“Tony?” His eyes narrow. “What about him?”
“You had business with him.”
He steps toward me. “What do you know about it?”
I clear my throat. “I know you wanted to expand things, make a move into Chicago, and you needed him.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I was…Tony told me.” He’d had big plans to start his own business. While I was still delusional about how deep in with his brothers he actually was, I believed he was looking to start up a chain of dance clubs. Now I know what he was really doing.
Make another distribution line for his brother’s pleasure houses.
“I was with him before he died. He mentioned the business arrangement he was trying to make with you.”
“How does my deal with him involve you?”
“He also mentioned the girls.” I keep my body still. “I’d like to have them back.”
Janis’ expression goes blank, like it takes him a second to realize what I’ve said. Then he bursts out laughing.
“You want them back?”
“I do.” I dig into my coat pocket and find the envelope Scarman left behind and pull it out. “I can give you a hundred thousand dollars for them. But I want them back, unharmed.”
“Unharmed?” He doubles over. Such dramatics.
“Yes. If you do that, I can help you move into Chicago. The DeAngelos can’t help you now, but there’s another family that can.”
“Oh?” He sobers up. “And who’s that?”
“The Volkovs. But the girls, you have to cut that out. They won’t tolerate that shit.”
He takes a step toward me. “How do you know all these powerful men?”
I try to retreat, but his guard is behind me. I’m sandwiched.
“I told you I was with Tony.”
“Right. But he’s dead now. And you speak of the Volkovs, say you can get me business with them. They are powerful in Chicago. How can you know both of them so well? Who are you?”
And there’s the question I’d hoped to avoid. I’d been betting that he’d be too interested in getting to move on his business deal to realize there was a connection.
“Do you want the meeting or not?” I thrust my chin up. “But the girls have to be released.”
He moves his gaze to the fat envelope in my right hand.
“Your name.” He orders.
“I already told you my name.”
“Your full name. And how you know the DeAngelos and the Volkovs. They hate each other.”
True story. He’s not as stupid as I hoped he was.
When I don’t answer, he flicks his chin toward the security guard who grabs me and wrenches my phone from my pocket. I try to grab it from him, but he draws his gun and points it at me while he hands over the phone to Janis.
Janis peels back the wallet pocket attached to the back of my case and reads the ID inside. Obviously, it was stupid of me to bring it inside. I can hear Artem’s lecture now. I’m too impulsive. I need to think every angle through before I do anything.
