“Got an extra one of those?” he asked, stepping out into the carport. He’d left the door open, so he could see Abernathy. Cerise handed him a pack of American Spirit Organics and a lighter.
“I thought you’d be a Newport smoker.”
“Why, because I’m black?”
It wasn’t an unreasonable supposition, but it wasn’t the stereotype he’d been thinking of. “Mostly because you’re a nerd. Every hacker I’ve ever met smokes Newport Menthols.”
“I’m a vegetarian. American Spirits use all organic tobacco. It’s better for you and the environment.”
He paused to think that one through. Aside from cheese rolling, NPR had also taught him that one of the most common pollution items was the filter tips off cigarettes. Not to mention the chemical laced anti-burn ring at the end of the filter which stopped a cigarette from burning. He didn’t think that slightly less poisonous qualified as better for anyone.
“You do realize that it’s not the chemicals that cause cancer, right?”
Cerise looked sour. “Not really a smoker, are you?”
He lit up. “Everyone smokes in the joint. With all that secondhand smoke, even the non-smokers are smokers. I don’t usually on the outside, but every once in a while I miss it.”
“Peri doesn’t like smokers, you know.”
Shark took another drag to make his point.
She laughed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t looked. She waved it in your face pretty good.”
“All men are window shoppers. Doesn’t mean I’m buying. What’s her deal, anyway?” He liked Peri, perhaps too much. She reminded Shark of something Geier had said about him, but that didn’t mean they were really all that similar. After all, Peri had family and appeared to actually have a shot at graduating from high school. “It’s like she’s some sort of teenage crime savant. How’d you two meet?”
Cerise eyed him, as if weighing what to say. “Her boyfriend’s in the same class as my cousin. A couple of years ago we got introduced. Next thing I know she pops up and offers me cash for some work. Which couldn’t have come at a better time for me, so I took a shot.”
He noticed that she’d managed to work in the boyfriend, but not actually say much about her own relationship with Peri.
“So, she would have been, what, fourteen?”
“More or less. Like you said, teenage crime savant.”
“Does her boyfriend know that she’s…?”
“The Godmother? Hell no. And I highly recommend not even hinting that you might tell him. She gets downright bitchy if you bring him up. Which is weird, because I heard he started doing dirt for Tall Jimmy. But that’s none of my business. Anyway, if you want to know about Peri, ask Peri.”
Shark shrugged, backing off. “Not trying to pry. But we’ve never worked together before. Like you said, she just popped up. And it’s seems like it’s going OK, but I like to get the lay of the land.”
“Yeah,” agreed Cerise. Again, he could see that she was choosing her words with care. “Well, for what it’s worth, it’s my basic rule that when I’m on a job with her, I stick to the plan and do what she tells me.”
“Toe the line?” He raised an eyebrow, blew out smoke. “You seem more like the rebel type.”
She shook her head, long braids swinging. “Got to be smart enough to know when and where to be a rebel. The kids she works with do as they’re told, and it goes great, but the adults…” she shook her head. “Adults are always like, she’s a kid, I can steamroll her.”
“How does that work out for them?”
“Last guy I saw try it,” Cerise said, “got hit by a train. Like an actual fucking train. Grossest thing I’ve ever seen—arms and legs everywhere. She got called in to broker this thing. Everything went OK, right up until the guy tried to run off with the money. I’m freaking out because he had a gun. Peri tells him that it’s a bad idea, and he laughed at her and then turned around to sprint across the train tracks and bam! I’m standing there thinking about barfing or screaming and Peri looks at her cell phone and goes, Yup, the 7:15 Amtrak. Always on time. I mean, it was actually 7:45, so beats me how she timed that. Then she went over and pried the bag of money out of his hand, you know, from where it had landed, took out her cut, handed the rest to me and walked off. After that, I don’t question. I stick to the plan.”
Shark stubbed out the cigarette.
