I was so tense that I thought I’d shatter if the tension ratcheted up any higher. My hand was on my gun and I was ready to pull at the slightest sign from Angelo.
“I think anyone who’s looking to get the jump on you is probably gonna end up headless himself,” Jack said. We came to a set of lights and Jack pulled up and waited, tapping a finger on the wheel, before turning around to look at me. “You sure are stressed there, Flynn. If you don’t want Xanax, maybe try some edibles while you’re in town. Plenty of dispensaries around.”
My teeth were clamped so tight I had to work my jaw open to speak. “Thanks for the tip, but I prefer to keep my head straight.”
“And off the platter,” he quipped. The lights changed and he drove off again. “Reason I’m being so nosy,” he said conversationally, “is because I wondered if the Morellis could use another man.”
He had Angelo’s interest now. “You’re looking to move out of LA?”
Jack gave a smile that looked more like a wince. “Let’s just say there are people who’d prefer it that way. Not everyone in the business here looks as kindly on our type as Don Castellani.” I did a double take at that. So much for my gaydar. Angelo, I noticed, did not seem surprised. “And eveninmy Family,” Jack went on, “I’m not what you’d call popular. I thought maybe you could put in a word for me with the Morellis.”
Angelo studied him for a while, and I wondered what he was thinking. As close as we were, Angelo was still inscrutable to me in many ways. Over his lifetime, he’d trained his beautiful face to stay blank, as mysterious and cool as the moon. “The work in New York is very different, Jacopo. As is the Family culture.”
Jack’s eyes creased with good humor. “Tell you the truth, that’s what I’d be looking for. Plus the Family here doesn’t feel much like a Family, even on its best days. Not anymore.”
Angelo shifted in his seat and in the side mirror I saw him staring out the window as he spoke. “The thing about having a Family,” he said, “is that you have to take the good with the bad. When a business says they’re like a family, theymeanit in a good way. But families can be dysfunctional. They can have their problems. Our Families too, Jacopo.”
“Yeah, well, right now I feel like the black sheep of mine,” Jack muttered. “I’ve felt that way a long time.”
“Then why didn’t you walk away when youstartedfeeling that way?” I broke in. He said nothing, so I pushed on. “You used to have status with the Castellanis. You don’t now. What happened?”
He was quiet for so long I thought I’d angered him, but when he replied it was with resignation. “What happened, Flynn, is that I did something dumb. I made a mistake and there were consequences to it. You ask why didn’t I leave? Because Ciro Castellani didn’t kill me where I stood, when he damn well should have. For a long time, I felt like I owed him for that, and I wanted to live up to the vows I made. And also…” He gave a bitter smile to me in the rearview. “I guess one day I hoped to make up for what I did.”
I wanted to press more; if nothing else, this conversation had been revealing about Jack’s psychology. I understood a man sticking to his vows. Angelo had been the same. Still was.
It was admirable, in some ways. Loyal.
But dangerous, too.
Before I could ask another question, Jack pointed ahead. “Port’s coming up. Then we gotta make it onto the shipping docks,” he said briefly. “Guards everywhere, not to mention the Bernardis. So eyes bright, gentlemen.”
Chapter Eleven
The Port of Los Angeles is one of the busiest in the country, even at night, but Jack knew his way around. He pulled up in a quiet car lot, and pointed toward the area where Greco’s friends were planning to pick him up. “It’s one of the quieter areas,” he said, as we all got out of the car. “But we’ll need to get there by foot.” He pointed. “Down in there, according to the intel. There’s a hole in the security fence that the Bernardis like to keep open. Greco’s gonna be loaded on in one of the containers. Ship’s name is theAndalusia.”
He began walking, but Angelo reached out to pull him back gently. “Nothing personal, Jacopo, but Bax and I work better as a team of two.”
Jack’s head went back. “So that’s the way it is, huh?”
“Like I said, nothing personal. You’re my wheel man, so I need you here, ready to burn if things go sideways. Understand?” Jack didn’t like it; that much was clear. His face set into a scowl, until Angelo added, “You asked about the Morellis. My men there knew how to take orders. Show me you can, too, and I’ll put in a word for you.”
I was surprised to see it actually working. Jack’s shoulders went back and he gave a determined nod. “I’ll be right here waiting for you, Mr. Messina.”
With that, Angelo and I walked toward the port. We found the hole cut into the security fencing without any issues, and then slipped into the shadows cast by waiting shipping containers and cargo trucks. I tried to recall everything Angelo had taught me: how to move silently, fast but not careless, how to get where I needed to go without alerting anyone around.
The docks here weren’t deserted; there were multiple people around in fluorescent jackets, including night guards, truckers, and dock staff loading and unloading containers with giant cranes.
“That’s her,” Angelo murmured, nodding at one of the smaller ships. The name was clearly printed on the side:Andalusia. “No activity.”
I understood what he meant: either she was already loaded and ready to go, in which case Greco was already on board and our chances of nabbing him were slim-to-none…or they hadn’t started loading her yet. Based on where the crane was situated, and the ship still moored in front of theAndalusia, we seemed to have the advantage.
My heart lifted.
Angelo made a hand signal to me, and we backed off, retreating to the shadows, and started to pick our way among the labyrinthine path made by the shipping containers waiting on the dock near theAndalusia. But even if Greco were in any of them, I had no idea how we would find him. There were too many and we were running out of time. The dock crew had just finished loading the ship in front of theAndalusia.
And then I saw it: a trail of blood. A long smear of rusty red along the side of a container, picked up again on the next, and the next…
I followed it to its natural end, where one particular shipping container had many more streaks of red coming from it—or going into it. And when I looked closer, the door of the container was slightly ajar, with blood on the handle.
