Page 21 of Disavowed

Holy shit. “They are.” And just like that, he’d accepted a hit.

“We’ll talk again after your test is completed.” The call ended, and Schneider hooked his phone back onto his belt.

“Here’s your target.” Smith pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his back pants pocket but didn’t hand it to Dom. “He’s nobody. Goes every afternoon like clockwork to a bodega for rolling papers. A junkie with no family and no ties to anyone. He won’t be missed. My cell number is on the bottom. It’s a burner, so don’t bother trying to track it. You call me the day before the hit. You tell me where and when. I’ll be in a Magellan Foods van. You wait until you see that van. Don’t even think of taking this guy out without me present to witness the kill. Got it?”

“I got it.” Dom grabbed the paper from Schneider’s hand and unfolded it. Jimmy Gonzalez. Twenty-five Christopher Street, Greenwich Village. A tourist hub, and ironically one of the most crime-ridden areas in Manhattan.

Smith stepped closer until he could feel the asshole’s hot breath on his face. “You fuck us on this, and I’ll be the one to take you out.”

He shoved Smith backward, and the guy nearly landed on his ass. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem,” he said, doubling his fists and bristling with rage, “is that I don’t trust you. Schneider might, but I don’t. Until six months ago, you were the NYPD’s golden boy, and now I’m supposed to believe you suddenly went bad?”

“Enough.” Schneider stepped between them. “If he passes the test, he’s good to go, and you’ll have to live with that. It’s the boss’s call, and we’re shorthanded for the next gig.”

Fuck. He’d been laying the groundwork for his slow but steady demise into bad-cop land, and Smith was still suspicious his cover wasn’t real. “Look,” he said, holding out his hand, “everyone makes mistakes, and mine was spending too much money. Life got stressful, I started drinking, and now I got a bum knee.” He tapped the side of his leg, the one he’d been limping on. “I can’t go to the doc for painkillers or the department will bench me. So now I need money for pills. Shit happens. End of story.”

“I already know your entire story.” Smith eyed Dom like he wanted to kill him.

“Whatever. I’m outta here. Thanks, Jack.” Dom held out his hand, and the two men shook.

“Remember,” Jack said, still gripping his hand, “I vouched for you. If you’re bullshitting, it’s my ass on the line, too.”

He nodded once, then locked eyes with Smith. Not waiting for the fucker’s permission, he reached for his Glock on the desk and reholstered. He headed for the elevator, and with every step felt Smith’s eyes boring into his back like twin laser sights. Sure enough, when he opened the door and turned around to drag the safety fence closed, Smith was watching him.

As the elevator descended, Dom’s heart pounded, and he let out a deep breath. Step two complete. He’d interviewed with the boss of the Pyramid and lived to tell about it.

For now.

He exited the building and walked down the sidewalk and past the van. He and Gray had plans to meet up later to discuss strategy. Specifically, how to murder a junkie and not get thrown in jail for life.

Chapter Six

Daisy accepted the glass of Cabernet Alex handed her.

“Mmm,” she murmured, taking a sip. “An evening meeting over cocktails and dinner was an excellent idea.”

“Always.” Alex stopped stirring the pot of stew she’d been cooking, then picked up her wineglass and joined Daisy at the granite island to clink glasses.

Daisy inhaled the rich, hearty stew’s aroma and her stomach growled loudly. “That was loud enough for Nicky to hear from the living room.”

They both craned their necks to see Nicky sitting on the floor in front of an open textbook and a spiral notebook on the coffee table, looking totally adorable with his little nose scrunched up.

Alex laughed. “We’ll eat as soon as Gray gets home. He usually helps Nicky with his homework while I cook dinner, but tonight he’s running late.”

“What’s he working on?” Since Gray and Dom were partners, the mention of Gray’s caseload automatically had her mind unwillingly conjuring images of Dom.

Stop it. Don’t go there.

“I have no idea.” Alex went back to stirring the stew pot. “He’s been especially tight-lipped about his job the last few weeks, and he’s been working late a lot. You should have seen him when he asked if it would be okay to postpone our honeymoon for a month or so. I think he was worried I’d throw a fit and divorce him on the spot, when in reality it suited my calendar, too. With my interior design business just starting to take off, its better we postpone our trip anyway.”

Daisy pulled her floral drawings from the cardboard tube she’d brought with her and spread the plans on the counter. “Didn’t you promise Nicky a puppy when you got back from your honeymoon?”

“I did,” she said with obvious reluctance. “He and Gray both finally wore me down. Cassie’s dog, Raven, is about to be mated to another Belgian sheepdog. I’ve seen pictures of what the puppies look like, and even I have to admit they’re the cutest little things. They look like a cross between a black bear cub and a wolf pup.”

“Well I, for one, intend to benefit from this postponement. It gives me time to run my final designs for the Piazza by you.” She strategically slid her wineglass to the corner of the schematic to keep it from rolling closed. “The reopening is this Sunday, and Andrew is such a stickler for details, I want to make sure everything is perfect.”

“Speaking of Andrew,” Alex said, grinning slyly, “that man is seriously into you. Everyone could see that at the wedding. Especially Dom.”