The Shoes Come First: A Jennifer Cloud Novel

by Janet Leigh

  ~

  We entered a room decorated with dusty-blue wallpaper halfway down the wall and dark mahogany paneling from the chair rail to the floor. It contained a long executive meeting table. Black chairs lined each side of the table, and a large high-back executive chair was at the end. Caiyan and Brodie sat across from each other, both drinking coffee out of Styrofoam cups.

  Caiyan gave me a smile as I entered the room. I decided sitting next to Brodie might be a wise decision. The three suits gathered at the far end of the table.

  I sat down, and Jake placed a cup of coffee in front of me. Black, two sugars.

  “Hmm…,” I heard Caiyan remark under his breath.

  I avoided looking in his direction and focused on what Jake was saying.

  “I already have Ace’s dramatic revelation of what his part involved. We have Mitchell Mafuso with a partial concussion in a holding cell. Now I need to hear your story.” Jake sat down in the chair at the end of the table. He flipped open the file he was carrying and wrote something down. One of the suits put a small recording device on the table and nodded his head toward Jake.

  Caiyan began explaining how he didn’t know I was his transporter when we met in Scotland, thankfully skipping the part about the barn. He continued through the entire trip to 1915, with Brodie and me adding our parts in as well. When we were done, Jake asked if we had any ideas on how to get Gertie and the key.

  “How do we find the Mafusos?” I asked.

  “We know exactly where they are. Don’t we, Caiyan?” Jake asked accusingly.

  Caiyan looked at me. “The Mafusos run the Staten Island portion of the Mafia.”

  “The Mafia?” I stood, shouting. “No one told me they were the friggin’ Mafia!”

  “Still want to be a transporter?” Jake asked, smirking.

  I sat down. Caiyan continued. “Old man Mafuso still runs the show, but I’ve heard he is training Mortas to take over.”

  “Mortas does almost all the traveling; I haven’t seen the old man go back in years,” Brodie added.

  “They will want Mitchell with his key intact for the trade. But I doubt they will trade Gertie and Jen’s key. It will be one or the other.”

  “What about our inside help?” Jake asked Caiyan.

  “I’m afraid that has come to an end.” He smiled at me.

  Jake glared at Caiyan.

  “If you know where they live, why don’t you just sneak in there, free Gertie, then steal my key back?”

  “Jen, this isn’t James Bond. We cannot just sneak into someone’s very-well-guarded house,” Jake said.

  “Haven’t you ever seen The Godfather?” Brodie asked. “Breaking into the Mafia is like askin’ for a death wish. They tend to get even.”

  I looked dumbfounded. How were we going to rescue Gertie?

  “I need to go over a few details about the WTF with Jen,” Jake said. “You guys go home—get some rest. We will meet back here tomorrow at oh eight hundred hours.”

  “Roger that, Cap’n.” Brodie stood and saluted.

  Jake rolled his eyes.

  “Before you go, Brodie, summon Ace,” Jake commanded.

  “Man! Not two times in the same day. He’s goin’ to be a mite pissed; he had a date with Elton John.”

  “Get him here. Now!”

  Brodie sighed, put his hand on his key, shut his eyes, and mumbled something.

  Caiyan looked at me and smiled. “See ye later, sunshine.” They both stood and left me with an annoyed Jake.