After a second, C and I both laugh. Anvil isn’t known for wise-cracking, which makes his timing even better.
“I don’t actually think he’s new to my bullshit. Seems like he’s been stalking me for a while, investigating and such. Even got leverage on my ex to use her against me.”
“Your ex what?” Anvil asks.
“Ex-girlfriend.”
“Who’s that?” ‘Vil’s expression looks as confused as C’s from earlier.
“Laurelyn Reilly,” C says.
“What? I thought she was a one-night stand from the poker game?”
“She was. Trick thinks he dated her in high school.”
I laugh at C’s line and the way he delivers it. C Crue’s giving the Coen brothers a run for their money, and that does buffer the impact of the weight that keeps slamming into me when I think about Laurel with Schager.
“Hmm. Well, the fed can’t be smart if he’s trying to use a woman against Trick. Let me guess. You were with this girl and got her to give you a blowjob in high school? One of the thousands you’ve had in the past ten years?”
“Actually, yeah.”
Anvil makes an ‘I rest my case’ gesture. He stands. “When you’re done with the movie, let’s play pool. I’m low on cash and don’t feel like hitting an ATM.”
“I’ve won the last three games.”
“Last three out of seven. I want my hundred bucks that’s in your wallet,” ‘Vil says, walking out.
Raising the remote, I glance at C. “That it?”
“You tell me.” C waits. He knows when it’s time to stop digging and when it’s not. That’s why he’s the leader.
“I think Schager introduced himself to Laurelyn because he thought she could get close to me. But he didn’t tell her that. And leading up to sending her into that poker game, which I know must have been an unapproved op, Schager was fucking her.”
“You’re right.” C scowls. “He’s a fucking douchebag.”
“He could’ve gotten her killed. I suspect he might’ve been stoned that night. Wonder what he would’ve told her parents then. He knows them. When they were together, she took him home to meet the folks. Fucking dick. You know, I haven’t hated anyone this much since Pauly Mangia used a kid as a punching bag.”
“Trick,” C says in a warning tone.
“And all the while he was doing Laurel, he was also doing surveillance on her little sister to trap her in a drug charge.”
“Know and can prove?”
“Know, but can’t prove. Ninety percent on the know.”
“Get up. Let’s go downstairs for a drink.”
Tossing the remote on the couch, I stand and follow him out.
When we hit the basement and the door’s closed behind us, C says, “Keep going.”
“After the FBI entraps the little sister, which I’m sure Laurel did not realize was by Schager’s design, Schager offers to make the charges against the sister go away if Laurel will go to a poker game wearing a wire. He tells her it’s a win-win-win, since C Crue’s trafficking underage girls. He’s got a random pic of some terrified twelve-year-olds to break her heart.”
“And your girl bought everything he was selling?” C snaps with a roll of his eyes.
“She’s got no experience in how to see things from different angles.” I drop onto the couch. “The FBI are the good guys. Good guys don’t do bad things to good people, C.”
“Course not. Go on.” C goes to the small freezer and cracks a tray of ice cubes into an ice bucket.
