“Maybe she’s traveling in disguise when she’s underground,” James suggested. “To look non-threatening, like just another homeless woman. That kind of shit.”
“Why bother? It’s not like AET’s going to hit the tunnels. They’d get lost down there in five minutes.” Harry shook his head, a defiant look on his face. “I’m telling you that she’s not using the tunnels. I’d bet you a thousand dollars she’s not. I’m confident as both an information broker and a former tunnel rat.”
Shay frowned. “Then she might just be straight-up turning invisible. Maybe she’s trying to make sure no one near the kill sites knows she has the power? She’s got to be living somewhere if she’s not teleporting in, and I’m guessing that somewhere is in Los Angeles County.”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Harry smiled. “We did pick up an interesting tidbit from someone who used to work at the Kowloon. They’re illegal, and have kept away from the cops because they’re afraid of getting deported.”
James nodded. “What did they say?”
Harry leaned forward, eagerness on his face. “One of Johnny Lee’s guys came in an hour before the attack, all busted up. Obviously had been in a fight and lost. This person overheard the guy say something like, ‘She’s coming.’”
“So they definitely knew she was coming.”
Shay patted one of her sheaths in her jacket pocket. “That explains why they were armed up.”
James furrowed his brow. “If she didn’t show up for an hour, she probably let the guy go on purpose. It must have been to work their nerves. I’ve done that shit.”
Shay shrugged. “So have I.” She looked at Harry. “Hear about anything like that with any of the other incidents, such as the gang members she killed in Wilmington? I wonder if it’s a change in her behavior.”
Harry shook his head. “Nope. That’s the only incident I’ve heard of where she clearly warned people beforehand, unless you want to count the warning she gave the cops before she beat them down.”
“No offense, but this shit doesn’t help us.” James let out a low growl. “We need something else useful. Patterns. Probable locations. Additional evidence. The cops have some incidents, but they don’t know everything. For all we know, she’s been killing people the cops don’t even know about.
“At least in the case of two hitmen, that’s true.” Harry pulled up his phone and tapped it a few times before holding it up to show them a map with a couple of red dots in Hollywood. “Cops don’t know about these incidents, but we’ve got two strong eyewitnesses who saw the Silver Ghost go through the window and kill the guys inside. They didn’t report it to the cops because the witnesses were connected to the Russian Mafia, as were the victims. The Russians moved the bodies before the cops found them. Word is the Russians are holding back for now, waiting to see what you do about it.”
James frowned. “Me?”
“Yeah. The minute that level five went out, everyone, high and low, started talking about how they figured you’d be the one to end this.”
“I’ve seen that as well on my old dark web haunts,” Shay explained.
James shrugged. “Good to be popular, I guess.”
Shay frowned. “Forget that crap for now. When were these killings?”
“A week ago.”
“This further proves that for all her posturing and the shit she said to the cops, the Silver Ghost isn’t going out of her way to advertise her kills. I mean, she could be trying to put the fear into the LA underworld, but she’s not really bothering.” She gave James a curious look. “Makes me think that’s not her main objective, but I guess it doesn’t matter as long as we find her.”
Yeah, I know what you’re getting at. This is more about training for her than doing much about the criminals in the city. Don’t doubt that, just don’t know what to do with it.
Harry smiled. “Anyway, I’ve got everybody looking and asking around. People tell us things they wouldn’t tell the cops, let alone James.” He shrugged, an apologetic look on his face. “No offense, it’s just that you are kind of a force of nature, and a lot of people on the wrong side of the law are extra worried right now that you might take a page from the Silver Ghost’s book.”
James frowned. “What the fuck? What do you mean?”
Shay’s expression darkened, but she didn’t say anything.
The boy sighed and shrugged. “Everyone knows what you did to the Harriken, James. I mean, even people not connected in any way to the underworld know. There are Scourge of Harriken websites.”
