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She gives me an address.
Chapter Twenty-Three
TIZIO
Where the fuck is Karlee?
She went to, I assume, the bathroom as Mia pointed her in the direction, and she hasn’t come back.
All around me, the attack’s been planned, allies are coming in, and both have and haven’t been affected by the blockades and price hikes. It’s a battle, not a war, and it’s going to be brief and extremely bloody.
O’Grady’s isolated his rat, and we’ve sent off some of our people along with his to get them. Information first and death later. Anyone who not just crosses him or Leo, but takes part in human trafficking isn’t long for this world.
No one can work out who the name on the computer is. The one listed as head of the Smith Group. The address is funny too. Almost like . . . almost like the rooms on campus or some of the apartments owned by the college situated farther out.
Like with that kid, Brandon, and the cat.
Harold isn’t listed at all, and while I thought he might be up to his pierced lobes in this, I think he’s just what he says on thetin. A nobody making extra cash and feeling like the big man by messing very low-grade with criminal groups.
He’s a rich kid who wants to be bad.
If I find out otherwise . . .
He’s dead fucking meat.
We’re going for broke across the board and in all the places that deal with El Cabeza and have had girls go missing.
One of the men comes in and crosses to where Leo, his father, Christian, and O’Grady talk. They all look up, exchange a look, and the guy goes and fetches a woman. She’s got dark hair, tattoos, and a definite El Cabeza vibe going on.
I pull out my iPad as Diego and Nadia begin to herd people out of the room. Blake’s got the baby, Mia has Rocco, the toddler, by the hand for Blake, and Avah’s chatting to a clearly disgruntled Jack.
I’m hoping they meet up with Karlee and take her to the living room, where I’m assuming they’re going. Nicolo and Wilder are looking at the computer. I go to them while Scarlett’s busy making calls and sending texts.
“El Cabeza?” I ask them.
Wilder nods. “News travels fast in certain circles. She’s head of the bigger Mexican operations, and she’s pissed the fuck off. She doesn’t recognize me, but I know her. She once tried to hire me to take out a rival, but . . . I don’t do mafia or cartel shit. I did take an interest, though, because she had her own brother taken out for trying to do this exact thing. They got too big outside their territories, and made some hustle on girls.”
“How the actual fuck haven’t I heard about this?” I shake my head and lean on the table. “Your doing?”
The man smiles. “Figured having one of them onside might be good. This is a one-time deal, and everyone who’s smart wants in on it.”
“Show strength and the ability to work with others?” I look up an address on my phone as Nicolo goes to another page Karlee got us. “Smart.”
“That’s me.” Wilder taps his head. “Smart.”
“Hey, you know someone called Genesis?” I ask. I don’t expect an answer. I don’t really get one. At least not the one I want.
Everything about him goes completely unreadable. “Not relevant here.”
He’s probably right. “Nicolo, go back to the Smith head’s address.”
“What is it?”
“Does that look like one of the room numbers at the college?”
“Fucking hell.” He nods. “They’re based there.”
“I don’t think so. But this college does code all their addresses the same way.” I show him a dorm example. Someone’s having a party tonight, and they posted the door number in a photo. I then pull up Karlee’s class schedule and the room numbers. Finally, Brandon’s address for his little apartment. “All college owned.”
