by Ruby Vincent
Gianna pulled up the internet and searched Imperial Majesty Hotel. “There are four Imperial Majesties in the country. Another five abroad. Are you saying these board of directors built a hotel chain for cheaters and sleazes, and no one knows about it?”
“I’m saying Cash told me that day the Kings run their sex rooms out of hotels ever since The Pleasure Center was busted. He just didn’t know which ones. I’m guessing we found one. I’m also guessing—although I’m sure I’m right—that they operate under the same security. A website that doesn’t let you book without a code. Employees clocking everyone who goes in and out.”
“The Cinco sex trade has gotten way more sophisticated than we thought,” she said. “Taking it over without a weapon like the ledger will be... difficult.”
“We can’t sit around until we find Kieran. Corbin adopted the idea into his house of horrors. Others could be doing the same. We still don’t know who the miserable shit is that cuts up escorts and leaves their bodies on the docks. We have our targets among the Kings. Time to become real players in this game.”
“Knowing who we’re after doesn’t make it easier to get to them. Lorenzo Bianchi especially. The Kings will get more cautious after they discover Angelo and all of his men are dead. No more standing in front of windows or busting into unfamiliar territory. No trusting outsiders either. It’ll be harder to get close to a King like you did with the Merchants.”
“Getting close to Sinjin and the boys worked so well because I didn’t try to get close to them. Raiden Spencer was divine timing. They tracked me down. They forced me to work for them. You don’t expect a person is spying on you when you invite them in.
“It’s the same plan we had, Gianna. I was working my way to becoming the next Ryan Sinclair. Caterer to the rich and disreputable of Leighbridge society. The Kings’ preferred clients. They’d invite us into their homes—their lives—and I’d find out what I needed to break them from the Kings and bind them to me. At least until we found the ledger.”
I leaned back, trailing my eyes up to the ceiling. “I was willing to be patient. So very patient. But a certain blue-haired devil blew that plan to pieces,” I muttered. “Now, we improvise.”
“The Merchants will want to capitalize on this too. They’ll come up with their own plan, and they’ll have the men and weapons to carry it out. Are we better hanging back and going along until we find an opening?”
“An opening.”
I dropped my head, falling on the folder peeking out behind the window.
Scripts.
Otherwise known as our file on Kieran. I didn’t need to open that one.
It was empty.
“Depends,” I said. “The boys have to realize the best move from this point isn’t bloodshed. We have to be smart. Further weaken a crumbling foundation.”
She nodded. “Wiping out the Kings is one goal, but it doesn’t get us to the endgame in and of itself. If Kieran was or is one of them, we need the leverage to pull him out of hiding. We need money, babe,” she said bluntly. “Money to hire out hits, so I don’t lose my job every time an Angelo is begging to be shot. Money to buy out places like the Imperial Majesty, or offer the escorts working for thugs like the Slasher a better alternative. Money to pay off informants that will get us closer to Kieran. If we had cash like that, this bed frame would be made out of gold.”
“Gianna, you know I only come to you with solutions.” Winking, I pointed over her shoulder. “Pass me a pen and paper, please.”
Slowly, she did—giving me a funny look the whole way. She propped her chin on me as I wrote.
“Ava Graham. Jake Leon. Who are these people?”
“These are the clients of the auction,” I replied. “Corbin was nice enough to write their full name, preferences, and how much they drop every two weeks to get their particular needs met. The details are burned in my mind. They won’t go until I do something about them and now we will.
“Blackmail everyone on this list. Ava Graham was happy to drop a total of one hundred thousand dollars to sleep with a string of fifteen- and sixteen-year-old boys, she’ll have no problem paying that much to prevent her society friends from finding out. Some will pay. Some won’t. But in the end, we’ll be flush with plenty of seed money, and all of them will see their faces on the news.”
“We’re exposing them either way?” she asked.
“Yes.” My voice was little more than a hiss. “They sat in that disgusting room and watched those children be trotted on and off the auction block. All of them weren’t there for the kids, but every single one let it happen.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Gianna took the list, typing in the first name. “Drop-offs in crowded locations. I’ll get randoms to pick up the money and take it somewhere else. It’ll never be traced back to us.” She gave me a look. “Unless word gets out and your boyfriends put two and two together.”
I waved a hand. “They’ll be too busy with the Kings. And yes, as long as the boys keep cool heads and plan their next move, I’ll play along without a fuss. If not, we’ll work to achieve our own ends behind their backs.”
“This won’t be a conflict of interest for you?” Her teasing lilt let me know she was joking.
The creature unfurled her wings. Stepping into the light as the Adeline Redgrave the world knew and loved was swallowed by shadows.
“When will it be mine?”
“When you take it.”
“I can’t feel guilt for taking what belongs to me.”
FOUR DAYS.
Four days of lying in Gianna’s bed plotting, planning, and watching reruns in between earning my keep cooking her meals.
Four days of recovering. Now it was time to work.
I climbed off the bus, breathing in the air wafting from the Cuban restaurant on the corner. Raised voices poured out of the eatery. A lively mix of conversation, laughter, and singing along to the music.
