But with Simon gone, I had to keep an eye on things, so when Alonso told me he had a meeting with a potential client, I had to show.
“Why don’t you wait until Simon’s back?” I asked Alonso.
He’d taken up Simon’s spot behind the desk in his office at Pearl of China as if it belonged to him.
“This guy’s perfect—in a hurry for money, desperate.” Alonso adjusted the chair until it was up so high you couldn’t tell how short he was. His feet didn’t reach the floor. “I don’t know when Simon’s going to be back anyway. Did he tell you?”
“No.” Simon didn’t usually keep secrets from me. It was stupid that this bothered me now, given my feelings toward him. “Still, send the guy somewhere else. What if Simon doesn’t approve?”
“Are you kidding?” Alonso checked his reflection in one of Simon’s picture frames, rubbing his hand along his pasty white cheek. “This is easy money. I could tell on the phone the guy is a patsy.” He cracked his knuckles. “Patsies are great for compounding interest.”
Alonso just wanted to knock someone senseless.
The appointment arrived. It was a younger man, probably around my age, with longish dark hair and an easy grin. He was skinny, with dark circles under his eyes. An addict, maybe? He held out his hand for Alonso to shake. He didn’t seem nervous at all to be there. Most people usually were. I stood against the wall where I could observe his profile, his hands, his feet, anything that might reveal some kind of tell. Simon would want these details later. Alonso wouldn’t see past an easy target.
“Fred Madsen,” Alonso said, giving him a pointed stare. It had nowhere near the same impact as Simon’s. “Are you sure you want to be here?”
Fred didn’t even twitch. “Of course.”
“Why?”
His eyebrows rose the tiniest bit. “Because I need the money.”
This Fred guy needed to watch his tone or Alonso would prove his strength before he even signed the papers.
“Do you really need it so badly?” So far Alonso was following Simon’s script exactly. Simon always made it very clear to each of his clients what would happen if they didn’t pay up. Yet they always seemed surprised when an enforcer came calling.
“I have a solid investment plan but I need the start-up capital.” He cracked a slight smile. “It’s the sort of thing a bank wouldn’t want to be connected with, but still, all above board. I have all the necessary paperwork.”
I tensed when he opened a briefcase, but he only pulled out a stack of papers and handed them to Alonso.
Alonso looked over the documents, taking his time, trying to make Fred sweat, but the guy inspected the office and stared at the pictures as if he had all day and no cares at all. It made me suspicious. Either he’d fallen from the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down, or he was up to something.
“Seems to be in order,” Alonso said finally. He folded his hands over the papers. “I’ll have to check your references, of course.”
“Of course,” Fred replied with a smile.
Alonso’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t lend fifty thousand to just anyone. I’ll be doing some digging.”
Fred shrugged. “Go for it.”
Now I was really suspicious. Fred didn’t seem desperate like Alonso thought. But there was something off about him. He was too young, too sure of himself. That kind of confidence comes with experience and Fred didn’t look like he had any.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” I asked Alonso. Fred gave me a once-over as if noticing me for the first time.
Alonso ignored me. “You’ll owe two grand a week, plus ten percent interest. You miss a payment, interest goes up. You miss two payments, we start taking a more personal interest.”
Fred winced. Finally, he was showing something real. “I understand.”
Alonso rifled through Simon’s desk drawers. Messing up his desk would be another thing on the list of what Simon would be upset about when he got back. But that would be nothing compared to this mess.
“I think we should talk now,” I said.
Alonso grit his teeth but ignored me. He handed the paperwork to Fred. “Go ahead and read it over. If you’re happy with the terms, sign.”
Fred paled but he bent over the papers and scrawled a signature. When he was done, he handed them back to Alonso, his grin gone. Maybe his nonchalance had been an act, something he couldn’t keep up anymore.
“My errand boy here will be in touch, once I’ve made sure everything is in order.”
My knuckles itched, begging to knock some sense into Alonso.
Alonso and Fred stood, shook hands.
“Excellent,” Fred said, his grin back in place. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
Alonso gave him a malicious, pencil thin smile in return. No doubt he was squeezing the life out of Fred’s hand. “You too.”
Fred swallowed. When Alonso let him go, he left the room, shaking out his hand as he went.
“That was a mistake,” I said as soon as he was gone. “There’s something shady about him.”
Alonso rolled his eyes. “Everyone who comes in here is shady. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t be here. He’s just stupid. That investment might pan out but it’ll take a while. Which means lots of cash coming our way.” He held out Fred’s papers to me. “Check on these, just in case.”
“I don’t work for you.”
He smirked. “You might, one day.”
No chance of that. Alonso was too stupid and too greedy to run this place on his own. He’d screwed up with Fred today, I’d bet on it. I wasn’t going near this deal.
“Your bed,” I replied. “You lay in it.”
“Simon’s gonna give me a big fat bonus for this deal when the money starts coming in. You’ll see. And if I get to mess up Fred Madsen’s face a few times first, all the better.”
“Just remember whose office this is,” I said. Alonso didn’t listen to me this time either.