Inside, Abernathy was holding up equally hideous shirts. Shark’s face must have registered his distaste and Cerise chuckled.
“That guy is a disaster,” Cerise said, following him in. “I cannot believe he’s managed to live this long.”
“God takes mercy on the stupid and weak,” murmured Shark.
By seven the next morning, Cerise had her ten grand, Abernathy was on a train to Utah, and Shark’s retirement fund was a lot more solvent. Shark wondered how long it would take Big Paulie’s partner to realize the money was missing. Of course, the real question was whether or not he could keep Geier from finding out. Shark flopped down on the Geier-owned bed at the Geier-owned condo and pulled the Geier-owned pillow over his head. Geier owned everything, including Shark, and if he found out that Shark had helped himself to Big Paulie’s stolen funds, Shark would be lucky to only get a bullet to the brain.
He checked that his gun was in easy reach and decided to worry about dying after he’d had some sleep.
Friday ~ October 20
17
Shark: The Condo
The doorbell jolted him awake. He checked his phone and reached for his gun at the same time. 11:15. He’d gotten more sleep in prison. He pulled on some sweats and walked to the door.
Through the peephole he could see Marko, finger poised to ring the bell again.
“You hate me or what?” asked Shark, yanking open the door.
“Late night?” Marko shoved a coffee into his hand and pushed past him into the condo.
“Yes. What’s up? Stop looking suspicious. There’s no one here. You can talk.”
“The Bowling Alley got hit last night,” announced Marko, plunking himself down at the kitchen table.
“What does that mean exactly?”
“I went in this morning to open up, the back door was jimmied and the office was ransacked.”
Shark took a meditative sip of the coffee; it tasted like chocolate had been doing bad things to it. He was going to have to buy a French Press. So far suburban coffee was shit.
“You don’t look surprised,” said Marko.
“I’m not.” Shark knuckled sleep out of his eyes. “I’ve made progress on the Abernathy problem. Word is that Big Paulie liked to hide the cash he was skimming in the office at the bowling alley. Intel also says that either Paper or Two Tone was in on it.”
Marko grunted. “Makes sense. But if there was money, then it ain’t there now. This Ukrainian hit better come through. We’re going to need that cash, or Geier’s going to put our balls in a vise.”
“Agreed. But we’ve both searched that office for cash and come up with nothing.”
“I went through every nook and cranny in the place. I tapped the walls for a safe. And whoever went through it last night did the same. Only with a lot more force. I don’t understand it, personally. You don’t have to make a mess to search a place and it’s a dead giveaway that you were there. I find it unprofessional.” Marko looked peeved.
“It’s anger,” said Shark.
Marko considered this. “So maybe they didn’t find the money after all?”
“Maybe not. Do you know how to get building plans? I think we should get the plans for the bowling alley. But do it quietly, huh?”
“I can do that. What do you want to do about the gig tonight?”
“Nothing. We stick to the plan. We’ll deal with this mess afterwards.”
18
Shark: Blue Street
>
He waited until about three—proper visiting hours—before cruising to Blue Street. The front yard of Paper’s house was a slow burn of activity. The boys were lethargically clearing the junk off the front lawn. Domingo, spotting his car, approached. The “male” box was no longer by the curb.
“Get Paper,” Shark told Domingo. The kid nodded and dashed into the house.
He cut the engine and got out, leaning against the driver’s side door until Paper came out, looking uncertain as he pulled on a sweatshirt. If anything, his bruises had only gotten worse.
“We need to talk,” said Shark.
Paper eyed the car. “I got to keep an eye on my guys. They don’t clean for shit.”
Shark was pleased that Paper was showing a few sparks of intelligence. He should be nervous about getting in Shark’s car. Now it was time to find out how smart Paper really was. “Sure, we’ll walk.”
Paper breathed a sigh of relief, zipping up his sweatshirt as they fell into step.
Shark waited until they were out of earshot. “Everyone ready for tonight?”