A woman posted against the bus sign tossed a cigarette at my feet and raced to the front—unknowing or uncaring of my standing there. I barely noticed in the midst of dodging flyaway papers from the knocked-over newspaper stand.
Back home to Rockchapel.
I walked a familiar path to my old apartment, wishing hard for my car.
It’s not that one of the guys wouldn’t have driven it over to me. I’m certain they would have. Just as I was certain they weren’t above putting a tracker in the car. I was safer taking the bus—even if my side was sore from the elderly woman dropping her grocery bag on me.
This neighborhood does not change.
The sights, sounds, and smells were the same. The men in red bandanas idling on the corner were right where I left them. The graffiti decorating my former building was yet to be painted over.
“Addy! Where you going, girl?”
And of course, this man would never be more than fifty feet from that couch.
“I’m going your way, Captain,” I said as he fell in step with me. “Came to check on you.”
“Finally taking me up on that ride on my couch.”
Captain looked in better shape than when I’d last seen him. The clothes falling apart on his frame were new. New to me at least.
The cut healing badly above his eye a month and a half ago was a clean, jagged scar. He was fuller, as though getting semi-regular meals, and he had an overall pleased sense about him. Whether it was from following through on my help or Sinjin’s treat, I couldn’t tell. Maybe both.
“’Fraid not,” I said. “I’m taking you out to lunch. Hope that will do.”
He grinned. “Afterward, we’ll—”
“Don’t make me go for the pepper spray instead.”
Captain mumbled something that suspiciously sounded like cocktease.
The two of us looped around my building and made for a restaurant two blocks down, From Scratch.
Josephine glanced up from laying out menus. “Addy, long time no see, babe. Where have you been?”
“You didn’t
hear.” I accepted her warm hug. “I moved out. I live in North Quay now.”
Or I did.
“North Quay? Wow,” she crowed. “The lady’s moving up and forgetting about us little people.”
“Like I could. First chance I got, I hopped on a bus for more of your Italian wedding soup. I’ll have a bowl of that and whatever Captain wants.”
“Scottish chowder,” he said.
She smacked my butt with a menu. “Coming right up.”
Captain and I opted for outdoor seating, pulling up chairs under the bright green awning.
I loved From Scratch. Josephine was one of the few cooks that rivaled me in the kitchen. Her whole theme was soup. All kinds of soups from around the world, paired with their traditional sides. The best part was she made everything from the stock to the bread from scratch.
Dedication like that usually came with a high price, but hers didn’t stray far above the mom-and-pop eateries in our neighborhood. I’d be suspicious of this if I hadn’t long suspected she had other creative, criminal ways of making her money. Probably why I liked her so much.
Josephine was a sturdy pillar of warmth, frizzy hair, and muscle. If she was getting up to something in the kitchens of From Scratch, she wasn’t letting anyone get past her to find out.
But I will find out eventually. The knowledge may come in handy.
“How you been, C?” I reclined in my chair, crossing my leg over the other.
“Good, good.” Captain swept his gaze over a busy street. “Went to that shelter you told me about.”
“I’m glad. You look good.”
“Whaddya got for me?” he asked point-blank. “Usual price?”
“More,” I said, keeping the same weathered eye on our surroundings. “Triple.”
“Triple? Triple the price?” Captain tried to sound cool. He failed. “Why?”
“You saved my life. You got Sinjin’s thanks. Now you’ll receive mine.”
Captain shot forward, nearly toppling the table. “Neighborhood’s been mostly quiet. Blood Brothers, Flaming Hogs MC, Kravets family. No wars brewing.”
“The Blood Brothers that attacked us didn’t make it back to tell the rest. Am I in the clear?”
He nodded. “You took out their leader and his brother. A new guy, Silas, put out the word that info on whoever did it would reward a grand. Ivan killed him and took over less than a day later. He dropped the reward. Went around telling everyone he’d kill the bastards who messed with the Brothers. With no money involved, no one was interested in helping him find out who.”
“Glad to hear I can put that particular issue to rest,” I said. “Tell me about this Ivan guy. Sounds like a hothead.”
“He is. The BBs have gotten bolder since he stepped up. They’re jacking cars left and right. Been a lot of burglaries too. Five just last week. The couple was home for one of them, and they were both killed. The Blood Brothers haven’t taken credit, but everyone knows it’s them.”
I clicked my tongue. “That won’t do. The people in Rockchapel have it hard enough. Most of them work three jobs just to make enough to be broke. The little they have goes to running those clunky cars and keeping a roof over their children’s heads. This isn’t jacking a bunch of university kids who come here trolling for drugs and a good time. A gang looks out for their neighborhood. They don’t drain it dry.
“No,” I repeated. “Ivan’s not going to make the cut. He’ll have to go, and the rest of the BBs with him if they don’t get the message.”
“Do you... uh—” Captain leaned in closer, dropping his voice. “Need someone to take care of him? I know a couple of guys.”
I smiled. “No, C. I prefer to take care of these things myself. It’s free that way.”
“Here we are.” Josephine emerged from the café carrying a tray. She placed a vibrant, steamy broth filled with meatballs and greens in front of me. My meal was topped off with fresh bread and a Caesar salad. Captain descended on his bowl before she put it down.
