No one had ever lied when they said my uncle had a screw lose.
“I take it you’ve just come to check on my general health?” His smile was dazzling white. Overdoing it with the teeth whitener was something he also excelled at.
“If your general health is poor with a high chance of imminent death, then yeah, I have. Wouldn’t want you to suffer.” I gave him a smile back, one that was just as sincere as his.
“Shall we stop there with the pleasantries, Tommy, and you can tell me what you’ve come for. Though I think I can probably guess.” His expression changed from arrogant dickhead to disappointed dickhead, although you could only tell by the slight droop of his mouth.
“Ashley’s pissed off Lebedev again, and Damon Gallagher.” Lebedev was a not so nice family of Russians who liked to organise a bit of crime here and there. Gallagher was a small time dealer who was too small for my uncle to be that arsed about.
Colm sat back down. “Fucker. I told him not to get involved. We’ve got enough going on right now.” He looked up at me as if he’d just lost something precious.
I knew that look wouldn’t last.
“I know you’re setting up by yourself, Tommy. I respect that.” He didn’t. “But I need you to help on this.”
I shook my head. “Not getting involved, Colm. Gallagher has the Santa Gertrudis area. Ashley sending his people in hasn’t just ruffled fucking feathers, he’s fucking plucked them. I don’t want my name getting pissed on with this.”
My uncle stood back up. “You’re part of this family, Tomas. You’re involved whether you like it or not. People know you’re related to me – the people who matter do, anyway. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to help, this shit’s going to fall at your door. Where is Ashley?”
“I don’t know. No one’s seen him for three days. That’s the other reason I’m here.”
Colm moved from behind his desk. “Let’s go down to the bar.”
By bar, he meantBohemi, the bar straight off the beach that was invitation only. Colm had amassed an empire, inheriting a trade from his father – my grandfather – and growing it, mainly through actuallygrowing itor having it chemically produced.
Sales and distribution. The bars and hotels were great venues to keep the business legitimate. The clubs worked for distribution. Colm kept it quality and expensive to go along with it. That kept the trouble away, for the most part.
Ashley, my arsehole of a cousin, was trying to branch out. His father hadn’t been keeping a tight enough hold on his leash and now we had a missing family member. Not that I was crying on any pillows. I’d known he was missing for the last day or so. I hadn’t been in any rush to tell his father about it.
We took the long route throughEl Jove i Bellmainly so Colm could show off. Dimmed lights and darkened walls meant the sunset outside was the focus, the few fishing boats in sight bobbing up and down on the ocean. There were three yachts docked, one looked recognisable from last year, when I’d been running the place from the background.
Patrons wouldn’t know who I was. I didn’t dress in a suit or even a shirt and chinos. I’d looked like I worked here as maintenance staff and I’d been happy to keep it that way.
But I knew who they were. Some I noticed and then deleted their details from my mind, knowing they’d cause no issues, and I wouldn’t need them for future reference.
Others stuck.
Lara Kearney was one who stuck, because why wouldn’t she? She was island royalty, daughter of a socialite and rock star, and an influencer in her own right. We knew that an extra had to be given when she was there, more security, more tabs kept on who was trying to get close to her and her friends. Part of the appeal ofEl Jove i Bellwas everyone could be anyone, but the work it took to make that happen was huge. There were always the bottom feeders, trying to break in to take a piece of someone in the hope it would give them fame.
And sometimes famous people were stupid.
Sun loungers and parasols were thoughtfully positioned on the beach, scattered to make it appear sparse and exclusive. The beach bar was already in action, cocktails that I’d designed being mixed, champagne on ice. Bodies clothed in bikinis and swimwear milled around.
We walked across sand, saying nothing. Colm definitely had a screw lose, that was what made people afraid of him, but it had been a long time since he’d made me feel that way. I was family, his sister’s son, and he wasn’t going to do anything to ever hurt her.
His own son – that was a different matter, to an extent.
Bohemi’satmosphere tonight was relaxed and chilled. The deejay had some sweet beats going, enough tempo to make sure everyone was awake and moving, but nothing to suggest anything apart from a steady Wednesday evening.
We headed to a table just off the bar, one that was consistently reserved for Colm, just in case he wanted to head down here and view part of his empire. It was secluded, partitioned off by a line of tall plants, windows behind looking out onto the beach.
A couple of women looked over at us as we sat down, one I recognised from the year before. Her eyes lingered on Colm, undressing him.
He wouldn’t be interested. Never was unless he paid for it, because then he had complete control. A prostitute was a commodity. He owed them nothing except their fee and there was never going to be any demand for emotion.
“When’s the last time you saw Ashley?” He gestured to the waiter to bring us champagne.
I gestured for water.
