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In the police’s defense, the Riot aren’t wearing their cuts, but I’m disappointed. The Riot watching the store are big names and we know them by face and road name in order to stay safe. I’d think the police would have done their homework, especially with Violet’s life on the line.
My cell buzzes and I expect it to be another text from either Oz or Razor asking if I’ve heard anything. The two of them are sitting at an outside table at a restaurant a few doors down from the fish store.
It’s from Oz and it’s a pic of Razor. I grunt-laugh because the kid is wearing a baseball cap, a polo shirt with a collar and Dockers. He’s playing Halloween dress-up as a frat-boy preppie to throw off the Riot. Gotta admit, Razor looks like a stranger to me—except for the eyes.
Razor texts: Oz is wearing the same fucking thing. I’m saving my pics of him for blackmail later. I’m thinking he’s buying beers for the next six months.
Me: Sounds good to me. Anything on Vi?
Razor: Nothing
Fuck me.
Another buzz.
Oz: I think we got problems.
I sit up straighter and the detective looks up from his own cell and watches me like a hawk on a mouse.
Me: What?
Oz: Few minutes before Violet showed, we noticed a blond guy pull up and plant himself at the coffee shop. Problem is—he watches the world more than he’s reading his magazine and he’s watching intently.
Me: Making Violet’s tail is the problem?
Oz: No. The fact that the Riot are noticing him is the problem. They make him and Violet has major problems.
Razor: Riot on the move. Tell him to get the fuck out of there.
“Tell your guy at the coffee shop to get out of there now. The Riot think there’s something wrong with him.”
Detective doesn’t even blink as he talks into the radio. “Kurt, you need to move. You are on the verge of being compromised.”
Confirmation back and Razor texts me: Your guy is moving. Acting like he got a phone call and he’s all pissed off his Tinder date forgot their meeting at the coffee shop. Riot backing off. Smooth move by the police, but now Violet’s down a gun on her side.
If I was a weaker man, I’d be intimidated by the glare the detective’s giving me. Good thing I’m a McKinley, because I see that type of look daily.
Other people radio in that they now spot the new-to-them Riot players and confirm the Riot were questioning the guy at Starbucks.
“Tell me how you knew that,” Barlow demands.
“Oz and Razor are watching at the restaurant down the street. How about you tell me how you’re going to keep Violet safe now that we’re down a man.”
“Your friends being there are putting Violet in danger.”
“My friends just saved Violet and your cop. I’m going to ask one more time, how are you going to protect Violet now that you’ve lost a pair of eyes?”
Oz: I don’t like this. She’s been in there too long and some of the Riot are bugging out. Not all, but some. Do they have eyes on the back of this place?
That humming that saturated my brain after the kidnapping returns and it’s hard as hell to not throw my fist into the wall to try to control it. Me: Police have it under control.
“You sure you know what you’re doing? You have a guy that was almost made and there are Riot leaving the area.”
The detective’s on the radio asking for updates, telling people to watch, telling people to move around. I stand and kick the recycling box into the hallway. Papers fly everywhere. These people have no idea what they’re doing.
Razor: What if they don’t have it under control? I agree, she’s been in there too long. Maybe we pull rank. Maybe we should end this bullshit now.
“What are they seeing?” the detective snaps. “Tell me who exactly is watching my men.”
