Jimmy frowned, chewing on his lower lip. That was the same hotel where he and Cold had spent their first night together. He definitely wasn’t going to be staying there again.
Cold glanced up to Tamerlane, asking plainly, “Can you do it?”
“It’s busy, Boss,” Tamerlane replied dutifully, thinking it all over with a wrinkle in his brow. “We were already looking at a full security detail with feds. Now we got U.S. marshals and Luchesi assholes in the mix? It’s gonna be real busy, but yeah, I can do it.”
“What about a distraction?”
“Whatcha thinkin’?”
“Thirdsies,” Cold said with a small smile.
Tamerlane grinned wickedly. “Oh, yeah. That’d do it.”
“Oh, yeah,” Lorre agreed heartily. “That would definitely fucking do it.”
“Let’s go take a little walk by the pool,” Cold said, glancing at Jerry. “Stay here with Mr. Eastwick and Jimmy. We won’t be too long.”
Jimmy watched Cold leave with Lorre and Tamerlane, awkwardly finding himself staring at Charlie or whatever his name was. He got up, heading to the bar to make himself a drink. He fumbled around with the bottles and was startled when Jerry materialized at his side.
“Appletini,monsieur?” Jerry asked politely. “Please, allow me.”
“Oh! Sure! Thank you, Jerry.” Jimmy returned to his spot on the couch, looking at the empty fireplace and trying to avoid any eye contact with Charlie.
“I’m not going to arrest you, Mr. Poe,” Charlie soothed. “There’s no reason to be so nervous around me.”
“I have zero reason to trust you,” Jimmy accused. “I actually believed everything you told me!”
“The best lies start with a grain of truth,” Charlie replied gently. “I was not dishonest about my mum taking me to England when I was a child or about her bastard birth.”
“Who’s your grandfather then?” Jimmy demanded.
“William Carville,” Charlie replied without hesitation.
“Thanks, Jerry,” Jimmy said, accepting his appletini and taking a gulp. He was distracted enough that he didn’t think he had heard Charlie correctly. “Wait. William Carville. The Strassen Springs police chief?ThatWilliam Carville?”
“The very one,” Charlie said. “You may have also heard of my grandmother. Geraldine Peters, but people like to call her ‘Geemaw.’”
“Geemaw?” Jimmy was shocked, asking dubiously, “Geemaw, the one that used to be a gangster’s girlfriend? That Geemaw?”
“Indeed. Before she became attracted to men who broke the law, she was first infatuated with the men who enforced it. Had the misfortune to fall for one who was already married, as I told you before.” Charlie smiled when Jerry brought him a glass of whiskey. “Merci.”
“And that’s why you want to ruin your grandfather’s life? Because of what he did to Geemaw?”
“No, not quite.” Charlie knocked the drink back with a hiss. “He actually did right by Geemaw and my mother for a time. We lived very comfortably and didn’t want for anything. That is, until my mum needed a kidney.”
Jimmy’s heart dropped. “He wouldn’t give it to her?”
“No,” Charlie said, gazing down into his empty glass. “It would have outed his affair with Geemaw if he started giving away body parts to children that no one knew about. He refused. She died. And that’s when I started planning. I would find a way to hurt him and take away his family just as he took away mine. In his current position, there wasn’t much I could do to him. I knew that I would need help of a slightly more illicit nature.”
“You came to Cold,” Jimmy realized out loud.
“Geemaw referred me actually,” Charlie said with a fond smile. “My dear ol’ Grams still likes her gangsters and introduced us last year. I was hoping to offer my services during the Dickie White case, but that wasn’t necessary. I’m sure you already know all about that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jimmy fibbed.
“Just like a good mafia husband,” Charlie snorted, “although now I can see why Cold didn’t let you in on my big secret. You’re a shit liar, mate.”
“Fuck you,” Jimmy said with a scowl, flushing vividly.
