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I lean down, holding the photo of Jessica Smith so the man can see better. “It’s simple. Have you seen this woman?”
“I don’t w-want any trouble,” the man stutters. “Not with the M-Marinos.”
“It might be a good idea to stop preying on innocent women, then, buddy,” Luca says in disgust, giving the man’s head another nudge. “I asked a friend about you. He said you like to hang around high schools, try to poach the graduates, get them hooked on shit so they’ll work in yourbusiness.”
Luca’s getting angry, I can tell. It’s the vein throbbing in his neck. He looks at me as if to ask if we should just end this lowlife here. I shake my head subtly.
“Have you seen her?” I growl. “Or him?” I show a photo of her dad.
His eyes snap open. He nods like a pathetic prick, happy to be able to give us something. “That’s Philip. Yeah, I know him. He was hanging around last night. Played a bit of poker.”
I grit my teeth in disgust. “With what money?”
“He owes me,” the man says, “but he took off.”
“Where?”
“Don’t know.”
“Did he say anything about where he might go?” I ask.
“He got real mad and mentioned a poker game that’d treat him better than we were. You heard of Satan’s Basin? That’s where he said he was heading.”
“That place is even more of a shithole than here,” Luca mutters. “Anything else?”
The man shakes his head frantically, desperately. He can probably sense how badly Luca wants to tear his head off. He’s almost drooling in fear. “N-no. I swear.”
“Okay. Good.” Luca takes out his pistol and pushes it against the man’s head. “Any last words?”
He starts properly whining now, trying to kick his legs, causing the chair to buck beneath him. “Puh-please.”
I give Luca a look. He gives me one back. “What?” he snaps.
“We can’t afford a murder charge,” I tell him. “We’ve got what we need.”
“This man is filth.”
“No argument there.”
“Puh-puh…”
“Shutup,” Luca snaps, pushing the gun firmer against his head, causing his head to tip forward so that his chin is almost touching his chest.
“I mean it,” I say.
“You’re lucky my brother’s here,” Luca says, walking around so he’s in front of the man. He kneels and pushes the gun against his throat. “If he weren’t, I’d have one hell of a time with you, buddy. Believe me. I’d turn you into goddamn soup.”
Luca places the barrel of the gun against the man’s knee and pulls the trigger. I turn away at the last moment, but there’s no escaping the noise. My ears start ringing right away. The man screams and throws himself backward, falling with the chair.
“If I see you in my city again,” Luca growls, standing over him, “I’m taking more than a kneecap next time.”
* * *
How was breakfast with Mom?I text.
It was okay,she replies immediately, telling me she was waiting near her phone.She’s a lovely woman. You were right. She thinks we’re using the singer thing as a cover story.
“We moving, bro?” Luca says from the passenger seat.