“Anything else I can get you?” she asked.
“No, thank you.”
Captain and I broke off the conversation to eat.
I ate at a slower pace, thinking of the boys and what they were doing at that moment. Mercer said they got us a new place in Waterford.
And they say you can never go back home.
My fist balled on my lap. It was right that I should end up back there. It had been my mission since the first domino fell that kicked off the destruction of my life.
Waterford was where I belonged. It should be where I took my stand.
“What about outside the neighborhood?” I asked. Captain’s soup was consumed and the bowl was in the process of being licked clean. “Heard anything?”
“Uh...” Captain paused to rip off a bit of bread. “One thing,” he said around the mouthful.
“Angelo Castillo’s gone missing. The official word is he’s on vacation out of the city, but I’m not buying it. Him not turning up after the stuff with the Castian, and then half of the Kings’ properties burning down? I say someone finally set fire to the right building.”
You’re not far off, my friend.
“They like anyone for it?”
“The Merchants.”
My sip of water held on my tongue. Captain claimed my salad, chowing down unaware of my gaze sharpening on him.
I swallowed. “Is there word out about them? Names? Descriptions?”
“No idea what any of them look like, but there is one name going around,” he replied. “Sinjin.”
Of course. Sinjin called Angelo personally and announced himself. Apparently, he spread the name around. Likely while he was trying to dig up information on him.
“Just the name? Nothing else?” I pressed.
“Nothing.”
Taking a breath, I forced my fingers to unclench. Captain was everywhere no one wanted him, and anywhere I needed him. He was one of my best informants. Too good for me to give up, even though he came with a steady stream of sexual harassment. If he knew one name, then that’s all anyone else knew. Angelo didn’t get a chance to tell the Kings about the blackjack-loving Sinjin Bellisario and his companion, Adeline Redgrave.
So no one else would know that he found me. Not until he decided what to do with me.
At least the paranoid old gangster did one thing in my favor.
“That’s good, C. Exactly what I needed to know,” I said. “While I’m here, you can help me update my files. Fill me in on the others. The Flaming Hogs MC. The Kravets. Any deaths or new members?”
“Sure thing, but why do you need to know this stuff?”
“I told you.” I retrieved a pen and notepad from my purse. “One day, I’m going to clean this city up. I have to know exactly who’ll be in my way.”
He shrugged. Captain didn’t give a rat’s ass. I was the only one to look out for him since his son died twenty years ago. He’d give me all the information I asked for.
“Marko Kravet died a few days after you took off,” he began. “Heart attack. The Flaming Hogs...”
CASH
“Another beer, my man?”
“No, Coke this time.” A held up a bill without looking away. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks.” He plucked the fifty before I could change my mind. “Be right back with that Coke.”
“Hey, Tuck,” a customer called. “Where’s our food? We ordered forty-five minutes ago.”
The service in this place wasn’t the best for those not flashing fifties, but it did grant a perfect view of From Scratch.
Captain. Real name unknown. Lived on the streets for an indeterminant amount of time. Friend of Redgrave?
They seemed to be friends. Sitting there eating their soup and deep in conversation. Adeline lived in this neighborhood since she left university.
That she should want to visit was likely.
That she would take her friends out to lunch was reasonable.
That an old man hardened by years on
the street would clock everyone passing by, clamming up as they did also fell squarely within the odds. On the face, nothing about this was out of the ordinary.
I narrowed on the notepad. Except that. What’s this guy have to tell her that’s so important?
Four days since Redgrave left the hospital with her buxom friend, and for four days, I’d been tailing her.
Angelo’s body was disposed of off the docks along with his men. Final negotiations had gone through for our backroom sale of the new hideout, and the next strike against the Kings would be leveled in the time it took for me to plan it out. There was only one problem left.
Adeline.
Redgrave rose from the table. She put her notepad away and handed him a pouch from her purse. The question of whether I’d have to rob an old man was answered when he opened and pulled out the contents. Toothpaste, razor, toothbrush, and the like. It was easy to tell from across the street.
Adeline waved goodbye and set off.
I walked out as Tuck returned with my drink, paying no mind to his call.
Where to next, Redgrave?
ADELINE
“Addy!” Natalya hugged the stuffing out of me. “I missed you. How are you doing? I heard about the accident.”
“I’m much better now. All healed up.”
“And you couldn’t resist coming back to the old place.” She glanced behind her. “You might regret that. Ryan’s here.”
“That’s good. I wanted to see him.”
“Addy, if that man gets his hands on you, you’ll wake up chained to the stove.”
I laughed.
“I hope it flatters you to hear you’re irreplaceable.”
“It does.” I popped a kiss on her cheek. “Time to venture into the belly of the beast.”
I walked into the kitchen with a smile. Ryan wiped it off in six seconds flat.
“Think you can strut in here like nothing happened?”
“No, Chef.”
“Weeks. Weeks!” His cleaver split the chicken in two on the first strike. The second made his point. The third drove it home. “Weeks, Adeline. Do you know how long that is in culinary years?”
