I was too fucked up to think. "I don't know. I'd peg her for a cop before a mole."
The old man pulled a picture out of his pocket, holding it out for me to see. Markie sat beside a silver-haired older man, probably about father's age. Mouth open, hands gesturing, he appeared to be talking, and Markie's eyes were red and pooling with tears.
"That's Adamo Pelino right there," Father said. "Bastard looks old, and he's lost some weight, but that's him."
I took the picture from him, studying it, memorizing the face of the man who'd crippled Uncle Michael. "How did you get this?"
"Bones ran a background check on her, and I was curious as to why. Had Tech keep an eye on her. This picture was taken the day before you left for San Diego."
That surprised me. "You knew Markie could be dirty and you let us take her to the coast?"
He nodded. "If the two of you can't handle one woman, you deserve whatever she does to you."
He had a point there. Only Markie had done more damage than I would have ever imagined possible. The old man couldn't see it, but it was there.
"You're gonna have to bring her in," he said. "I'm gonna need to question her."
I nodded. "Yessir."
"First I need you two to have a come to Jesus meeting with Dante. Your brother's been shackin' up with some stripper and must have lost his fuckin' mind. Slackin' on his duties and layin' around in bed like some school kid bonin' his first crush. Set him straight and remind him who he is. Tech will send you the details."
And with that, we were released to go find my brother and bring in Markie.
***
For Dante's sixteenth birthday, our parents had bought him a shiny red BMW, tricked out with more horsepower than his now nineteen-year-old self knew what to do with. The Bimmer had a system like mine which kept him connected to Tech, and allowed our technical overlord to send me Dante's exact location and the details of his most recent screwup.
Bones and I navigated to the Bimmer, parked on West Baltimore Avenue in front of a rundown two-story apartment building. I idled behind my brother's car and checked out the area. The few working streetlights didn't show me much. A chest-high chain-link fence surrounded the building, and a sign on the gate warned of security camera monitoring. Across the street lay a vacant field, cloaked in darkness. A dented old truck parked in front of Dante's Bimmer was up on a jack and missing a back tire.
I put the Hummer in park, killed the engine, and dialed Dante's cell. No answer. I hung up and called again. Still no answer. On the third call, Dante picked up sounding frustrated and out of breath.
"Yeah?" he asked.
"What, no hello? No 'how was your trip'? I'm hurt, little bro."
"Kinda busy right now. Can I call you back in a bit?"
"Nope. In fact, I'm going to need you to come outside. We got shit to discuss."
Bones and I climbed out of the Hummer and leaned against it, watching the apartment building.
A mini-blind flickered in the window of the upstairs center unit. Dante swore. "You're here? Why?"
Some girl in the background asked what was going on.
"Is that a girl?" I gasped in mock outrage. "You bonin' a broad up there? Is that why you're too busy to answer my calls?"
"Come on, Angel, stop screwin' around. You know how it is."
"Sounds like you're the one screwin' around."
My frustrated little brother was flexing his independence by shirking his duties and spending the night at his girlfriend's place. Too bad he hadn't yet realized his independence was a high-interest loan he couldn't afford, and Father had sent me to repossess his ass.
"You want us to come up there and drag you down with your pants around your ankles?" I asked.
"Don't be a dick, Angel."
"Don't make me. Get your ass down here. Now." I glanced at my watch. "You have one minute."
