Ash’s grip tightens around my back. It’s a credit to her that she doesn’t ask a single question. “I swear.”
“Grand. Off you go.”
When I release her, Ash picks up Sawyer’s tote. “Seesaw, do you feel like waffles because I—oh, hey!”
I follow her gaze and spot Trick’s approach. His hair’s brown, but otherwise we’re cut from the same cloth. Same build and facial features. Even a similar gait.
He wears a vintage padded leather jacket with fleece lining over a knit shirt and jeans. His brown hiking boots tell a story, if only to me, about where we’re headed when we leave the train station. Usually Trick wears trainers with jeans in a typical American fashion. Not today. So, once the girls are gone, he’ll be taking me to the woods. Here’s hoping we both emerge alive at the end of the meeting.
Oblivious to the serious mood, Ash launches herself at Trick, and he catches her in a hug. After, he looks her over with a wry smirk. “What the hell are you wearing, baby?”
She smirks back. “College clothes.”
“Yeah, right.”
Ash winks, still grinning. “Here, Scotty, meet my roommate.” She pulls Sauce’s sleeve to bring them together. “This is Sawyer.”
Sawyer extends a hand, and Trick shakes it.
For her, he’s got an easy smile. “Good to meet you.”
“You, too. Ash quotes you all the time, and I’ve started to as well. You’re a legend.”
That causes him to chuckle.
“Have you had breakfast, Scotty?” Ash asks. “There’s that great waffle place?—”
“Can’t this morning.” Trick takes out his wallet. “But you girls, go. Have fun.” He holds out a few hundred-dollar bills.
Ash puts her hands up in a “stop” gesture. “No. I have money.”
Ignoring this, Trick slides the cash into Ash’s coat pocket. “After breakfast, buy some real pants.”
Ash’s laughter bubbles out of her as she gives him a kiss on the cheek. “See ya.” Then, she waves at me and hooks an arm through Sawyer’s to tug her along.
Sawyer rolls her small case as she strolls away with Ash, but she looks back over her shoulder for a moment with concern. Maybe she senses the danger. I smile to put her at ease.
Once the girls disappear in the crowd, I drop the smile. Picking up the duffles, I follow Trick. There’s no conversation, not even small talk. Apparently, he’s not pleased about getting an unexpected emergency call from me and having to make the drive to Boston first thing in the morning.
Outside, I get into a black C Crue SUV with its bullet-proof windows. This is what serves as a company car for the successful crime syndicate these days.
Hip hop blares from the sound system when he drives out of the metropolitan area to a plot of land the organization owns.
In the woods, Trick parks on a dirt road that’s dusted with snow.
We venture about three hundred yards into the trees. Unlike when the bosses call a meeting, there’s no outdoor furniture, no fire pit, nothing.
Standing with his hands in his pockets, Trick says, “All right. I’m listening.”
“I killed a man in Connecticut. I need to use the Crue’s cleaner to deal with the body or I need to go back and do it myself.”
Trick’s expression turns as dark as I’ve ever seen it. “On whose authority, did you kill?”
“No one’s.” Silence stretches on. Finally, I add, “He was the pedophile who caused Jude’s death. And he tried to kill me and Sawyer. Also, he had pictures of your boys on his computer. Finn’s his favorite type. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, and looks just like Jude.”
“How the fuck would he have pictures of my kids?”
“I don’t know. Ash’s socials are private, and I don’t have any. But the pictures were from your mom’s birthday party, so someone must have shared them publicly.” I shrug. “I’m not sure when he got onto me. For all I know, he’s kept tabs for years. I’ll find out when I go through his files.” I touch the duffle with my foot. “Cloned all his devices.”