Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Doesn’t sound like an offer to me,” I say. Juan is the third name on my list, so at least now this makes sense. “Where does she live?”
He rattles off an address that’s three blocks away. “She ain’t going anywhere, man. She lives here. Reyes makes sure she has enough money to live and feed that kid, but she’ll never get out of here. Like I said, she should’ve taken Juan’s offer.”
“Where is Juan?” I ask nicely.
Miguel’s eyes look up, cloudy and brown, the bloody one looking darker than the other one. “Why?”
“He’s third on my list,” I admit.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. No. If you and I are going to split the money, part of the deal is Juan lives.”
Interesting. Loyalty among assholes. “Why?”
“Because he’s the man. I’ll take you to a party on seventh so you can meet him tonight. Now that Paco’s dead, Juan will take over. He’s got some great ideas, and he’s always been our best bitch trafficker.”
Yet another reason I’m going to kill Juan. It occurs to me that the man I’m killing them for is probably worse than the three of them put together, but right now he’s safely in prison, and I don’t have to worry about him.
“You’ve been pretty helpful, Miguel. Thanks.” He’s bleeding out, and I wonder how much time he has left. He isn’t noticing that he’s losing blood faster than he can make it. The guy’s not the brightest.
He’s bald with even more tattoos across his skull. There’s actually one of a skull with the word hell spelled with three l’s beneath it.
I make sure there isn’t too much blood on my jeans. There’s a fair amount, damn it. “Tell me about Howard Fissure.”
Miguel blinks. “Fissure? Why? What do you want to know about him?” He pales beneath his brown skin. “Oh God, Reyes knows about Fissure?”
“Yep,” I say. “Who is he?”
“He’s the owner of Nero Tech. It’s some startup that has to do with the web.” Miguel hangs his head. “Is there anything that Reyes doesn’t know?”
“Probably not,” I say agreeably, wiping off the knife on a clean spot on his jeans. He works to loosen the ropes behind his back, but I know how to tie a rope.
He gulps. “Shit. No wonder Reyes wants us dead.”
I’m getting a little bored. I hear something, and I lift my head. It’s thunder in the distance. “Tell me about Howard Fissure.”
“Fentanyl,” Miguel says quickly. “He can get great quantities of it through connections he has in China. We arrange to transfer it over the border, and suddenly it’s here.”
I assume Reyes is more pissed they’ve cut him out of a deal than that they’re bringing poison into the country. “You split the profits?”
“Seventy-thirty.” Miguel’s lip curls up in a sneer. “I want to change that, but it’s the best Paco could do.”
“I see. Does Howard Fissure have a family?”
Miguel screws up his face, appearing as if thinking hurts him. “Um, ex-wife, maybe two. I don’t know. We don’t go to barbecues together, man. It’s a business arrangement.”
“An arrangement you made without Urbano Reyes knowing?”
“Obviously,” Miguel says.
Oh good, he is getting some of his spirit back. “Where’s the money?” I ask.
He looks up. “I ain’t telling you that until I’m free.”
“Where’s the money?” I ask again.
“I’m not telling you.” I stab him in the shoulder and tear down. He cries out with the most high-pitched sound he’s made. He must have an old shoulder injury. The knife didn’t go through as easily as it should have. Scar tissue impedes blades.
Bloody tears flow down his face. “Fine, fine. It’s upstairs beneath a board in the second bedroom.”
“That wasn’t that hard, was it?” I ask him. He doesn’t answer and instead tries to sniff a snot bubble up his nose. It occurs to me how much that would annoy Rosalie. Well, she probably wouldn’t like the blood either. “Now, tell me about Ella Rendale,” I suggest.
Miguel blinks. “Ella Rendale? From the society pages?”
“Yeah. Why would Reyes want her dead?”
Miguel sits back, his eyebrows rising. One of them is heavily scarred. “Dude, I have no idea. We don’t have anything to do with the society page. Reyes must have a contract I don’t know about.”
Most entirely possible. “You better not be lying to me.” I lift the knife.
“I’m not. I’m not,” he says quickly. “I promise. I don’t know anything about Ella Rendale.”
Probably truthful. He did give me the information on Howard Fissure pretty easily. “So Juan Gomez?” I ask. “Why are you two so tight?”
“He saved my life more than once,” Miguel says. “I’ll split the money upstairs with you, but you have to leave Juan alone. We need someone to lead since Paco’s dead, and Reyes ain’t getting out of prison anytime soon.”
“Fair enough.” I walk behind him and reach down for the ropes tying his wrists together. His shoulders relax. In that split second, I lean around him and slice his jugular. Blood spurts across the room, and he jerks several times, finally going limp in death. I manage to keep most of the blood off of me, and the cheap gloves I wear will be easy to burn. I wipe the knife off again on him and then stab it into the ground next to his foot. It was his knife, so he should keep it.