by Shay Savage
“Let me know if he doesn’t.”
“Will do.”
“Anything else I should know about?”
“We did have an interesting customer.”
“Oh yeah? Who?”
“Sebastian Stark.”
“Never heard of him.”
“How about Landon Stark?”
“That dude from Seattle? Works for Franks?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Is Sebastian his son or something?”
“I’m not sure. The weird thing is, he came in looking for a driver’s license with Landon Stark’s name but Sebastian Stark’s picture. Said he just needed a quick one, nothing fancy.”
“Did you make him one?”
“Sure.” Antony shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I? We hardly have any dealings with the Seattle mob.”
“If he gets in trouble with it, and it’s traced back to us, we could be held responsible.”
“I thought of that. It won’t be traced to us.”
“Why not?”
“Because I did a shit job with it. I didn’t make him one, just took his license and doctored it up.”
I glare at him, not sure what I think of all this. Since we ultimately service them all, the Orso family stays out of the big crime syndicates’ issues.
“Don’t do any of that shit for the Chicago guys,” I tell him. “They barely escaped a massive war up there recently.”
“Yeah, I know.” Antony looks down at his feet. “Micha said as much last year when it all started up. I figured since we don’t deal much with Seattle anyway, it didn’t matter.”
“If it does get back to us, I’ll take it out on you.”
“Duly noted.”
“How is it going here? Everything set up now?”
“Yeah, it’s all good, boss. The new skimmers are working out great, and buyers are lining up for the data.”
“Glad to hear it. Who’s the new guy working with Reid?
“The one who looks like he’s twelve?”
“Yeah.”
“His name is Will Phillips. He’s a senior in high school but really good with the computers, I guess. He’s rewritten some of the algorithms for the server traces and such. Says it will make us even harder to track but easier to transfer money into the offshore accounts. I don’t get much of what he’s saying, but he certainly seems to know his shit.”
“Phillips? Ron Phillips’ kid?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Ron was a good guy.” I remember him from several years back. He did a lot of the computer work for my father and brother.
“I always liked him.” Antony looks nostalgically into the distance.
“He got himself killed in a car wreck, didn’t he?” I try to picture Ron’s face in my head and compare it to the kid I saw hunched over a computer.
“That’s just the kind of guy he is. Well, was.”
“How do ya mean?”
“No mess for us to clean up.” Antony smirks.
“Very considerate.” I shake my head and roll my eyes.
“I thought so.” He continues to grin. He finishes his smoke and updates me on the rest of the business in Cincinnati while simultaneously flipping through some hook-up app, mostly swiping right. Clearly, Antony isn’t too picky.
I sigh heavily.
“Antony, I need a favor.”
“Anything you want, boss. What can I do ya for?”
“Do you remember that girl from the club the other night? The one with the bad taste in internet dates?”
“Sure. We grabbed a pic of her ID when you had me take care of that guy for ya. Well, Threes did most of it, but you know what I mean. Cherice Bay.”
“That’s her. I need to check her out.”
“I should be able to get that done today.”
“I was hoping we could do it now.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Antony eyes me for a moment, and then I follow him up the stairs and inside.
Antony closes the door with a bang, but no one hears the noise or looks up. Several dozen people hover over the workstations lined up against the walls. The center of the room is filled with boxes on pallets, all marked with Chinese characters above the English words indicating computer parts.
The boxes aren’t filled with computer parts, of course. They’re filled with stolen and wiped phones, which are much more profitable.
I follow Antony past the workers, briefly glancing at their meticulously created forgeries of passports, birth certificates, social security cards, and driver’s licenses. On the other side of the warehouse is another door, and Antony walks casually through it to the far side of the building.
I close the door behind me and give my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. This part of the warehouse is empty and looks like it hasn’t fulfilled its role as a place to store stuff for years. The steady drip, drip, drip of a leaking pipe echoes through the concrete structure.
Antony leans over a folding table and switches on the computer that sits there. We wait for the PC to boot up, and then Antony starts his searching.
“All right,” Antony says. “Nothing too spectacular here, but I did find her. Driver’s license looks legit. Cherice Marie Bay hails from Accident, Maryland.”
“Accident? Really?”
“Yeah, that’s the name of the place. I noticed the town when I was looking at the surveillance footage and honestly thought it was bogus, but I checked it out, and it’s legit. Looks like she’s lived there all her life with an aunt named Virginia Marie Bay. Never applied for a passport. If you want a copy of her birth certificate, I’ll have to file for it in Maryland. I don’t think we have any contacts that can get us one, so we’d have to wait on that. Worked in the town library while she was in high school. Never went to college, maybe because her aunt got sick the summer after her high school graduation. She passed away last fall.”
“That all fits with what she’s told me.”
“Virginia Bay owned an antique shop in Accident, which has been passed down to Cherice but hasn’t been reopened since Virginia died. Cherice moved to Cascade Falls in an apartment on East Fourth Street about three weeks ago.”
“Which apartment building?”
