The Family Business 3 (The Family Business #3)(32)

“Orlando, but he’s more of a businessman than a gangster. He runs Duncan Motors, but he’s not afraid to get dirty if that’s what the situation calls for. The youngest son, Rio, is a straight up homo, but he stays strapped too. There’s also a son-in-law, Harris. He’s the family attorney, and he knows his shit. He’s basically in charge of cleaning up their money and keeping them out of jail. Then there’s the girls—”

“I don’t want to hear about any useless women,” I told him dismissively. He smirked at me and shut up.

“So, what’s your detail? What do you do for the Duncans?” He was so busy watching me stroke my pets that it appeared he didn’t even hear me. “Hello? What is your normal detail?”

“I’m in charge of one of the warehouses. I work for Kennedy, the guy y’all killed.”

“One of the warehouses? How many do they have?”

“I don’t know. Depends on the product. The one I work at houses weed. But I’m sure there are others that house different contraband. They got them all over the country, but I only know that the one I work at just got a shipment.” He had finally gotten my attention again.

I peppered this snitch with questions until I was convinced that I knew everything he knew, and that was just enough to help us make our next move.

I pulled Elijah aside to talk to him. “Interesting. Very f*ckin’ interesting. It would seem that Bernie may have been right. Taking out LC Duncan is the key to destroying the Duncans from within.”

“One thing I still don’t understand,” Elijah commented. “With LC Duncan dead and the Duncans crippled, what does the Jew get out of all of this?”

“I don’t know. You’d think the way they have their fingers in everything that they’d lose money if the Duncans went under.” I dropped Lenny and Squiggy to the floor to let them run around. After all, they’d done a great job.

“Fuck!” Lincoln yelled, kicking Lenny across the room.

I raced over and grabbed him by the throat. “You kicked him?”

“I should have stomped his ass. It bit me. I hate rats.”

“Do you have any idea how much I love those rats?” I screamed. “After my wife, they are everything to me. Everything!” I grabbed my blade and drove it into his heart. Lincoln’s head slumped onto his chest, and I looked up at Elijah. “Now that that’s done, let’s go kill some Duncans.”





LC





20


“Gentlemen, you’ve given us a lot to think about. We’ll be in touch.” Orlando and I rose, shaking hands with Popeye Wilson and Tony Williams, two of the most powerful black gangsters in the world. Popeye, a short and stout, well-dressed man, ran his operations out of Washington, D.C., and Tony was a skinny-as-a-rail know-it-all from Atlanta. We’d distributed narcotics to both of their organizations for years, which technically made them beholden to us, but with everything going on with Brother X, they were suggesting a merger, so to speak. Our recent problems were putting us in a precarious situation, as far as the power structure was concerned. People who were once reliant on us were now looking to become partners.

“Well, LC, you know we’re here for you if you need us,” Popeye said.

“Yeah, man. We Blacks need to stick together like the Koreans, the Italians, and the Jews,” Tony commented as they headed out the door.

“I know we need soldiers, Pop,” Orlando’s voiced under his breath as we watched them leave, “but are we really going to do this?”

“It’s something to consider. Besides, it’s better than the offer we got this afternoon, don’t you think?” Truthfully, it was starting to look like we didn’t have a whole lot of options. At least none that I liked.

“I don’t know, Pop. I’m afraid that if we let them in, we’re never going to get them out.” Orlando’s tone was serious. He’d been that way ever since he was a kid, always thinking things through and imagining every possible outcome. It was the reason I had chosen him to take over the family business when I retired—if I ever got the chance. It seemed every time I thought things were falling back into place, another crisis hit the family and I was forced to delay my plans. Still, I appreciated Orlando working side by side with me through it all.

“You know as well as I do that Popeye and Tony will sell us down the river first chance they get.”

“I know that, Orlando, but blood has already been spilled on both sides. With Junior MIA and Kennedy dead, we’re going to need all the help we can get. Those men have small armies—armies we may need to use to take X and his people out.”

“Maybe, but I’m starting to think that the offer we got this afternoon might be the way to go. It’s a win-win for us all.”

“Everything that glitters isn’t gold, Orlando,” I replied, pulling a crisp Cohiba cigar from my breast pocket. “Let’s just hope Vegas has good news.”

“Okay, if you say so, Pop.” I patted him on the back.

“Look I’m gonna step out back and smoke this stogie.” I ran the cigar across my nose, inhaling the scent. “And don’t tell your mother I was smoking.” I loved my wife, but the older we got, the more she started to act like my mother. That was the reason I only smoked after hours at the dealership, when no one else was around.