“Yeah. We’re ready to rock n’ roll.”
“Good.”
Paper looked skeptical. “You didn’t come over here just to check on us.”
“No, I came to talk about the situation this territory is in. You know why I’m here, right? Big Paulie was siphoning cash.”
“I wasn’t in on that,” Paper said.
“Someone was.” Shark reminded him.
“I wasn’t involved! If you think it was me just because we had that beef at the bowling alley, think again,” said Paper. “You gotta understand my position. It’s not OK to not do hand-outs for a serious score like that.”
“Paper, I understand your position, but what I’m telling you is that Geier does not give a shit. He sent me out here to assess whether or not he should take the nuclear option and wipe all your asses off the face of the planet.”
Paper was silent for a minute. “You’re saying that this money will keep him from doing that?”
“Yes. But what it will not do is stop him from looking for Big Paulie’s partner,” Shark said.
“I’m telling you, that wasn’t me.”
“Considering that up ‘til now you’re the only one who’s been straight with me about what you want, I’m inclined to believe you. But that kind of only leaves me one suspect.” Shark waited for Paper to do the math.
“Two Tone? But he’s been with the organization a long time…”
“But Big Paulie brought him in.”
Paper shrugged. “Big Paulie brought all of us in. But if Two Tone was skimming the cash, why hasn’t he been living high?”
“Because living high is the surest way to get caught. Maybe he’s smarter than that.”
Paper looked like he was having new thoughts. They rounded the corner, heading back toward the house. “But if it’s Two Tone, then he’s going to try and kill you,” Paper said finally.
“Yes,” agreed Shark.
“Because if you tell Geier that Two Tone was in it with Big Paulie, then Geier will definitely kill him. But if he kills you, then he might be able to cover it up.”
“Yes. That is why he is not going with me on the hit tonight.”
“Oh,” said Paper. More mental math. “But he is going with me.”
“Bingo. And now you know why I’m here.”
“You want me to keep an eye on Two Tone tonight?”
“And I want you to watch your back,” Shark told him. “Like I said, so far you’re the only reliable guy I’ve got in this place. Geier will want reliable guys. You know, once this whole thing is over.”
“Right,” said Paper. “Right. I will watch Two Tone. You can count on me. I’ve got your back.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” They had now returned to Paper’s house. “By the way, I like the improvements.” Shark gestured to the patch of scrubby grass that could be seen. “Keep up the good work.” He wondered if that was pushing it. “I’ll see you tonight.”
He was several blocks away when his phone rang. He set the phone on speaker. “Hey Marko. You get the building plans?”
“My guy will have them for me around 4:30. I’ll pick them up before tonight’s rendezvous. How’d it go with Paper?”
“Paper is now watching Two Tone and Two Tone is watching Paper. Something ought to come out of that.”
Marko laughed. “Hopefully they don’t decide to join forces.”
“Don’t fucking jinx us,” Shark said.
19
Peregrine: Mom
Peri looked into her closet and let out a deep breath of dissatisfaction. No elastic waist band. Don’t look Latina. Didn’t he know that was severely limiting her options? How was she supposed to look distracting without elastic? Lycra was the go-to fabric for sexy.
And she wanted to look sexy.
Because it was her job tonight.
Peri glanced in the mirror and her mirror self gave her a look. Peri let out another sigh. Yeah, no one was buying that. She wanted to look good for Shark. It was just that thinking about Shark was so not what she was supposed to be doing. It was, in fact, the exact opposite of what she was supposed to be doing. She should be thinking about Trey.
Peri pulled out some black jeans and held them up in the mirror. They were kind of mom jean-ish, but not in a good way.
She was thinking about Trey. She was thinking about how glad she would be when she could stop worrying about Trey. Which was unfair. He was absolutely the best friend she had left. It was just that the best friend she had left was currently a problem. And Al was a problem. And the kids at school were a problem. And, and, and. Right now, the only person who wasn’t a problem was Shark.