“One of Reid’s places. Used to be quite a slum, but he fixed it up pretty good.”
“Oh, I know the one you mean. He painted it bright yellow, for fuck’s sake.”
“At least that’s faded a bit now. He did a major cleanup job on it. Put in all new appliances and shit. The units are small, but they’re pretty nice now. She’s on the second floor, apartment seven.”
“What else is there?”
“Not a lot, really. Tax returns just show her making minimum wage at a diner and a bit more than that at the library. The antique place and a house are both in her name but no other real estate. She drive’s a 2009 Honda Civic, which has liability insurance on it. She got renter’s insurance when she moved here, too. Sounds like she’s fairly cautious.”
“Anything else? Something more interesting?”
“Her social media is pretty stagnant. She has Facebook but nothing else. Not a lot of friends, it seems. She hasn’t updated and no one has posted on her timeline since a couple weeks after her aunt’s death. There are some birthday wishes from last August, but they’re pretty generic. There are a few pictures, but the last one is pretty old.”
I scroll through some photos, and almost all of the pictures are from her high school days and posted by someone else with Cherry just being tagged in the photo. None of the pictures show her with a group of steady friends though there are a few of her with the same guy.
I grit my teeth, not caring for the idea.
“Who’s he?” I ask, tapping my finger on what is obviously a senior prom moment.
“Justin Beeler. Oh wow, poor guy.” Antony laughs as he clacks at the keyboard. “Aside from the poorly chosen name, he seems a little more active on the
social media though there’s nothing showing the two of them since high school. Oh, wait. Here’s a bunch of pics of him wearing a rainbow shirt at a Pride parade, kissing his new boyfriend.”
“Huh. I wonder if she knew that.”
“Maybe he was her gay best friend. That’s a thing, I hear. Straight chicks go out with their gay friends so no one is alone. There’s even a movie.”
“Whatever.” Whoever he is or was to her, I can’t view him as much of a threat. “Move on. What about current relationships or close friendships?”
“Not seeing much else, certainly nothing consistent. She’s either a loner or she just doesn’t care for social media. There are people like that.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I step back from the screen.
If Cherry is a loner, that works for me. She probably doesn’t have a lot of experience with men, and she doesn’t appear to have any girlfriends who will interfere or give her advice on what to do. I won’t have to worry about a friend raising red flags, warning her to stay away from me or generally getting in the way.
Her aunt’s passing is more recent than I thought, but that may also work to my advantage. I can be the one who helps her adjust to a new place and helps her through her grief. The job at the park will help keep her isolated, too. Hopefully, she’ll let me keep her far too involved to form any close relationships with anyone else.
I will be her sole confidant.
“Nate?”
I glance at my cousin to find his suspicious eyes peering at mine.
“What?”
“Are you thinking…?” He leans back, eyes narrowed. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Not sure yet.” I shrug, not wanting to get into details right now.
Antony stares at me for another long minute before he grins.
“It is. I can see it in your eyes.” He points to the screen. “That’s all I can get with the first pass. You want me to dig a little deeper? Get that birth certificate and shit?”
“Yes, please.”
“What else do you want to know about her?”
“Everything.”
Chapter 12—Dinner Disaster
“Are you even trying?”
“Lay off, Pops. I know what I’m doing.”
“Like hell you do. You should be using that pool boy to drive.”
I grit my teeth. Not only has Mark already left for the day, but I didn’t even think to ask him before now. Then again, that might not work on Cherry.
“She’s a small-town girl, Pops. I don’t think a lot of extras like that are going to impress her.” I’ve been debating the same thing for an hour.
“Everyone gets impressed by a limo.”
“Not this time.” I look myself over in the mirror, fix a stray strand of hair, and unbutton the top button of my shirt.
“You should wear a tie.”
“It’s not the seventies anymore, Pops.” I lick my lips and look myself up and down, wondering if he’s right. I’m trying to impress her after all, and a tie might be just the thing. However, I don’t want to come off as being pompous.
Actively ignoring my father’s continued advice, I nod at my reflection and head downstairs. I have about twenty minutes before I pick up Miss Cherry Bay, who was kind enough to provide me with her address. I already knew it, of course, but I considered her willingness to tell me a positive step.
I take a moment to debate which car to drive—something sporty or something more luxurious? Pops leans against the sleek black and silver Lotus Evija.
“Way over the top.”
“She’s into the environment.”
“Just because she wants to be a botanist doesn’t mean she’s an environmentalist.” I shake my head and look away, knowing my statement is rather obtuse.
“Do you want to impress her or not?”
“Not everyone is impressed by the same things,” I mutter.
Pops rolls his eyes and points to the door of the Lotus. With a sigh, I walk over to the wall, grab the key fob, and jump in the car.
I’m beyond nervous, and I’m not exactly sure why. Granted, it has been a while since I’ve actually gone on a date per se, but it seems like something more than that. I’m used to women coming to me, not me pursuing them. Women have always been drawn to my money and the power the Orso name brings with it, but Cherry likely hasn’t figured all of that out yet. Even when she does, I’m not sure it will influence her.
