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“You got a pen? Some paper?”
“Hold on.” She disappeared for a few seconds and returned with the motel stationery.
He printed his name and phone number on it before handing it back. “If you see Burt or hear about where he’s hiding, call or text me.”
“There more money in it?”
“Sure.”
“All right.” She eyed him up and down. “If you ever have a dry spell, come find me. I won’t charge.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiled and shoved his empty wallet back into his jeans. He shifted his attention toward the dumpster where the tweaker had been joined by a friend who was helping him sift through the garbage. Feeling grimy, Danny got into his truck, locked the doors, and drove the hell away as quickly as possible.
The phone began to chime with message alerts. He waited until a red light to check them. The first seven were automated texts from different casinos in Louisiana. Where the hell was Burt getting the money to play slots and blackjack? Did he have a stash of cash somewhere? That might be one way to track him down, but he’d have to dig to find it.
The next text in the inbox was more interesting. It was only two words: SIX DAYS. There were more from the same number, a countdown from ten. A deadline. But for what? Nothing good, that was for sure.
Curious, he pulled into the nearest parking lot and called the number. It rang twice before someone answered.
“Burt, you’re almost out of time.”
“Who is this?” Danny demanded.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“Someone else looking for Burt.”
“Danny Boy!” The man on the other end said patronizingly. “I wondered how long it would take for you to contact us.”
“I might have contacted you earlier if I knew who you were.”
“I’ll text you an address. Let’s meet.”
The call ended, and a few seconds later, a text message arrived. He recognized the street and knew exactly who he was about to meet. The Leung Brothers.
But he was on thin ice with Nikolai and going to an unsanctioned meet-up wasn’t going to help matters. If Ten was off-duty that meant the boss was taking a day at home with his family. He wouldn’t be answering his phone, and Kostya would be running interference.
Four text messages later, he had his permission to meet with the Leungs and a warning not to stray from his intended purpose. He kept that in mind as he drove to the meet-up and parked outside the Houston headquarters of LB Imports. He noticed there were no expensive cars in the small lot. Nothing flashy, nothing too loud.
The whole setup was unassuming and unremarkable. The warehouse looked like every other one in this area, tall, white, and plain. There was minimal signage, and no outward clues that the business housed inside raked in millions upon millions of dollars.
The inside was no different. The walls were stark white, and the vinyl floors were the ugliest shade of green he had ever seen. A receptionist sat at a U-shaped workstation, the wood the drabbest brown imaginable. She had no computer or monitor and set aside her phone to greet him.
“Hello! Welcome to LB Imports.” The woman behind the reception desk smiled at him. “How can I help you?”
“I have a meeting scheduled with the brothers,” Danny said. “Off the books,” he clarified when she reached for a black book on her desk.
She smiled knowingly. “Of course.”
He waited patiently while she picked up her phone and dialed. She spoke quickly in Chinese before ending the call. “Mr. Sean will see you shortly.”
“Thanks.” Not in the mood to sit, Danny walked to the wall of photographs and plaques on the wall behind the chairs. He studied them, noticing familiar faces from the local and state government. The Leung brothers hadn’t been in business here for very long, but they had come in boldly and made a lot of very important friends very quickly.
“Danny.” Sean Leung greeted as he swept into the waiting room. He looked every bit the rich asshole he was in his silver-sheen suit and white shirt. No tie, of course, and leather loafers. “Good to finally meet you.”
“Yeah.” Danny shook the other man’s hand. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Straight to the point.” Sean nodded. “I appreciate that.” He flicked his fingers. “This way.”