Chapter 28
MAGGIE
Ever since I got myself shot, my brother had been acting weird. Weirder than usual. Secretive. He went out at night, had hushed conversations on the phone, and changed the subject every time I brought it up.
A few days after the Jay incident—which I wasn’t thinking about, no matter how confident his kiss had been—Fraze had gone out and still wasn’t home when I got back from the gym. I waited up but finally called it a night at one in the morning. Tossing and turning, I woke at the click of the door. Footsteps crept down the hall and into the bathroom. I got out of bed.
“Fraze?” I said into the bathroom door.
“Yeah,” he said from the other side. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“It’s all good. Late night, is all. Go to bed, Mags.”
I hesitated. “Okay. See you in the morning.”
It took a while for me to fall back asleep. What could Frasier be doing out there all by himself? Maybe he had friends I didn’t know, or he’d met new ones since coming here. Fraze made new friends as easily as picking produce at the grocery store. Still, I worried. Couldn’t help myself.
In the morning, I woke to the smell of frying bacon. Rubbing my eyes, I shuffled into the kitchen. Frasier was at the stove, three pans in front of him.
“What are you doing?” I leaned over his shoulder to check out the bacon, scrambled eggs, and fat sausages. “Trying to give me a heart attack?”
He showed the barest of smiles, but didn’t say anything.
I checked the time on the stove. Eight in the morning and I had to be at the diner in an hour. “I gotta jump in the shower,” I said. “Save me some?”
When I got out, my brother had set the table with two heaping plates, two glasses of orange juice, and two forks. After twisting my hair into a wet bun, I took a seat at the small kitchen table.
“What is this?” I said, suspicious. Frasier never cooked when he was at home.
&nbs
p; His eyes met mine. “Consider it a goodbye breakfast.”
“No.” It was too soon.
Frasier dug into his eggs, shoveling them into his mouth like it was his Last Supper. I ate a few bites, had one piece of bacon, then pushed my plate away.
“Where to this time?” My voice wavered, my nonchalance falling flat.
“A friend of mine has a job lined up. We’ve been working out the details these last few days.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Working in a recording studio,” he said. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal, I couldn’t pass it up.”
“Doing what?”
He shoved a sausage into his mouth before answering. The only words I understood were ‘music’ and ‘boss.’
I scraped the rest of my food onto his plate, then took my dishes to the dishwasher. “Sounds…” I didn’t know what it sounded like. “Where?”
Fraze didn’t answer. My hands braced against the counter, I watched him eat, clearing his plate in five minutes.
He grinned at me around his last bite and I laughed. “Pig,” I said. I checked the time. After eight thirty. “I’ve gotta go. When are you leaving? Can you stop by the diner first?”
He went to his duffel bag, which was already packed. The pile of clothes that had graced the floor by the couch was gone. He bent down, grabbed an envelope, and then came to me.
“I’ve got a present for you.”
“What is it?”
He grabbed my hand and put the envelope on my palm. His eyes were wide like they used to get on Christmas morning when we were kids, before he stopped getting along with our dad. Back when he still believed in something.
I opened the envelope. Inside was a stack of bills. Hundred dollar bills. I gasped.
“You can cancel that bank appointment. Thirteen thousand plus a little extra thrown in for you.”
He looked so pleased with himself but my heart was pumping faster than when I auditioned for EDT. I was more scared than I’d been outside the gym with Jay and the guys who wanted to kill him.
“How much?”
“Fourteen.”
A thousand bucks could cover a year’s worth of drop-in classes at Fluidity. “Where did you get this?”
He shrugged, like fourteen grand was no big deal. “It’s an advance for my new job.”
“Seriously?” I put the envelope down.
He waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t you trust me?”
“This isn’t a game, Fraze.”
“I know, Mags.” His gaze went to my arm, the scar currently covered by my gold work shirt. “I was supposed to settle in with this money. Get an apartment, a car, that sort of thing. But you know me, I can crash on couches and bum rides until things take off. I told you this job’s a big deal.”
I shook my head. This was exactly what I’d worried about. I knew he would try to help me.
“Just take it, Maggie.”
I met his eyes. “I’m scared.”
He pulled me into a hug. “Hey. There’s nothing to be scared of.” He let go. “It’s completely legit. Okay? I’ve already talked to Bron and she’s going to make sure Nico pays me back. If I could, I’d give the money straight to this Ting guy so you wouldn’t have to see him again. But I can’t stay.”
I nodded, a lump still in my throat.
“Besides, how can you be scared of this? You stepped in front of a bullet.”
It hadn’t gone down quite like that but I didn’t say anything. My brother shoved me toward the door. “Get to work. I’ll stick around so we can have one last lunch together and then I’m outta here.”
I swallowed. “Promise?”
He grinned. “I’m the king of keeping promises.”
I didn’t buy that lie any more than his others.
I had to beg Craig for one last lunch break with Frasier. His patience with me was wearing thin, but he allowed it, as long as I changed out of my uniform first. I took off my apron, pulled my hoodie from my dance bag and slipped it over my ugly gold shirt. Good enough.
