Long Way Home (Thunder Road #3)(96)

“Like that. Why don’t you take a seat? I’ve heard you’ve had a rough time with your knee.”

Yep, and it’ll hurt some more if I kick the crap out of him. “You know you’re going to hell, right?”

“Sure do. By the way, it’s not healthy to hold grudges.”

I drop into the seat and move my wrist so that the recording device is pointed in their direction. The office looks like any other office. It’s not formal and warm like my father’s, but it’s full of papers and stacks of folders and boxes. There are calendars on the wall and used coffee cups on the desk and many, many crumbs of something eaten hopefully recently.

“Sorry for the delay, I just finished paying an invoice and now I’ve got to finish this order. What type of fish do you like, Violet?” Skull asks while he keeps his eyes peeled to the screen. “Maybe we can stock it in your honor.”

“Personally, I like mine deep fried and with ketchup.”

They both laugh. I wasn’t lying.

“Don’t you have people who do this type of stuff? Order, pay invoices, launder money?”

Skull laughs hard enough that I earned myself a glance from him. “I have people who do things for me, but there are some things I like to do myself. Like with my fish.”

A click of a button and I gain his entire attention. “And Eli. He’s someone I don’t like leaving to other people to attend to. He’s hurt me and my family. So tell, do you have my account numbers?”





CHEVY

WAITING—NOT A VIRTUE. Feels a lot like having my balls slowly cut away from my body. The only solace I have is that the detective who sits in the chair next to me looks just as happy as I am to be left behind. His radio is on, and so far, it’s silent.

Violet went in and now we can do nothing other than wait for her to leave.

Waiting.

Damn, I hate that word.

Violet has at least two police tails in the area. I’m hoping there’s more. As expected, the Riot have people hanging out, too. Oz and Razor have made them. The police have figured out a few, not all of the Riot involved, but as long as everyone continues to play nice, we’ve decided to keep quiet. If we tell, the police will learn I’ve got two unknown people on Violet’s team.

In the police’s defense, the Riot aren’t wearing their cuts, but I’m disappointed. The Riot watching the store are big names and we know them by face and road name in order to stay safe. I’d think the police would have done their homework, especially with Violet’s life on the line.

My cell buzzes and I expect it to be another text from either Oz or Razor asking if I’ve heard anything. The two of them are sitting at an outside table at a restaurant a few doors down from the fish store.

It’s from Oz and it’s a pic of Razor. I grunt-laugh because the kid is wearing a baseball cap, a polo shirt with a collar and Dockers. He’s playing Halloween dress-up as a frat-boy preppie to throw off the Riot. Gotta admit, Razor looks like a stranger to me—except for the eyes.

Razor texts: Oz is wearing the same fucking thing. I’m saving my pics of him for blackmail later. I’m thinking he’s buying beers for the next six months.

Me: Sounds good to me. Anything on Vi?

Razor: Nothing

Fuck me.

Another buzz.

Oz: I think we got problems.

I sit up straighter and the detective looks up from his own cell and watches me like a hawk on a mouse.

Me: What?

Oz: Few minutes before Violet showed, we noticed a blond guy pull up and plant himself at the coffee shop. Problem is—he watches the world more than he’s reading his magazine and he’s watching intently.

Me: Making Violet’s tail is the problem?

Oz: No. The fact that the Riot are noticing him is the problem. They make him and Violet has major problems.

Razor: Riot on the move. Tell him to get the fuck out of there.

“Tell your guy at the coffee shop to get out of there now. The Riot think there’s something wrong with him.”

Detective doesn’t even blink as he talks into the radio. “Kurt, you need to move. You are on the verge of being compromised.”

Confirmation back and Razor texts me: Your guy is moving. Acting like he got a phone call and he’s all pissed off his Tinder date forgot their meeting at the coffee shop. Riot backing off. Smooth move by the police, but now Violet’s down a gun on her side.

If I was a weaker man, I’d be intimidated by the glare the detective’s giving me. Good thing I’m a McKinley, because I see that type of look daily.

Other people radio in that they now spot the new-to-them Riot players and confirm the Riot were questioning the guy at Starbucks.

“Tell me how you knew that,” Barlow demands.

“Oz and Razor are watching at the restaurant down the street. How about you tell me how you’re going to keep Violet safe now that we’re down a man.”

“Your friends being there are putting Violet in danger.”

“My friends just saved Violet and your cop. I’m going to ask one more time, how are you going to protect Violet now that you’ve lost a pair of eyes?”

Oz: I don’t like this. She’s been in there too long and some of the Riot are bugging out. Not all, but some. Do they have eyes on the back of this place?