“First of all, I didn’t set those up,” James growled. “Second, they fucked with my dog. People who fuck with my dog, my friends, or my family get fucked up in return. Simple policy, and the Harriken didn’t learn the lesson. That’s why they’re gone now.”
Harry threw up his hands. “I know, I know. Not saying I miss them. I barely dealt with them, and I still think they were grade-A assholes. The world’s a better place without them, but a lot of people are thinking, ‘Well, if the Silver Ghost just kills whoever she wants without bounties, what if Brownstone starts too?’ And they’ve started to make plans with that in mind.”
James grunted. “I’m only doing this because of the bounty and because the cops asked me to. I’m not going to become a vigilante. That shit takes too much work and makes life more complicated. Everyone I’ve ever fucked with in my entire life either had a bounty or fucked with me or someone I cared about.”
Shay snickered. “You know what, that’s probably true. I’m more likely to become a vigilante than James, so people can stop wetting their pants.”
“I know. I’m just saying, is all.” Harry leaned forward. “And I wanted you to know the general mood on the streets, not just among the high-end gangsters and stuff. The point is, you catching the Silver Ghost isn’t just good for the cops, it’s good for everybody. It’ll defuse a bomb that’s close to going off. The last thing LA needs is for the entire underworld to lose their damned minds over Brownstone…again.”
“Could make money off bets.” Shay shrugged. “Another Great Brownstone Hunt or Chase or whatever the hell Tyler called it.”
James grunted. “Doesn’t matter. I’m ending this shit before it gets that far. The Silver Ghost can’t hide forever, and now she’s got everyone looking for her. She should have stuck to killing guys in alleys.”
Shay turned to Harry. “We need your help to do this. There’s got to be some pattern to what the Ghost is doing. If she were teleporting, I could buy that it was random, but she’s choosing to go to specific places, which means she has particular reasons and pre-selected targets. We need to figure out how she’s picking those targets.” She gestured to Harry’s phone. “I think you realize that, too. It’s why you’re carefully tracking locations on maps.”
Harry nodded. “Yes, but we haven’t found anything. She’s been all over the metro area, and the neighborhood seems random by night.” His eyes widened. “That is one thing we’ve been able to confirm. She only attacks at night.”
“Better to hide,” James suggested. “Not that surprising.”
“Or maybe her powers don’t work in the sun.” Shay shrugged. “If she’s using some sort of invisibility technique, it might be too obvious during the day. That limits her hours of attack, but we still need the next location.”
“Yeah. Maybe there’s something else connecting them, like they’re all the same distance from a central point. I’ve found guys before looking at that sort of thing.”
Harry shook his head. “We’ve looked at that, but I honestly don’t see any pattern. It all looks like random choices. I mean, it’s not like I’ve tried to compare to the number of bagel shops or whatever, but I’ve tried to look at everything obvious that concerns distance, location, and that sort of thing.”
“Coordinates,” Shay murmured, looking down. She lifted her head and locked eyes with the teen info broker. “Get me the coordinates for every incident you can. It’s not that I don’t believe i
n you guys, but we have access to major data crunchers who might be able to use an algorithm or something to pick out more information, even if it is something as stupid as the number of local bagel shops. We’re close.” She nodded with a frown. “I can feel it. I can smell it. All my instincts tell me that. This bitch can’t hide completely. We just need to put together the puzzle pieces that everyone’s found: you, the cops and our info specialists.”
“Fine,” Harry replied. “I’ll send you all the information we have, but we can’t a hundred percent guarantee that it’s going to be the exact location of every incident, only close. It’s not like we run around with drones. Just people.”
Shay grinned. “Sometimes close enough works. Like with grenades. Or nukes.”
Harry chuckled. “Planning to drop a nuke on her?”
“Nah, something better.” Shay nodded at James. “Him.”
15
Trey wrinkled his nose as he stepped into the dive bar. Even when he’d been working the streets as a gang member, he’d always held himself to a higher standard than a lot of the trash around him. A man had to respect himself and how he presented himself, after all, or no one else would.
