BAKER (Devil's Disciples Book 1)(15)

I rubbed my hands together. “Eighty-six is good with me.”

Cash waved in Tito’s direction and then turned away. “Eighty-six is the same as a hundred. He just makes this shit up. This deal’s for sure. I’m telling you. We’re gonna be fucking rich.”

Tito pushed himself away from my desk and gave Cash a shitty look. “Nothing’s certain, so that gets me to ninety-eight. This place is in a strip mall off of Main Street, and Rainbow has a police force. So, the possibility exists that the town cop gets bored and drives past while I’m trying to kill the alarm and cut the power. Now, we’re at ninety-two. There’s six of us involved. The odds of--”

Cash turned around. “Why do you do you always do this in two percent increments? If you’re so fucking smart, why not one percent? Or a half? Or tenths. Yeah, why not tenths, Mister Brainiac?”

“No one can guess within one percent. A tenth is ludicrous. If I claimed to be able to, it’d be a lie. You’re the only one in the club who’s prone to tell lies.”

“Fuck you, Tito.”

Tito looked Cash up and down. “Truth stings, doesn’t it?”

Cash’s eyes thinned to slits. “What are you talking about?”

“Back in May. When you almost shot that girl in the bank and called it an accident. It was the most blatant lie I’ve ever heard.”

Cash huffed out a heavy sigh. “It was a fucking accident.”

Tito formed a gun with his fingers. “You had it pointed at her face the entire time she was gathering up the money. Miraculously, when it accidentally went off, you missed her. You can tell Baker whatever you want. I’m not interested in listening to your bullshit, Cash. It wasn’t an accident.”

Cash alternated glances between Tito and me. “When are we going to find something else to talk about?”

“It was a fifty-thousand-dollar mistake,” Tito said. “I made an extra ten grand because of your accident. I’ll be talking about it for a long time.”

“It was an accident, and it was eight months ago.” Cash looked at me. “What day is it?”

“Seventh, why?”

“No, not the day of the month. What day of the week? Is it Tuesday?”

“Monday,” I said.

He looked at Tito. “I’ll give you until Friday. Mention it after Friday, and you and me are gonna fuckin’ box.”

Despite Cash being as mean as a snake, if there was anyone who could challenge him and make it a worthwhile fight, it would be Tito. His family had taught Jiu-Jitsu for generations, and he was a master at it. I prayed that Tito mention it during the following week’s Wednesday meeting, just to see them in action.

“You and I,” Tito said, correcting Cash’s grammar.

“That’s right.” Oblivious of Tito’s correction, Cash raised his clenched fists. “The two of us.”

Unamused, Tito tilted his head toward me. “Looks like the town has three cops. One kid with an attitude, and two overweight fuckers in their mid-fifties. Kid appears to work nights. We’ll disable the generator, then cut the power and all communication at the same time. A cell phone jammer will make sure we don’t get a remote alarm.”

“How are we getting in?”

“The roof-mounted air conditioner weighs 560 pounds. It’ll take all of us to move it to the side. Then, we’ll go in through the ductwork.”

“Sounds like a hundred percent to me,” Cash said.

Tito glared. “Maybe you should disable the alarm, then.”

“Maybe I should. I’ve watched you do it enough. No big deal, really. A cell phone jammer, some wire cutters, and a little blind luck.”

Tito glanced at Cash and shook his head. “The place is lit up like a Christmas tree at night, so we’ll need a dozen battery-powered puck lights to make sure someone doesn’t notice the power’s off. If they do, they’ll call it in, and that cop will be there in a minute. My guess is he’s former military. Looks the part.”

The index and middle fingers of Tito’s right hand were crossed. He did it when he didn’t want to forget something he felt was important.

I nodded toward his hand. “What else?”

He uncrossed his fingers. “This Pat guy. He’s got good credit, but he owes eight hundred grand on a nine hundred-thousand-dollar house. He leases a Benz AMG C63, and his wife drives a leased Lexus LX. On paper, he lives off his credit. There’s no doubt he has money, but he doesn’t deposit it in the bank or buy anything short of lunch. When he goes, it’s not with his wife, either. It’s with some hot twenty-year-old.”

“Maybe his daughter?”

“I don’t know who it is, but it’s not his daughter.”

I grinned. “So, he’s getting some young pussy on the side, and he keeps his assets hidden? Might be planning on leave the wife, huh?”

“The math doesn’t add up, that’s for sure,” he said. “I’m guessing his assets are liquid. My bet is that he keeps everything in that shop. If he does that much volume in gold, we’ll need to drive on this one. It will be impossible to haul much weight out of there on our bikes.”

I looked at Cash. “This might be a damned fine job.”

He flipped his hair out of his eyes and grinned. “Told ya.”