Robin Bailey didn’t reply to the two messages and decided to leave them unanswered. As for Kimi Hall, Robin Bailey had left someone behind, but since Mimi Beckett had sent someone too, he considered it a favor.
At this moment, Jeff Reczek returned and said, “Boss, the Braton family is suddenly looking for a handsome man in his twenties with sharp eyebrows in the city. Don’t know what they want.”
“In his twenties, sharp eyebrows, handsome… Sounds like they’re describing me?” Robin Bailey rubbed his chin. “Especially the last part, quite fitting.”
“Hehe.” Jeff Reczek suddenly stuck out his tongue in a weird manner, making Robin Bailey’s scalp tingle. “Where did you learn that gesture?”
“From Leslie. She does it often,” Jeff Reczek explained, touching his head.
“She’s a little girl; you’re a big guy. Don’t imitate Leslie; it’s weird,” Robin Bailey said.
“Oh.” Robin Bailey shook his head before getting back to the main topic. “But it shouldn’t be about me; after all, they have my photo.”
“Right. Another group of their people is searching the city for Patrick Bailey. They have his photo too,” Jeff Reczek added.
The photos were obtained from surveillance cameras. Big Tech Group also had surveillance, but Elijah Wilson didn’t dare ask for it, and Elijah Wilson didn’t want to provide it. It was more exciting to keep such things for later.
“Boss, he’s here.” Suddenly, Jeff Reczek pointed to a guy across the street.
The man was in his twenties, around 1. 7 meters tall, holding a surfboard, heading towards the beach. Their current residence, Akita Villa, was close to the beach.
The man seemed ordinary, but his identity was intriguing. Not from a wealthy family, he had a few million at home, and his character was quite carefree.
Grover Holt.
Stuart Holt’s brother, protected by his older brother, had some influence. He was well-mannered, not oppressive, and loved coming to Akita Villa for surfing.
That was why they chose to stay there.
Stuart Holt’s whereabouts were unknown, but his brother might have some information.
“Now is not the right time to make contact. It would be strange if they found out. Let’s wait. According to the information, after surfing, he likes doing something thrilling,” Robin Bailey said.
He then returned to the room with Jeff Reczek.
At around 11 a. m., Grover Holt indeed went for something thrilling-gambling! No, not exactly gambling. There was a grand poker game at Akita Villa. Every day at 11 a. m., a room would open for a poker game, which was a form of gambling.
Grover Holt also enjoyed it, but today was different. After picking up his cards, his face immediately crinkled, and he glanced at the person opposite him. The person smirked and played his cards.
“No need to look; you’ve lost, Grover Holt. This is your 17th loss today. Do you still have money?” Tad Buckley said, taunting from across the table.
These two were arch-enemies, not friends. So even a simple poker game could spark intense competition. This time, Tad Buckley was genuinely happy.
However, Grover Holt’s expression was truly unpleasant, not because he lost 17 times, but because he had been losing for five consecutive days. Nearly 90 losses had frustrated him beyond measure. Seeing Tad Buckley’s smug face made him want to explode.
But, there was no reason to explode. He had lost fair and square, and he had to admit his lack of skill.
“Fine, fine, I won’t play anymore.” Grover Holt threw his cards, then threw a stack of money on the table, and angrily left.
“Thank you, Master, for your help this time,” Tad Buckley said, giving a larger stack of money to an old man beside him. Although Grover Holt had lost more than him, Tad Buckley had won less money, yet he was genuinely happy about defeating Grover Holt.
“Hehe.” The old man took the money and showed his yellow teeth with a smile.
At this moment, Tad Buckley, feeling frustrated, sat on a bar counter, not in the mood to flirt or do anything else. He just wanted to drink alone and forget about his nine days of consecutive losses.
Suddenly, a man sat next to him.
“A bottle of beer,” the man raised his hand.
“No insurance, no business, and I’m out of money,” Grover Holt said without looking.
“No,” the man shook his head. “I know why you’re out of money.”
“Oh? Come to mock me?” Grover Holt’s expression turned even more unpleasant.
“No.” The man shook his head again. “Since I’m treating myself to this bottle of beer, I can tell you why you’ve been losing.”
“You!” Initially, Grover Holt thought it was Tad Buckley who sent someone to mock him, but then he realized it wasn’t. The man continued, “I know you’re out of money.”
“Well… still have three hundred…” Grover Holt touched his head, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Enough. After I finish this beer, I’ll go with you. When the time comes, watch my hand gestures,” the man said while drinking his beer.