Alex rolls his eyes. “Fucking Christ, Carmine, work with me here a little. It’s always something with you. Anyway, let’s fucking get down to it, because I don’t have all night. I have to head home at a decent time tonight before the Mrs. starts chewing my ass.”
“I thought you liked that,” I tease.
“Fuck you, man.” Alex laughs.
Wanda brings over our next round of whiskeys before a rowdy group a few tables over, closer to the bar, steals her attention.
“Anyway, like I was saying,” Alex grabs his glass before continuing. “We got this chick who was recently promoted to detective. She occasionally will work with the drug unit, and I swear, man, she has a sixth fucking sense for that shit,” he warns.
I grab my glass of whiskey from the table and give it a swirl before bringing it to my lips. “Oh, is that so?”
“I’m telling you, she is fucking good, which means she is going to be a problem. Not to mention, she started reading over some open case files, and I can tell her wheels are turning,” Alex says before he proceeds to slurp down almost his entire whiskey in one pronounced gulp.
“Slow down there, buddy. You’re drinking like you’re scared,” I say as he wipes the whiskey that dripped down his lips.
“I’m serious, she’s going to make things even more difficult for me to cover for you.”
Alex continues talking, though my ears stop working momentarily. All my brain is focusing on is the word “she.” Being in the business of evading law enforcement as long as I have has taught me a few things. One being, while male cops think with their muscles, a female cop, well, they are usually a whole other breed. Smart, quick on their feet, and on a mission to prove any asshole who may underestimate their power wrong. Alex is right, she is going to be trouble.
I snap out of my daze and try to jump back into the conversation.
“Not to mention, he is putting her on surveillance tomorrow night at the Halloween Gala.”
This is going to be a problem, because a large part of the success of gala night has always rested on Alex convincing the chief to let him work security that night. Aside from the drug force gig, Alex has always worked per diem security gigs. I have had him on retainer for Marked Inc. function nights, and since the chief, for some reason or another, has taken a liking to my father, I have always been able to have Alex guarding the front, while I have the products run through the back.
But now, if this detective, whoever she is, suspects that we are, in fact, running drugs at the gala and she is out to surveil … well then, that puts a damper on things. Big fucking time.
“Did you remind the chief that, since you work security for me on gala night, that will be unnecessary?”
“I tried, Carmine, but she is on her game. She heard me talking to the chief, inserted herself in the conversation and got him to stick to the original plan they discussed.”
“Fuck,” I grunt, taking the last drag of my cigarette.
“Yea, fuck, is right,” he echoes. “Oh, there is one more thing,” Alex says with a genuine look of concern on his face.
“Yes?” I ask hesitantly.
“She also is looking into the Santiago file.”
Ah, Santiago. One of our biggest disappointments at the company. My father insisted he wouldn’t be a flight risk, but it’s near impossible having a recovering addict sell drugs. Not to mention, Santiago failed to follow protocol after Christian performed the necessary alterations.
“I was thorough with my disposal. I followed the strict protocol that I instated myself. There should be nothing left to dissect,” I say confidently as my blood begins to boil. Santiago was a loose cannon, which is why I went around my father and finished him myself.
“Well, it looks like Christian may have forgotten to complete the job on the prints. This chick is fucking smart, Car, it’s only a matter of time before she starts putting the pieces of the puzzle together.”
Fuck.
I try to conceal the worry that is beginning to attack my mind. Swirling my glass once more, I try to buy myself time to figure out how to handle this.
“She sounds like she knows what she is doing. Too bad she is so driven to take down the wicked. Otherwise, I would offer a vulture such as herself a job,” I joke, trying to conceal the doubt that is momentarily hitting me.
“She a fucking fox. Smart and determined to make a name for herself in the department. Busting the city’s biggest drug lord would be the highlight of her career. Shit anyone’s, really.” Alex has a point, except he left out a keyword.
“Rumored,” I reply.
“Huh?” Alex slurs, sounding like the double whiskeys are starting to work their magic.
“I think you meant to say, the city’s biggestrumoreddrug lord. There is a difference. No one has been able to prove shit. From the outside, I am just a wealthy businessman running a public relations firm by day and this gothic oasis by night,” I remind him as I lift my hands, taking in the smog-filled air of The Sandy Claws.