We sat by the window and people-watched while Fraze downed the Fishers of Men platter and I picked at a Garden of Eden salad. My brother was leaving. I’d had him for a short couple of weeks and then in a few minutes he would be gone again, probably for years. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t ask him to stay. He wouldn’t anyway. Not for me, not for anyone. It was like he had wings on his shoes, always flying away, never staying put. Or as Fraze liked to say, he had a rocket under his butt that never burned out.
“Don’t stop the emails.” Frasier licked the grease off his fingers. “Even if I don’t reply. It means my phone is dead or I don’t have access to wi-fi.”
“No excuses,” I said, pointing at him with my fork. “Or I’ll come down there myself.” I frowned. “Where are you going again?”
Fraze scooted from the booth. “I’m gonna check out some sights along the way, but I better go before I miss my bus.”
I didn’t fail to notice that he wouldn’t tell me where this so-called job was. But I didn’t push it. Fraze would be a lot more forthcoming in an email.
He was already at the door, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. I looked at our empty dishes on the table and sighed. Another meal coming out of my paycheck. I wouldn’t complain though. Because of Fraze, fourteen grand was hidden in my pillowcase.
We stepped into the sunlight. The street outside the diner was busy with people on their lunch break.
My brother pulled me into a tight hug. We were the same height, and I rested my chin on his shoulder. He smelled like grease and shave gel, not familiar but not strange either.
“I’m glad you came,” I said.
He pulled away. “Be good.” He tugged on my ponytail. I batted his hand away.
“When am I not?”
He hugged me again, lingering. We both knew it would be a long time until we saw each other again. When he let go, his parting smile was bright and confident. “I’ll see you.” He shouldered his bag and headed down the street, turning once and waving goodbye before disappearing around a corner.
When he was gone, I turned back to the diner. Jay Thornton was standing on the sidewalk, his feet wide apart, his arms crossed, staring at me. A scowl darkened his face. He was angry. Even though I’d seen him fight, he looked truly dangerous right then. Dangerous to me.
I hurried inside the diner, my heart beating faster than my footsteps.
Chapter 29
JAY
I’d seen her. Maggie. With Fred Madsen. They’d been hugging on the street outside her diner. I’d seen the way he looked at her before disappearing around the corner. They were obviously together. He’d borrowed fifty grand. I knew something was off about that guy but I never thought Maggie would be involved. And what were they doing with the thirty-seven left over?
My anger mounted the entire day until Hopkins showed up at beginner Muay Thai, distracting me. I didn’t expect him to show so soon, not when I hadn’t given him a sign that I had anything for him.
“What are you doing here?” I said through my teeth. I was hanging up a poster on the bulletin board and he’d come to stand beside me, perusing the board as if he were interested in the upcoming junior competitions.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“This isn’t a good idea. I’m being tailed.” I hurried away, scanning the street outside the window for the Mazda with the blue rims. It wasn’t there. But if he was smart, he’d switch up cars every so often anyway.
Hopkins followed me. “Gloves?” he asked, giving me a meaningful look.
We went to the bin of extras. Both of us bent over it, rummaging through to find a pair that fit him.
“Who’s tailing you?” he asked, his mouth barely moving.
“Aguda. He had pictures of us, last time you were here. Tried to get Simon to turn on me.”
“Aguda’s dead.”
I froze.
“How about these?” Hopkins said, loud this time. I straightened.
He tried the gloves on.
“You sure?” I said, then louder, “Nope, too small.”
We went back to the bin.
“We think Ting did it.”
I almost laughed. Simon? Killing Rance Aguda? Simon was resourceful, smart, and dangerous. But to kill Aguda? He wasn’t dumb enough to try that. Aguda would be too well protected.
“How do you know?”
“That’s confidential.”
Of course it was.
“Was Simon in town this past week?”
I glanced at him. “No.”
“Where did he go?”
“No idea. Wouldn’t tell me.” If Simon really had been responsible for Aguda’s death, was it because of me? When I told him Aguda had someone tailing me, he promised to take care of it. Then he left town. Now Aguda was dead.
Hopkins tried on another pair of boxing gloves. “Doesn’t matter. We already know where he went, and the purpose of his trip.”
“Then why are you here?” What could he want from me now? If Simon really had killed Aguda, they’d arrest him. My problems would be over. I’d finally be free.
“Right now, we don’t have a case. Some of our evidence will get thrown out because of how we got it. Unlike Ting, we have to do things by the book.”
Snorting, I tightened the Velcro around his wrists. “If he really killed Aguda,” I said through tight lips, “then you should be thanking him.”
Hopkins held his gloves in position, ready to punch me in the face. “Not if he plans on taking over.”
During the next class, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Hopkins said. Simon’s thing had always been putting bad guys behind bars using any means necessary. Killing Aguda, taking over his operation, that was unlike him.
But he’d said himself how Aguda had wasted all he had built. Did Simon really want Aguda’s empire? Aguda’s boys wouldn’t transfer their loyalty to the person who’d killed their boss. It made no sense. If Simon had killed Aguda, it seemed to me that it was because he knew he’d never get anything on him to put him away. Simon had said he’d been working on it. Maybe he came up with nothing. Aguda had connections, and he’d weasel out of any jail sentence.
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