“Who exactly are we questioning and why?” Felix asked, tugging their mother’s threadbare cardigan around himself dramatically like some girl in a movie gazing moodily at the ocean.
Jericho sighed internally. “Mercy wasn’t the only body to turn up missing organs.”
“That’s not exactly surprising in this neighborhood, is it?” Lake asked. “The crews around here drop bodies on the regular. That’s why we’re still in business.”
“Yeah, but how many of those bodies are missing internal organs?” Atticus asked.
Lake shrugged. “Not many, I guess. So, you want us to ask about the people with no organs? Who were they?”
“There was no ID on the bodies,” Atticus supplied.
Jericho nodded. “Yeah, what he said. We don’t have any names to go on but one, and it’s probably best if you keep that name out of the conversation if you want anybody to talk to you.” Jericho didn’t supply them with Carlos’s name. He didn’t want them inadvertently tipping this guy off and getting hurt. “I want you to head down to 6th and Broadway—”
“Skid row?” Felix asked, surprised.
“Yeah. These people we’re looking for probably won’t watch the tent cities as closely as they would the working girls and the addicts,” Jericho said. “Be discreet. Offer money if you have to. But just be…cautious.”
“What exactly are we asking about? If they overheard anybody talking about harvesting organs?” Felix asked, his annoyance obvious.
Atticus spoke up then. “We’re looking for people who disguise themselves as helpers. Bryan mentioned crosses.”
“Crosses? Helpers? Man, the church has a million different people out there every weekend trying to buy their way into heaven by pretending they give a shit about the homeless. They’re every church’s pet project,” Seven muttered.
It was true. Without fail, each Saturday a group of people from one church or another would be out there passing out sandwiches or blankets or socks. It wouldn’t seem so fake if they weren’t stopping to take selfies of each one of their good deeds and posting them with captions like #blessed. It was so disingenuous. But that brought up a good point.
“These people won’t be your average Sunday morning repenters. Look for the people who are always out there. People who are a little too involved,” Atticus said.
Felix flicked his gaze to Atticus like a cat flicking its tail in irritation. “Do we take orders from him now?”
“You take orders from me and he’s an extension of me. This isn’t about him, it’s about our sister. Mercy. Remember her?”
“Yeah, I remember her. I was planning her funeral while you were banging your new boyfriend,” Felix snarked, wrapping his arms tighter around himself as he sulked.
Jericho ignored Felix’s tantrum. “Check the shelters, the methadone clinics. But again…discreetly. We’re not looking to get anybody hurt. If you find somebody who’s willing to talk, you come find me. I want to question them myself.”
“Should we tell the others?” Lake questioned.
“Yeah, I want as many people on this as possible. But I cannot stress this enough, be subtle. According to our recently deceased friend, Bryan, whoever these people are, they have no problem eliminating anybody who could point a finger in their direction. We’re not looking to get anybody hurt. We just need to find out who’s out there in these people’s ears.”
“What are you going to be doing?” Felix asked.
“Excuse me?” Jericho countered.
“While we’re out there risking our lives in tent city, what exactly is it you’ll be doing? Is there a ball? Some gala? Some super pressing dinner party you just simply must attend?” Felix sneered.
Jericho could have told him the truth, but it didn’t matter what he’d be doing. Felix knew better than to question him, especially in front of the others. This only worked as long as he had their trust. “You got a problem with the way I run things, little brother? If you got something to say, just say it.”
The fury and hurt in Felix’s eyes was obvious, but Jericho wasn’t going to let him talk to him like that.
Lake set a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “Let’s just go and do our jobs.”
Felix continued to give Jericho a hard stare for another thirty seconds before finally tearing his gaze away. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
When Arsen and Levi were back up front and the others had gone, Atticus turned to face Jericho. “Yeah, your brother hates me as much as my brothers do.”
“That’s not true. Felix… He just doesn’t do well with change. I’m all he has left, and whenever he feels threatened, he reacts…sometimes violently. He’s afraid you’ll take me away from him.”
“I-I wouldn’t do that,” Atticus said. “Family is important. Even families like mine. As much as my brothers dislike me, they need me.” Atticus shrugged. “And I need them,” he admitted.