Don’t matter much. Just here to get a little information. The dry cleaning will get the smell out later.
He ignored the hostile glares coming his way. Probably a quarter of the men in the room had a bounty, but he wasn’t there for them. If they wanted to be stupid and come at him, it’d be their own damned fault when he put them down.
The bounty hunter continued through the room toward a back table and his target for today: Anthony. The old man was always easy to pick out with his bad spray tan and ill-fitting suits.
Trey stopped at the informant’s table. “You should take your suit to a motherfucking tailor, Anthony. I know you ain’t so poor you can’t afford that shit.”
The informant looked up at Trey with a smile and shrugged. “Maybe it’s just part of my unique charm.”
“You ain’t got no charm, that’s for damned sure.” Trey pulled out a chair and sat. “But you did tell me you got some information on the Ghost, and I’ve got some money dying to leave me and go to you, so why don’t you make us both happy?”
Anthony leaned forward with a smirk. “You serious right now, Garfield?”
“When have you ever known me not to be serious when I show up to talk to you, Anthony?” Trey snorted. “You said you have information, so fucking spill already.”
“I don’t know where the Silver Ghost is, but I do know what people are saying.” Anthony sniffed and scratched his nose. “They’re saying she isn’t real.”
Trey laughed. “So who killed all those 25K and all the other people she’s laid out? What, they committed suicide?”
Anthony pointed at him. “I’ll tell you what the local Mafia thinks. They think the Silver Ghost shit is just a scam to scare people and cover things up. They think some of you Brownstone boys have gotten a little trigger-happy, and you’re killing people on the side.”
“Most of our bounties ain’t dead or alive.” Trey frowned. “Best case for killing a non-dead-or-alive bounty is half the bounty, and that’s the best case. Why the fuck would we do that? We’re in this shit for the money.”
“Hey, personally, I don’t believe that shit.” Anthony sat up and shrugged. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from dealing with you, Garfield, it’s that you Brownstone boys are just like your boss. You’re all about making a big show to scare people, not hiding and skulking. And it’s like you said—what do you get out of it?”
Trey frowned. “This shit ain’t useful to me. Why should I pay you for this?”
“Because it’s a warning. The Silver Ghost isn’t the only person you have to worry about. Word on the street is that people are thinking about a little payback to make it clear that the Brownstone Agency can’t do what they want to whoever they want.” Anthony sighed. “I, of course, am a neutral party in all this, but I figured you should know. You should watch your back until this Silver Ghost shit is sorted out, Garfield. I’d hate to lose a good source of income.”
Trey chuckled and pulled out his phone. He initiated a TrollCoin payment to Anthony and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He didn’t need the address information. They did this all the time.
“I’ll try not to die and force you to get more dishonest work, Anthony.” Trey stood and adjusted his lapels. “But it’s going to be a sad day for any motherfuckers who come after me. I ain’t the man I once was.”
Trey sighed about ten minutes later when he looked in his rearview mirror. He wasn’t sure if he would have noticed the tail as easily without Anthony’s warning, but the black Lincoln following him wasn’t trying to be subtle.
“Thanks, Anthony. I might actually owe you one, but too bad Vic isn’t with me. It’d be a nice warmup for the Silver Ghost.”
Trey slowed and changed lanes, thinking about his options. He didn’t want to lead them all the way back to the loft. If they had any explosives with them, they might hit the building, and that would be a headache for everyone.
A little evasive driving on the highway might lose them, but that risked damage to his beloved baby—his F-350. As much as Trey respected the big man, he let his truck get damaged too often, and this was one time Trey didn’t want to follow in James Brownstone’s footsteps.
“Okay,” Trey mumbled to himself. “Not gonna be a bitch and lead them to the police, but if I try too much bullshit on the road, not only do I risk the truck, but I also risk other people getting hurt. Guess there’s only one obvious option.”
