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“Conner, it has been such a treat to join you for lunch but I’m afraid we are urgently needed back at the office.”
“We are?” Alta says.
Matilda ignores her. “Sometimes being a leader means being the one to put out the fires. Oh, but we have a running tab here so you ought to stay and order dessert if you’d like. We’ll talk soon about your start date and in the meantime I’ll get your new office all set up.”
I doubt it would do much good to tell her that I won’t be working for her. I shove the last of my chips in my mouth. “Bye.”
Alta mutters something under her breath, chugs the last inch of her cocktail, and sullenly trails after Matilda.
My double portion from the kids’ menu didn’t quite hit the spot so I order something called a torte and check my phone. There’s nothing new from Haven but Gage left an abrupt text, which is really the only kind of text that ever comes from Gage.
Call me.
That’s not exactly a cry of alarm, yet my gut tenses as I press the call button.
Gage answers on the first ring. “Where are you at?”
“I was hanging out with your mother. Now I’m waiting for a torte. Why, what are you doing?”
“Waiting for your call while flipping through the baby name book my wife dropped in my lap.”
“I recommend Conner. Great name.”
He grunts. There’s a pattern of tapping on the other end, likely Gage’s OCD urges. He has something to tell me. Gage doesn’t get dramatic over nothing.
An aproned server delivers a plate with a multi-layered slice of cake that would look pretty good if I wasn’t hanging on Gage’s next words. I thank the girl by nodding.
“You know that I’ve been keeping watch on the east side,” Gage says and the tension in my stomach intensifies. If he’s leading with news of the east side, then this call has something to do with Haven’s family.
“I thought those cousins of hers have been maintaining a low profile. Did something change?”
“No. I kind of wish it had. The calm before the storm isn’t a good place to linger.”
“Haven says they’ve been keeping their distance. Could be that they’re getting nervous. The old man is going to get out eventually and he’s bound to do something about their bad behavior. This morning Haven heard from the lawyer that she’s been cleared to visit him tomorrow.”
Can’t say I was too excited to hear that my lady will be taking a field trip to prison but I can’t very well order her not to go. Like it or not, Aric Marchenko is her father.
More tapping from the other end of the connection. “Jared and Talon keep stacking up muscle and steel. Instinct tells me they’re planning something.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t know. Might not even affect Haven as I’m not sure they see her as much of a threat. After all, Marchenko didn’t put her in charge before he reported to lockup. She’s tolerated in his inner circle but doesn’t get promoted. Still, she’d be loyal to her father. And there’s no doubt Talon’s got his eye on what little territory is technically under her control. That’s why he and his brother are trying to lure away the people she trusts.”
My right fist closes. “What people?”
“They didn’t have any luck with that gruff bruiser, Andrei. He’s been pretty loud about telling them to fuck off. But I got curious about that Irish chick after she was spotted on Essex Street.”
“Fiona? Doesn’t seem likely she’d turn on Haven.”
There’s a long pause. “What does Haven know about Fiona’s history?”
“Not much. I asked about Fiona once and was told she was born in Ireland and worked the Vegas scene for a while. Haven doesn’t know any more than that. She says people are entitled to some secrets if they need to be.”
Gage snorts. “Secrets are one thing. An entirely fabricated identity is another.”
“Huh?”
“Fiona Carney is indeed the name of a woman who was born in Ireland and was living in Vegas. But she’s dead. The woman who Haven thinks is her best friend has had so many aliases they were tough to unravel. She has stuck with the Fiona Carney character since arriving in Em City three years ago. But her real name is Jessica Roswell. And she was born in San Bernardino, not Dublin.”
