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Chapter Eighteen
- Gabriel -
Iran the towel throughmy hair one last time before I answered the phone. Andre had called twice in the last hour, and I had ignored both calls. I wanted the time alone - just for a few minutes. I wanted to feel like the average guy who’d just showered after making love with the girl of his dreams, not the asshole who planned on using her.
“Somebody better be dead,” I growled, a bit of that asshole still hanging around.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Well, that’s why I called.”
I froze. My heart slammed to a halt in my chest. I had to pick the wrong goddamn time to try to feel human again.
“Who?”
Was it wrong that I breathed easier when he said, “The droid. Got bailed out this afternoon. Didn’t even make it home.”
I knew the man would be on someone’s list, but I didn’t think anyone was that desperate. “Where?”
“Two blocks away from the cop shop. He was on foot.”
“A drive by?” What the hell? There hadn’t been a drive by near a police station since the eighties. Someone hadn’t gotten the memo - we didn’t do that kind of shit anymore.
“Yeah. One shot. A good one, though. Through one cheek and out the other.”
I cringed at his description. “Any idea who?” I’d given my order - I knew it wasn’t one of my enforcers.
“No, but if I had to bet, I’d say St. Valentine.”
I wrapped the towel around my waist and padded into the living area to the half full bottle of champagne and started to pour a glass. “Why?”
Sebastian St. Valentine was a dangerous man, but he wasn’t known for leaving a trail of dead bodies around New York City. He had more discretion than that. But I valued Andre’s opinion almost as much as my own. Still, I needed him to explain his logic to me. It didn’t jibe with what I knew of St. Valentine.
“To start with, you wanted the same end game not twenty-four hours ago. St. Valentine stands to lose as much as you do if the droid talks. He’s one of Stefan’s men. There’s no telling what other games he plays.”
We were talking in code, though we didn’t really need to be. I was certain no one was spying on us. I spent a small fortune on burner phones...and bribes.
Still, it was a good habit to keep, but I didn’t support Andre’s suspicions - not yet.
“Keep an eye on it. I’m sure he had other clients, and not many of them would want to piss me off. I’ll see if I can find anything.”
“You have a different theory?”
“Not yet, but I’m keeping my options open. In the meantime, I have a job for you.”
He snickered. “Another one?”
“Assign it to whoever you want, but I want a report by Tuesday. St. Valentine has a place in the Adirondacks.”
“He does? That’s news to us.”
“Exactly. Later, I’ll ask why the hell we don’t already know that, but for now, find it. I want to know everything about it - from the square footage to the color of his bathroom tile.”
“Yes, sir.”
He lingered on the phone when usually that would have been the signal to end the conversation.
I drained the last of the champagne from the glass. “Is there something else?”
“Just wondering how things are going.”
