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“We’re not done,” I growled. “When I see you again, you’d better be ready to talk. Your life depends on it.”
I didn’t wait for a response before shutting the door and locking it behind me.
Once I was alone again, I shook my head in frustration as I ran my hand through my hair.
She was lying, no doubt about it. Butwhywas the question. Was she protecting someone? Kiki might not have been in our organization, but she was surely smart enough to understand the fate of anyone who she might’ve told.
Either way, I needed to do some research. I needed to find out Kiki’s real name, where she lived, the names of her friends and roommate and boyfriend and anyone else close to her.
I was right about that shallow grave. Eddie wouldn’t hesitate a moment if he thought there was even the slightest chance that Kiki could interfere with his plans. Her life was literally in my hands.
It was time to get to work.
Chapter 4
Claire
Ididn’t like being back in the old hood, but if it meant finding Kat, I was willing to do anything.
Kat and I both hailed from Southie. More specifically, the very southern part of the area that bordered Mattapan—a run-down area nicknamed “Murderpan” for the sorts of reasons one could only guess.
It was strange to be back, even though I tried to make it a point to return whenever I could to see Mom and Dad. Everything felt different though knowing that I was there trying to find a missing friend cast the neighborhood in an eerie pallor, as if the soft lens of nostalgia had been pulled away and I was seeing the place for what it really was.
The day was gray and overcast, the air chilly as I walked down Evans Street. Apartment complexes with dingy aluminum siding were to my left and right, men and women still dressed in pajamas hanging out on the stoops smoking cigarettes and watching me with skeptical eyes. I knew that there was a good chance their cups of morning coffee likely contained healthy splashes of whiskey.
Part of me wished I was still with Mom and Dad, that I’d chosen to stay a little longer. The drop-in had been nice; the three of us sharing Dunkin’ coffee and donuts as they asked me about my life and work.
All the same, I hated to see them in the state they were in. Dad was still hurting from the back injury that’d put him out of his job as a foreman and landed him on disability. While he still had the same toughness that I’d always admired ever since I was a kid, his body wasn’t taking kindly to inactivity. He appeared small and frail. Mom was a live wire as always, still working at the beauty salon down the street.
As I looked around, I thought about the vow I had made to myself—to earn enough money to get Mom and Dad out of there, to put them up in some swanky condo near me where they didn’t have to look out of their front windows and see drug deals happening on the sidewalk and would no longer be awakened by thecrack-crack-crackof distant gunfire. Someday.
For now, I had another mission. Kat was missing, and for lack of better options, I was on the hunt for any kind of clue to her whereabouts. From what I knew about the Irish mob, they owned a few businesses in the area. It wasn’t much, but it was a place to start.
Up ahead, I laid eyes on one of the outdoor smokers. They looked familiar.
“Holy shit!” the woman said as she caught my attention. “Is that little Claire Murphy?”
The woman was Jane Sullivan, one of the bartenders at Tipsy McStagger’s, the pub where Dad and his buddies used to tie one off after a day at work.
“Ms. Sullivan!” I called out.
“Get your skinny butt over here and give me a hug, kid!”
She stood up from where she was seated on her porch and I opened the gate to the chain link fence that surrounded her small home. The familiar scent of her Pall Malls wrapped around me like a cloudy blanket, and I couldn’t help but smile as I approached.
Jane was dressed in flannel pajama pants and fuzzy slippers, a light blue robe wrapped around her that was dotted with small burns from the cigarettes she’d dropped on it over the years. She was skinny and tall, with frizzy, brown hair and a face that was still pretty despite how gaunt she’d grown from her whiskey and cigarette diet over the years.
I hopped up onto the porch, wrapping my arms around her little body.
“Man, oh man!” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and giving me a look up and down. “I can’t believe it’s you!” Jane cocked her head to the side, glancing around me. “And you know what, I don’t think I can call you skinny anymore with a butt like that!”
I laughed. “Thanks. I think.”
“Man, I remember when your dad used to bring you around Tipsy’s when you were barely this tall.” She held up her hand, palm-down, at her waist. “Glad to see the years were kind to you.”
“And you, too,” I said.
“Ah.” She waved her hand through the air, a slight unsteadiness to the motion that made me certain she’d already had a few. “I’m starting to look like an old lady. Drunks down at the pub don’t even try to grab my ass hardly any more these days.” She followed this up with a raspy laugh before taking a drag on her cigarette. “Anyway, sit down! Let me grab you some coffee! I want to know what’s new in your world.”
