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“Take it easy. Tell me, how much did the little bastard steal?”
“All of it,” said Roman.
Ross blanched. The McCall gold wasn’t just a fortune of cash stowed away from the Feds, a safety net in case Roman went to jail and they dissolved the family fortune. It had sentimental value. The old McCall bullion was the center of family legend. It was an artifact, something Roman, the superstitious brother in the bunch, practically worshipped.
“Aw, doggies. ” Ross rubbed between his eyes. “We’ll find the bastard, alright? Remember how I found Katie?”
“I need that money back, Ross.”
“Do you? If you need to borrow some—”
“Like hell!” Roman choked. “I’d sooner bust in my windows, and swallow the glass! You’re my baby brother, and that’s your money. For you and your future wife, whenever you decide to stop fucking around and get married.”
For some reason this comment rubbed Ross the wrong way. “What the hell do you mean by that?” He said with unnecessary aggression.
“What? Look, Ross, this ain’t the time. Can you help me or not?”
“Sure. Send my assistant the details and I’ll get on it.”
Apparently that was not good enough for Roman. “He could be in Mexico by the time you get back here!” Roman roared.
Ross reached the end of his rope. “He’s probably already in Mexico. I reckon the little piss-ant snatched the money from right under your nose, did he? Can’t say I blame him. You acted like a goddamned mark!”
“Excuse me?”
“Taking that jailbird from off the street— after he’d just done seven years for nearly killing someone. What did you think would happen?”
“If you and the boys had just agreed to work with me, I would never have done that,” said Roman, voicing an old grievance.
“You’re damn lucky I didn’t dirty my boots,” Ross pointed out. He was tired of Roman’s bitching. “This is like the fifth time I’m bailing you out of some shit. Or is it the sixth? You need my stamp on everything just to make it legit and I always oblige, don’t I?”
“Go on. Ride that high horse into the sunset,” Roman grumbled. But then he admitted, “You’re right. You’re more of a help to me than Rebel and Rain.”
“Accept it, Roman. You can’t do it the way Pa did. It’s time to change businesses and go clean.”
“What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?”
I’m on vacation. First vacation in six years, and here come the McCalls with the same old bullshit.“Roman, remember when we talked about boundaries?”
“Kiss my ass with that therapy shit. Come homenow, or I’m gonna take a wrecker to that little statue of yours.”
“It’s aJean-Christophe, you termite-headed hillbilly—”
“It’s disgusting. It looks like a frog and a pedophile making love.”
“Touch it and you’re dead! It’s a work of art worth more than your bank account.”
“Shit,” said Roman, sobering. “You ain’t wrong.”
Damn. Just how much did Roman have riding on that missing gold? Ross cleared his throat. “Look, big bro, you just need to ask—”
“Like hell. Don’t offer again, or I’ll break your teeth. Goodbye, Ross. See youreal soon.”
“Yeah. Okay. Love you. Go to hell.”
Click.
Ross wassurprised when Manny asked him to hang out again. They met for sake and dumplings. Knowing that they hadn’t parted on great terms, Ross was wary. But they were still brothers, still old friends, and former Brothers.
