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“I’m listening.”
“I heard the man I worked for, Caracortada, complaining about some Canadian mob guys trying to work their way into the drug business in the city. They had meth and X and needed distribution. Sounded like Caracortada wanted to do something violent to scare them off. He told me to tell him if they approached me.”
I nodded. “That’s good to know. I’ll keep my eyes open at work.”
“That’s not all. Since I’ve been here, I heard about how tough the Canadian mob can be and that they are expanding down into the United States. They mean business and have a lot of cash.”
I thought about the two bodies buried behind Dell Streeter’s barn. This could get ugly.
Brian continued. “There are a couple of French Canadians here who are having a beef with Mexican cartel members over it. They think there’s going to be some kind of gang war. I just want you to be prepared.”
I looked at my son. The little boy who lost his way. I knew how hard it was for him to tell me this kind of stuff. I knew no one could ever find out.
“Thanks, Brian. I’ll be careful.”
I placed my hand on the glass, and he put his hand against the other side.
I’d worry about drug wars when the time came. There was always enough to keep cops busy. No matter what the state of the economy or world politics or religion, there would always be murders. If they happened in Manhattan, I’d be ready.
For now, I was content to spend a few more minutes with my son.
This time it’s Alex Cross on trial…
For an excerpt, turn the page.
I looked in my bedroom mirror and tried to tie the perfect necktie knot.
It was such a simple thing, a ritual I performed every day before work, and yet I couldn’t get it right.
“Here, Alex, let me help,” Bree said, sliding in beside me.
I let the tie hang and said, “Nerves.”
“Understandable,” Bree said, coming around in front of me and adjusting the tie.
I have a good six inches on my wife, and I gazed down in wonder at how easily she tied the knot.
“Men can’t do that,” I said. “We have to stand behind a guy to do it.”
“Just a difference in perspective,” Bree said, snugging it up against my Adam’s apple and then tugging down the starched collar. She hesitated, looked up at me with wide, fearful eyes, and said, “You’re ready now.”
I felt q
ueasy and said, “You think?”
“I believe in you,” Bree said, getting up on her tiptoes and tilting her head back. “We all believe in you.”
I kissed her then and hugged her tight.
“Love you,” I said.
“Forever and ever,” Bree said.
When we separated, she had shiny eyes.
“Game face now,” I said, touching her chin. “Remember what Marley and Naomi told us.”
She got out a Kleenex and dabbed at her tears while I put on my jacket.
