Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
I visit Benny at the swanky inpatient rehab. He’s in good spirits but he looks like he lost about thirty pounds and his skin looks ashy and pale. I hear that he’s making good progress, but it’ll be a few weeks before he’s cleared to work. I make sure he knows he’s irreplaceable but that he can retire with full pension and my gratitude if he wants to. Good old Benny at least resists this idea and says he’ll be fit as a fiddle in no time, that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he retired. He puts in another good word for his nephew and I act like I respect that suggestion.
Rory calls while I’m leaving rehab to tell me the bad news.
“You’re gonna want to sit down.”
“I’m in the car. I’m sitting down. Just tell me.”
“They found a kid outside the Oyster, in back by the dumpster.”
“Shit. What happened?”
“OD. So far all we know is he was sixteen, from Southie, and his girlfriend says he scores pills there all the time.”
“Jesus. Somebody’s dealing behind the Oyster and our security didn’t clock it? I want every team member in a meeting in half an hour.”
“I’m a step ahead of you, Mick. We’re gonna be waiting in the conference room when you get here. I’ve debriefed the guys and I’m gonna send you the info.”
“Thanks,” I tell him. Before I open the voice memo he sends me I know what it’ll say. Somebody isn’t dealing behind the Oyster. They’re dealing from the Oyster. An inside job. That’s why security isn’t seeing a bunch of shady exchanges on their rounds or the cameras. Because it’s one of mine, someone that knows the workings of the joint and how to capitalize on the location and avoid detection. I crack my knuckles in anticipation.
The room is full when I walk in, standing room only. The beefy bouncers are what you’d expect, but half my team is plainclothes, lots of them are women, average size, and dressed to appear unremarkable. The best kind of security to have is the kind that blends in. Right now, I wonder which ones of them know who’s behind this, and if the drug ring begins and ends with my own men. Or if the Oyster is just one location on their route.
I give them the lowdown to start with and inform them that I respect their loyalty to everyone in our ranks but that I am a far more dangerous enemy than a drug dealer and they would do well to provide Rory or myself with any information that leads to the uncovering of all members of the drug ring, and intel will be rewarded. I meet with Rory in my office afterward.
“What’s your read?” I ask.
“Castleton was shitting bricks in there. I want ten minutes with him in the basement.”
“You gonna try and talk to him?”
“Talk?” he scoffs. “Yeah. Talk.” His tone is sarcastic.
“If he knows something, find out. Don’t warn him. Just take him for a walk.”
“Will do. You okay? You been lookin’ tired the last week or so.”
“Thanks, bro. You look like shit, too,” I deadpan. I know why I look like hell but I’m not gonna tell him his baby sister walked out on me.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll let you know what Castleton says.”
“Thanks,” I say.
Then I do what I’ve been avoiding. I call Katie.
“There’s been an incident. We need to meet,” I say, my tone clipped and cool.
“When?”
“Twenty minutes. Crow’s nest.”
“Fine.”
She hangs up and I get a car to the Pearl. I’m waiting when she arrives all buttoned up and neatly pressed, that riot of hair tamed into a ponytail. It’s a physical blow to my chest to see her. She puts her laptop down and take a seat.
“Was there an incident?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Why would you think there wasn’t?”
“It’s Wednesday, Mick,” she says. The way she says my name undoes me. God, I miss her. The sick swoop in my gut of loneliness, the way I feel her say my name in my teeth, in my bones. Her eyes flick to mine and for an instant I see it like a mirror. She let her cover slip and I saw that she’s hurting too. It’s all I need. I take her hand. She shuts her eyes and I watch her throat work as she swallows hard, squeezes my hand. She rolls her lips under and her shoulders sag for an instant.
“It wasn’t to buy you off or make you shut up,” I say out of nowhere like my brain is hijacked. “The necklace was because I wanted to give you something nice, that you’d like. It had you written all over it. It’s in the drawer.”
“What?”
“You got a drawer at my house, in my dresser. I had it ready to surprise you that night, when you came home with me. When I thought you would come back home with me. There’s pajamas and—” I stop myself. My pride finally kicks in.