I want to impress her. I need to impress her, or all of this falls apart.
As I park in the lot for her building, I wipe my hands on my jacket. I can’t believe my palms are sweating, and it will hardly make a good first impression. I take a minute to collect myself and focus on my goal before I walk up the stairs to her door. The apartment doesn’t appear to have a doorbell, so I knock politely, but no one answers. I knock a little harder, and the apartment door behind me opens.
“Oh!”
I glance behind me to find a woman staring at me, wide-eyed and dressed in what can only be considered a house frock. I’m nearly blinded by the pink and blue flowers that cover it.
“Good evening,” I say with a polite smile. “Do you know if Miss Bay is at home?”
Her mouth drops open, but before she can reply, Cherry opens the door, and all thoughts of garish flowers vanish.
Cherry stands before me, hand still on the doorknob, wearing a slinky, dark red dress that swoops down her neckline and stops just above her knee. Hanging atop the slight amount of visual cleavage is a gold pendant decorated with a garnet and pearls. Though I know nothing about vintage jewelry, the necklace is almost certainly an antique.
She is absolutely stunning.
“Hi!” She looks at me cautiously as she blushes.
I glance up quickly, realizing that I had been unabashedly ogling her, and manage a sheepish smile.
“Hi there,” I reply. “You look amazing!”
“Thank you! I hope his is all right. I wasn’t sure where we were going.”
“It’s perfect.” I should have worn the damn tie.
“Hey, Jessie! How are you?”
“I’m…I’m fine.”
“Nate, this is my neighbor, Jessie.”
“It’s a pleasure.” I reach out and shake the woman’s hand.
“Nice to meet you.” She stammers and she stares at me, still looking like her eyes are going to pop right out of her head at any moment.
“Are you ready, Miss Bay?”
“I am,” Cherry says.
She waves at Jessie as we head off down the stairs and to the parking lot. I gesture toward the passenger side of the car with a swoop of my arm.
“My God,” Cherry says breathlessly. “What the hell is that?”
“What? The car?” As if I don’t know what she’s talking about. I hit a button on the fob, and both doors rise above the vehicle like wings. “It’s a Lotus. Brand new hypercar model.”
“I have no idea what that means.” Cherry shakes her head and just stands there, looking at it.
“It’s all electric but stupidly powerful,” I say with a smile. I take her hand and help her keep her balance as she maneuvers into the low passenger seat, trying to keep her skirt straight at the same time. It doesn’t work, and the garment rises up her leg, exposing more of her delicious thighs.
Oh yes, this car was the perfect choice.
“This thing looks like it should be on a racetrack, not on the street,” Cherry says when I get in. “That steering wheel!”
“Well, yeah, this car certainly would be comfortable on the track. The shape of the steering wheel makes it much easier to control at high speeds.”
“How fast does it go?”
“Over two hundred. Two thousand horsepower and no harmful emissions!” I grin at her as I take the wheel and pull out onto the street.
She purses her lips and wrinkles her nose. I swallow hard, wondering if choosing this car was a mistake. She doesn’t appear to be impressed. In fact, she looks a little hor
rified.
Then I glance down at her half-exposed thighs, and I can’t regret my choice.
“It’s certainly quiet,” Cherry says. “I expect sports cars to be loud.”
“Not this one. It gets a bit louder when it’s going fast, but it doesn’t have all that combustion rumble you’d get with other cars.”
“Do you have to charge it all the time?”
“I really only take it out on special occasions,” I say with a wink. “I keep it charged when it’s in the garage. In theory, the battery is capable of a full recharge in under ten minutes.”
“Why ‘in theory’?”
“There isn’t a charger yet that can charge that fast.” I laugh. “This is actually a prototype model. These won’t be commercially available until later this year or next.”
“How did you get it, then?”
“I’ve got a friend.” I glance over, winking at her again.
Don’t overdo it, Nate.
“How much did it cost?”
“You do not want to know.”
“Probably not,” Cherry mutters under her breath.
Fuck. I should have gone with the basic Lexus. It doesn’t help that the valet at the restaurant gawks open-mouthed as I hand him the key fob. It also doesn’t help when a dozen or so guys and two women leave their dates to join the ogling. Cherry ducks away from them as they start to ask questions, her cheeks burning red.
Inside, the restaurant is a madhouse. Every table is occupied, and a large group mills around the host’s desk, waiting for a table. Even the bar is packed with more people standing around, holding their drinks and jockeying for a seat.
“Do you have a reservation?” the host asks without looking up.
“No.”
“Then I’m afraid the wait is well over an—” The host looks up, and his mouth drops open as I raise an eyebrow. “Oh! Mr. Orso! My apologies. Uh…let me see what we can find for you.”
“Thank you,” I reply with a smile.
“This place is really busy,” Cherry says as she looks around. “How long is the wait?”
“Not long, I’m sure.” I stare at the curve of her neck as she glances around the foyer full of people and the lack of open tables.