She knew he was a bad idea—too old, too experienced, too dangerous—but somehow when they were alone that didn’t seem to matter. Talking to him felt like the first time she’d actually talked—openly or honestly—to anyone in years. Being with Shark was like walking out of a smoke filled room and into fresh air. And, of course, it didn’t hurt that he was fucking hot.
“Hey sweetie,” said her mom, leaning into the bedroom. “Are you going to the game tonight with Trey?”
“That was the plan,” said Peri. Her mother, petite, blonde and deceptively soft looking, rarely demanded much from Peri, but on the few times she did the requests weren’t really requests.
“I was thinking about going out with the girls, but that means I won’t be back until late. Is that going to be a thing?”
“No, that’s fine. I think Trey wants to go see his mom at the hospital after the game, so I’m probably just going to be crashing out and hogging the TV anyway.”
Her mother laughed. “Don’t watch ahead on the DVR without me.”
“I won’t. I’m still not caught up on last season!”
“OK, love you baby.” She came into the room to kiss Peri.
“Love you too, Mom.”
“Those are cute jeans! You should wear those more often!”
Peri nodded and waited until her mother left before reaching for the scissors.
20
Shark: Jackson Avenue
The rendezvous point was under an overpass. It was heavily overgrown, a good place to park, and connected via a greenbelt to the yards along Jackson Avenue. Marko and Zip had rousted the homeless that had been encamped there earlier and were waiting for him. Shark and the two Fives who had been selected for the mission arrived nearly simultaneously. He flipped up his coat collar against the chilling bite of the late-October wind and eyed the two men doubtfully. One looked like SWAT and Goodfellas had produced a child, if the child was Asian and enjoyed a lot of gym time. The other looked like a Dalai Lama devotee who, judging by the classic Ingram Mac-11 strapped to his chest, had missed the memo on non-violence.
Paper,
Domingo, and another of the Blue Street Crew arrived in a drop-top Caddie. Two Tone pulled up right behind them in a Lexus.
There was some muted chatter as everyone greeted each other. Paper looked awkward, but then it was hard to look cool with two black eyes and a bandaged nose. Domingo and the other Blue Street kid were sticking close to him.
Shark waited for everyone to settle. Marko drifted through the crowd to find him. “Equipment’s in the trunk,” said Marko, taking a toothpick out his mouth. “My head count says we’re all here except for the girl.”
“I’m here,” said Peregrine, stepping out of the darkness. They all turned.
Tonight she was wearing slouchy cowboy boots, pink over purple fishnet stockings, and a pair of cutoff black jean shorts. She’d paired this ensemble with a pink satin letterman’s jacket. She’d feathered her hair out and added some green streaks. Make-up trended towards Goth.
“Where’d you get that outfit?” someone called.
There was an art to staring someone down. Too long and they thought you didn’t have a retort, too short and you seemed rushed. Peri nailed the timing perfectly. “Your mom’s closet.”
There was a ripple of laughter, but Shark distinctly heard Domingo tell his friend, “Baby Shark.” He wasn’t sure what to think about that.
“All right,” said Shark, calling the meeting to order. “Paper, Two Tone, see me. Everyone else see Marko for your equipment.”
Paper avoided eye contact with Shark. Peri loitered behind them.
“You have the keys?”
Two Tone jingled the spare set to Tall Jimmy’s car. Shark checked his watch. “All right, then get out of here. We’ll give you a sixteen-minute head start. Text when you’ve got the car.” The two nodded and headed out.
“Can I stash my backpack in your car?” Peri asked Shark, hefting the nondescript army-green backpack she toted everywhere. It looked extra full tonight. He opened the door for her. She leaned to toss it into the back seat and about half the men present craned to see her bend over. He wanted to not mind that, but he still did.
Shark's Instinct (Shark Santoyo Crime Series Book 1) Page 9
