Crush(51)

“Who was the supplier?” I asked again.

He laughed, but this time he answered. “Come on, you have to know. The Priest.”

“What’s his f*cking real name?” I demanded.

He shook his head. “I don’t f*cking know.”

Doubtful, I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he feeding me a bunch of bullshit? Maybe. Still, I didn’t stop him. I wanted to hear what he had to say. ”Go on.”

“One morning when I was about to make my biggest buy yet she shows up. Said she couldn’t stay in that house one more minute. I was in a hurry. She had parked behind me. We took the Mercedes and the five mil and went to make the buy.”

Five mil. The missing money. It was beginning to make sense. “But,” I interjected.

“The shit storm that followed is still a blur. The exchange went off without a hitch. On the way back to my place, I was out of cigarettes and asked her to stop at a corner store. When I went inside, she f*cking took off with the drugs and left me there.”

Doubt coated my brow. “Let me get this straight—she stole two hundred fifty kilos of cocaine from you?”

“She called me as soon as she took off. Told me she was going home to get that kid and then it was time for us to leave town.”

“So she blackmailed you?”

“No, she’d just had enough of that husband of hers.”

“Why not just leave the guy?”

“Come on, she had a record. She was a drug addict and a prostitute. She knew no court would award her custody of that kid and for some reason she wasn’t willing to leave her behind. Her only option was to run.”

I shook my head. “Okay, so then what happened?”

“Then she never showed up.”

“Why?”

“Because the f*cker hijacked the drugs.”

“And what happened to Lizzy?”

“The Priest took her.”

“Took her?” She’d been taken? Hadn’t she disappeared on her own? That I wasn’t buying.

“Aren’t you listening to me? O’Shea sabotaged the whole f*cking thing. He took the drugs and arranged for her to disappear.”

Surprisingly, the events were making more and more sense. Patrick was demanding both the money and drugs as retribution, which I always found odd. How could both disappear? Obviously, just the drugs had been stolen. Oddly, I got the feeling Tommy wasn’t feeding me a complete line of bullshit except for one thing—I’d seen Tommy with Lizzy, and recently. I kept that to myself. “So what happened next?”

“I went to the Priest, told him what had happened. Hoped he’d help me, and instead he laughed in my face.”

“Not a surprise I suppose.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at me.

“What did you do next?”

“I sat on it for a while, waiting to see if Lizzy showed up.”

“So you weren’t sure she’d actually been taken then?”

He looked annoyed. “She had been taken. I just didn’t know it at the time. I found out later what had actually happened to her after she escaped.”

I still wasn’t buying it. “Okay, so you sat on it. Then what?”

“When I couldn’t take it anymore, I told my old man what I could without cutting my own dick off. I knew once he found that the money used was his, he’d make something happen. But he f*cking sat on it forever.”

“Why did he wait?”

“How the hell would I know?”

“Maybe because he wanted to see you squirm?” I taunted.

“Fuck you. He told me it was because he wanted me to handle it, but more than likely it was because he was afraid of stepping on the wrong toes.”

Skeptical, I raised a brow. “Whose wrong toes?”

“Like I said, you don’t have a f*cking clue.”

“Then enlighten me. You want my help. Tell me.”

Hatred seethed from his pores. I could practically smell it. “He took his time deciding because he was afraid of starting a war. Word on the street was that his old gang, the Dorchester Heights Gang, was reassembling, and that they were about to step up their game. He was afraid if he got involved in the drug side of things, they’d have reason to go after the Blue Hill Gang.”

Anger rising at his lies, I shouted, “The Dorchester Heights Gang has been out of play for years. Stop bullshitting me.”

“You, your old man, and even the DEA are in the f*cking dark. They’ve been gearing up for years and they’re about ready to reemerge bigger and better than they ever were. Probably even stronger than the Blue Hill Gang ever was, even in your grandfather’s day. Rumor has it they have political ties.”

“How the f*ck would you know that?”

“Have you not been listening to a goddamn word I’ve told you?”

My mind spun. “The Priest is the mob boss of the Dorchester Heights Gang?”

He gave a huff of laughter. “You’re a smart one.”

Made sense that Patrick would be fearful. Drugs were the most lucrative venue for mob business, and being in that business would put a huge bulls-eye on his back. “And you’re trying to tell me you were involved with them. Why would they want you?”

His expression became pure hostility. “Because I’m an asset.”