds-he turned to Jason, "I'll call it four pounds even, make it an even sixty-four. Venmo, WhatsApp Pay, whatever-just scan here."

pulling out

pressed a hand firmly on the fish and, with the other, picked up a stick and gave the carp a quick thump on the head. The fish stilled instantly. Then, grabbing a fillet knife,

brow furrowed. That chest stab reminded him of the recent murders-each victim killed by a single

casually glanced over at the other fish vendors. They weren't stabbing the chest-they'd snip open the belly with scissors and clean out the

Harry's eyebrow. Ryder had been brought in for questioning before, no problems found. But what if

spun-suddenly, it all

Harry handed the fish over. "Here you go, man. Come

replied, taking the bag and heading

wondering if Jason really just wanted to buy

market, got in his car, and

"Detective Jason, calling me during work hours? You must be missing

to ask you something," Jason said, getting straight to the point. "The

mole? What are you talking about?"

the river. About five feet tall, smelled super fishy. We ran into him again at the hot pot

figure out-had they seen the same man both times, or two different

thought for a

short guy? Honestly,

didn't

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