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He backs down, but only a little. “Why the hell would I have suggested a bank heist?” he asks. “Bricker and me, we’ve always run ops for the Maestra, but not specialized, not like banks. Not like you,” he adds grudgingly. “Meant we had to do a lot of training. We had to pull together a whole team. Pony for a wheelman, Honeybee for the shaft…” He pulls a face. “Listen, I don’t like thinking that you might go after them just because of something I said—”
“I won’t. I’m just following a hunch. I’m not planning on making any accusations.”
He doesn’t like it much, but he lets it go. “WhereisBricker, anyway? You and he have been joined at the hip lately.”
I hesitate, but then I admit, “We had a disagreement. We both needed some time to cool off before talking it out. But Idoplan on talking it out.”
If he studied me hard before, I feel like he’s dissecting me with his mind right now. “Disagreement,” he says at last. “Okay. Does that mean you won’t be at dinner tomorrow night?”
I shake my head with a pained smile. “Didn’t even know there was one. Whole crew going?”
“No. Bricker asked me over. Said he wanted to talk.”
“Good. You make sure you go, eh? I’m worried about Bricker. He won’t let me near him right now, but I know I can trust you to watch his back.”
“Yeah. Well, you make sure to watch your own, Pedretti,” he tells me as I rise and head for the door. He strolls after me. “I bet there’s someone out there who’d be more than happy to put a knife in it.” He gives me a hard smile and a goodbye salute.
“Thanks for the advice,” I mutter as the door slams shut behind me. And then I look down to make sure I’m carrying the TV remote by the wrong end, so that Van’s fingerprints will be preserved.
I don’t know what’s going on at Redwood, or when Jack will be available, but Freddy’s out and about. If I give the remote to him, it’ll end up in Jack’s hands eventually.
Van was the last of them. During our hospital visits, I managed to snatch good samples from Honeybee, Nico and Giddy. Jack has the full set now.
I just hope his expert contacts will be able to get prints off that damn burner phone.
* * *
Alone in my Glendale apartment again, I go over my notes and the information I’ve gathered so far. The pages are littered with names, dates, observations—all pieces of a puzzle I’m struggling to put together, but my thoughts race faster than I can catch them.
I think back to the beginning. The crew’s distrust was clear at first—barely concealed beneath a thin veneer of civility. And who could blame them? I was an outsider, a potential threat to their delicate balance of loyalty and secrets.
But now, with Van’s reluctant cooperation, I have at least one ally in this dangerous game. For a moment I wonder how his dinner with Bricker is going. I hope they can talk it out, find a way to get that friendship back on track.
As for Bricker and me…
I need to find a way to apologize. One way to do that is to find this mole. Show him I’m still dedicated to doing what’s best for him. That I always will be from now on, whichever Boss gives me orders.
I look back over my notes and see a mess of scribbles, no clear pattern emerging yet. I have some ideas, but they’re murky. Shadowed. Still, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that when you’re stumbling around in the dark, you only have two options. One is to do nothing. The other is to keep stumbling. And only one of those options is ever going to get you anywhere.
I stretch, hearing both my back and neck crack, and groan.
And then I put my head back down, eyes on my notes, and keep on stumbling.
CHAPTER40
BRICKER
The smellof burnt tomato sauce hits me as I pull the scorched pan off the stove. Cooking anything except bacon isn’t really my forte. I scrape the mess into the trash and start over, opening a fresh jar of sauce. Thank God I got three from the store—just in case I fuck this one up, too.
Gotta make this right for Van. Can’t mess up his favorite meal if I want to fix this thing between us. It took long enough for him to answer my texts, and then long enough to persuade him to come around.
Thishasto go right.
I try adding the noodles to the boiling water, and I end up spilling pasta across the counter. God, I need to get it together. I faced down the Castellani Don without blinking, but one old friend coming over has me this rattled?
The thought of the Castellanis means my mind shifts to Max immediately. I can’t believe I neglected my friendship with Van for that asshole. But fuck him. Tonight is about fixing things with Van, not dwelling on Max.
I still wonder whether Van will actually show up.