Trey looked back and forth, seeking a relatively deserted parking lot. He’d learned his lesson about fighting around cars the expensive way.
Several more minutes passed before he spotted an abandoned movie theater coming up on his right. He took the exit a little too hard, earning a honk from a car behind him, but once he turned into the parking lot, they continued on.
Trey slowed the truck to a stop and slipped on his enchanted gloves after putting his vehicle in Park. He was already wearing his bulletproof vest. There was no way he’d walk into the kind of place Anthony liked to frequent without it.
The Lincoln pulled into the parking lot, and Trey stepped out of his truck and jogged a few yards away from it.
Those motherfuckers better not use a rocket launcher or some shit like that.
Trey waited, his arms crossed, as the Lincoln slowed and stopped about ten yards away. The dark-tinted windows denied him a view of whoever was inside, but everything about the car screamed Mafia to him.
He tapped his foot impatiently, and a good minute passed before all four doors of the car opened and four large men in dark suits and ties stepped out.
At least these bitches are dressing with class. None of this tracksuit-and-chains bullshit.
Trey frowned. “Can I help you, gentlemen?”
One of the men stepped forward, a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “I just want to make sure of something first. You’re Trey Garfield, right?” He nodded toward the truck. “I can’t imagine there are a lot of guys of your description driving around in some old piece of shit like that.”
Trey’s face twitched. “Please don’t disrespect my truck, and I won’t disrespect you.”
The man grinned. “Touchy, touchy.”
“But yes, I’m Trey Garfield of the Brownstone Agency.” Trey gave the man a feral grin. “And who might you be?”
The man adjusted his tie. “We represent local family interests.”
There we go. Knew they were Mafia bitches.
“Oh, I see. It’s good to be a family man. Lots of loyalty and shit. I can respect that. Any particular family you represent?”
“That’s not important,” the mobster replied. “The important thing is all this Silver Ghost shit.”
Trey chuckled. “Now, there’s a point we agree on. If you know anything about the Silver Ghost, there’s a reward in it for you. If this is s
ome shit where you think we it made up, I guarantee you’re wrong.”
The mobster’s smile grew. “You see, here’s the thing. We’ve got a different opinion than some. I don’t know if the Silver Ghost is some crazy Oriceran bitch who watched too many vigilante movies or if she’s just a nasty bedtime story people tell each other at night.” He pointed at Trey. “I do know, though, that you’ve been making a lot of noise about her.”
Trey shrugged. “Big man wants her in a bad way. Level five, you know. And the big man don’t like people who hurt cops.”
“If this was just Brownstone, we could tolerate that.” The mobster’s smile finally vanished. “No one in Vegas is stupid enough to go up against Brownstone, not like some of those dumb fuckers in Los Angeles. Californians, am I right?” He shrugged and grinned at his friends.
They all laughed.
Trey didn’t laugh, but he didn’t frown either. He was going to play it cool and let them escalate the situation. If James questioned him later, he wanted it clear that he wasn’t picking unnecessary fights and making things complicated.
“Yeah, lots of crazy fuckers in Los Angeles,” he replied. “Not gonna deny that, but what’s your point? If no one in Vegas is stupid enough to go up against Brownstone, then why are you here talking to me now?”
The mobster shook his head. “Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? You’re not Brownstone. You might work for him, but you’re not him, and he’s not here most of the time. You are.”
Trey nodded. “True enough, and?”
“The point is, we can tolerate it when Brownstone comes around here and throws his weight around.” The mobster shrugged. “Just kind of the price of doing business. You prepare for the hurricane, you know? You don’t bitch about it. But you? You’re not him. You’re just some piece-of-shit gangbanger wannabe acting like Brownstone.”
Trey took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Now, see, there you go. I’m here trying to keep my temper and all that shit, and you’re disrespecting me after I went out of my way to show you respect. Now, does that sound fair?”
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