When I called Lieutenant Hopkins, I made sure to do it from the gym phone. Stupid to use my cell when Simon got the bill.

Hopkins didn’t answer, which was just as well. I left him a message: “This is Jay Thornton, calling from Eastside Boxing. I’m calling to confirm your beginner adult Muay Thai class this Thursday at eight-thirty pm. Gloves and headgear will be provided for you.” Hopkins would be smart enough to come.

He showed, five minutes early, wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt that strained over his gut. Captain Internal Affairs obviously needed to get away from the desk more often. That became increasingly clear when he barely made it through the warm-up. Even McCrary could’ve run circles around this guy.

“Split into pairs,” I called out, after we’d done some technique exercises. I caught Hopkins’s eye. “You, with me.” He stood in front of me and I lifted my gloves. He did the same.

“What am I doing here?” he asked in a low voice, after ducking my jab.

“Sparring.”

He shot an uppercut to my chin but I blocked it. I moved in close and adjusted his hands. “Simon has a lot of connections. It was safer to meet here.”

I stepped back.

“You’re going to help me then?” He swung. I swung. Our feet shuffled against the mats.

“Depends on what you want.” Louder, I said, “Right, left, right, uppercut.”

He did what I said. “I know how to box, you know.”

I dodged easily. “Looks like it’s been awhile.”

I turned away and called a switch-up of partners. We didn’t speak again until class had ended. As the other students filtered out, Hopkins approached me at the desk.

“Enjoy the class?” I asked as one of my regulars passed, nodding a goodbye.

“Verdict’s still out,” Hopkins replied. He took a drawn-out swig from his water bottle, no doubt waiting for the place to clear out.

I pulled out an information sheet and pushed it across the desk to him.

He bent over it, speaking low. “I want to hear about Ting, not beginner Muay Thai. What is your relationship with him?”

“It’s complicated.” Talking about it meant dredging up my past, my old foster family, the charges against me, and I had no interest in going there.

“Look, you called me,” Hopkins said. “Which means you want something.”

I wanted freedom. And the only way to get that was by putting Simon behind bars. But selling him out wasn’t so easy. Loyalty was a hard thing to shed.

“Officer Ting is a good cop. He’s put more than his fair share of criminals behind bars.” Hopkins pointed to a place on the sheet, showing me.

This ruse might have been unnecessary but I didn’t want to risk it. I took the paper from him. “Then why are you investigating him?”

“I’ve had my eye on him for a while. His arrests are too clean. Not to mention that mansion of his outside the city. Apparently, it was inherited, but something seems off. And then I came across this.”

He put his gym bag on top of the desk, rummaging around inside before slipping out a picture and laying it on the desk by the bag so that anyone outside wouldn’t be able to see. The picture was of Simon getting into a sedan, the windows tinted.

I gave him a questioning look.

“That car belongs to Rance Aguda.” He paused. I said nothing. “Why would Officer Ting get into a car with Rance Aguda?”

“Is Aguda in the car?”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

Hopkins quickly shoved the picture back in his bag. “I’m not lead on Aguda’s case. Organized Crime Bureau is handling that. I got this photo surveilling Ting.”

Hopkins stumbled onto something bigger than he expected.

“They met,” I said. “But I don’t know why or what for.” Which was the truth.

“Can you find out?”

I hesitated.

“Listen, if I nail Ting and Rance Aguda, it’ll be my chance to get out of Internal Affairs.” He leaned toward me. “But I’ll get fried if I go anywhere near Aguda. Simon’s the key, and I know you work for him. What exactly does he have you doing?”

I pressed my lips together. He wouldn’t leave that question alone.

Hopkins shrugged on a sweatshirt. He kept his face pleasant as he spoke. “I’ve got evidence of Simon meeting with a number of known criminals. What’s he got going on the side? Drugs?”

“No. No drugs.”

“What then?”

I didn’t answer.

“I know Aguda is the big fish here, but there’s something off about Simon Ting. I don’t like dirty cops. I don’t respect them. And it looks to me like he’s been rolling around in the mud. But I need evidence.”

I handed him the Muay Thai info sheet. “I’ll think about it.”

Frustration crossed his face, but I wasn’t about to pledge myself right then and there. When I had something to share, something I knew wouldn’t get traced back to me, then I’d take it to Hopkins. For now, all he needed to know was that I was considering his offer.

“Thanks for the class,” Hopkins said. “If I come again, maybe you’ll have a bit more for me.”

I shrugged. “Come again and we’ll see.”