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“Go on.”
“I picked up on a sale of a derelict warehouse by MIA.”
“Okay.”
“It was paid for by wire transfer from a bank in Moscow.” He taps away at his keyboard so casually. “Naturally, such activity promoted me to investigate further.”
“Naturally,” I murmur, noticing James shaking my head in amazement.
“And I found another unit half a mile up the dirt track that’s been paid for by wire transfer from a bank in Mexico City.”
My mouth falls open. “That’s kind of convenient.”
“I thought so too.” He snaps the lid of his laptop closed. “So, given the evidence, I’d say the Russians and the Mexicans, both of which have beefs with us, might be joining forces.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same,” I say, thoughtful. “That’s quite a force.” There’s familiar worry on everyone’s faces. “And to add to our problems, we’ve got Bernard King as the possible supplier of their weaponry.” I smile. “Fabulous. Oh, and let’s not forget the few drive-bys and the fact that Amber Kendrick’s body’s just turned up.” For fuck’s sake. “I need some breakfast.” I get up and go to the bar, pouring myself a Scotch, necking it. “And in addition, Daniel’s school principal threw him out as a direct result of a cop called Bean who’s been trying to blackmail Nolan for information on us in return for keeping his mouth shut about the fact that Nolan is Brad’s kid.” I exhale, smiling. “Everyone clear?”
“Clear,” everyone grunts.
“And I’ve somehow got to convince my wife to go back to St. Lucia.”
Goldie sighs. “God, you poor, delusional fuck.”
I glare at her. “Don’t come back here with your attitude on steroids after stuffing ice creams.” I get up in her face, and she grins.
“Sorry, boss.”
I’m not stupid, she’s humoring me. And she’s also right. I’m fucking delusional. I look at James, ready to ask what he plans on doing with Beau, but he’s staring across the room, his mind obviously spinning.
“Oi,” I yell. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking . . .” he hums.
“James, for fuck’s sake, what are you thinking?” I need more brain power, because mine’s knackered.
“I’m thinking we break this down into small, manageable pieces.”
“The fuck?” I breathe, as Goldie and Ringo chuckle. “You been taking parenting classes?”
He stands, tall, intimidating, and pissed off, and I step back, wary. “We’ll start with Bean.”
“He’s out of state on a training course,” Otto pipes in.
“How the fuck do you know this shit? Where?”
“That, I can’t tell you.”
Which means it’s some police secret shit. Is he trying to move up the ranks? “When’s he back?”
Otto peeks up at me tiredly.
He can’t tell me that either. Fabulous. We’re making fucking strides.
“No one says anything to Brad about Nolan. Act normal.” Until I know how I’m going to break it to him, and when. I would have kept it between me and James, but Otto walked in on us, followed by the others, and I couldn’t hide my shock. Even when I got home, I had to tell Rose. Had to. Fuck, I need a cuddle. I feel like we’re getting precisely nowhere. “I’m going to find my wife.”
“Danny, wait,” Otto calls, pulling me to a stop halfway down the corridor.
“What?” I ask, facing him.
