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Fuck his threats. He could drag me here and try to get me to do some sort of favor for him, but he was mistaken if he thought I was going to lick his damn boots, too.
Luco finally gave a dismissive sniff, rubbing his forefinger across his big, hooked nose. “Here’s what I need you to do. See, I’ve come into some lucrative business recently,” Luco lowered his voice and glanced around the room once more before continuing. “To the tune of ten or twenty million dollars. But it would make my life a hell of a lot easier if that money appeared to be the result of some good investments. Lucky for me, my son knows a guy who is quite the financial mind, isn’t it?”
“You want me to commit fraud,” I said simply.
“Fraud is a strong word. I just want you to take me on as a client. And I’d make sure you got a cut of the money if you do a nice job. Let’s say you make this happen in the next week. Of course you’d probably need to forge some back entries and make it look like we’ve been working together a lot longer, but I’m sure a smart guy like you can figure it out.”
I clenched my jaw. What he was asking could land me in prison for the rest of my life. More importantly, I found myself strongly against the idea of helping this bag of shit get anything he wanted. His son was blackmailing me. He was now waddling into my life and threatening to burn it down if I didn’t play by his rules.
“Well?” Luco asked.
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
He leaned forward until the lamp hanging over the table cast sharp downward shadows across his face, and I was reminded of exactly who this man was and what my people informed me he’d done. “Let me make your thought process easier, Christian. I already brought you in the moment we had this conversation. Understand me? So you either get in the mud with me so I know I can trust you, or you can plan on really being in the mud. About six feet of it.”
I lifted my hands. “I understand the situation perfectly.”
“Good!” Luco sat back with a glance at his fancy watch. “I’ve got a thing I need to take care of. But it was nice to meet you, Christian. I’ll have my boy pass on the details you’ll need to get my name in your accounts. Do a good job, and this will be the last time we meet. For your sake, you should hope that’s how this plays out.” He walked past me with one last clap on the shoulder.
I didn’t turn or leave the table until I heard the cheery little jingle of bells over the door. Once he was gone. I slammed a fist on the table, jaw clenched until it hurt. “Fuck!” I hissed.
“Everything okay, Sir?” a young girl with an apron asked.
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “Just can’t decide on everything or blueberry for my bagel.”
“Oh,” she said, laughing in relief. “Definitely go with the everything. Why settle for some when you can have it all, right?”
For some reason, her words resonated with me. I thought about the conversation I’d just had. Then I thought about my contact with the F.B.I. When Lance got himself in legal trouble, I’d gotten to know a man named Perry better than I would’ve liked. “Friends” would be a strong word, but I had his number and knew him well enough to think I could maybe trust him with something like this.
I pulled out my phone and made a call, fully aware that I could be signing my own death warrant.
Perry picked up after a few rings. “Christian,” he said. “I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you until it was closer to your brother’s next appeal.”
“This isn’t about Lance.” I took a page from Luco’s book and looked around me, making sure nobody was paying me any attention. “It’s about–”
“Wait,” Perry said quickly, cutting me off. “You’re in Manhattan, right?”
“How’d you know that?”
“Do you know a place called Steaming Pete’s?”
“It’s a few blocks from here. Yeah.”
“Meet me there. It’s safer to talk in person.”
I wanted to get back to the apartment and to the girls. I didn’t want them to wake up and worry, but chances were, they were both still sleeping. “Alright. Fine.”
I left the bakery without the bagels and felt a prickle of paranoia on the back of my neck. I’d need to swing by the shop again on my way home after talking to Perry. Calling Perry already set me down a path. Luco might even know. How the hell was I supposed to know if I was being watched?
I joined the rush of the crowd and headed for Steaming Pete’s. I even took a few random turns, hoping to see if anyone followed me down alleyways or into various shops along my path. Once I was relatively certain I wasn’t being watched, I pushed the door to the cafe open.
