"Of course." I approach and shake his hand, his callouses rubbing against mine. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on."
Dom points to a chair. "Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?"
"I can get it." I grab his empty glass on the way. "Refill?"
He nods stiffly and settles into his seat. "Thanks."
I make quick work at the liquor station on the far side of the room, pouring us both a hefty three fingers of Hawk's Mark, and return to where Dom and Coen are sitting. I slide his glass to him and take a sip of mine as I sit, too.
Dom shoots a look at Coen, and for a split second I wonder if they've somehow learned telepathy, because a second later, Coen opens his pretty-boy mouth.
"We lost another shipment today," Coen tells me.
"Which one?"
"The guns."
"The decoy or the actual shipment?" I hold my breath in anticipation of the answer I'm already sure is coming.
"We wouldn't have called a meeting over the decoy." Coen's jaw clenches and he adds, "We have a mole."
I lean forward, circle my glass, and swallow some of the golden liquid down. It's smooth and everything you would expect from a wickedly expensive bourbon. "I think we have another problem, too," I admit to them.
Coen is the first to speak up. "What kind of a problem?"
Dominic twirls his glass and waits for me to answer.
"Ricardo." I glance between them.
"What about him?" Dominic asks.
"He stopped me on the way in here. He knew about our meeting. He claims he knows about ourproblem. He offered to help."
Coen chuckles dryly. "At what cost?"
"Exactly," I reply. "But that's my point. He's aware of our business and offering to help in exchange for money. It wouldn't surprise me if he's the one creating the issues and turning around and lending a hand to benefit from them. How else would he know?"
Dominic sighs and rubs his greying beard. "I hate that guy."
"You and everyone else in this town," I confirm.
"He has everything to gain from it. Word is that his little empire is crumbling and he's desperate for an influx of cash. He's tried to sell me his daughter on numerous occasions." I take another drink of my bourbon and let it soothe my raging nerves. I still haven't heard from Cora and the clock is ticking on how long I'm going to give her before I storm out of here and go looking for her.
"He asked me, too," Dominic tells us. "Well, he more so was inquiring about leads on who would want her and how much to ask for, but he joked that he was willing to cut me a deal since I already had a woman."
My skin crawls at just how disgusting of a human he is. I can't believe his daughter hasn't smothered him with a pillow in his sleep just to get away from the fucker. But I'm no fool to understand a man like that has the means to crawl his way out of a grave and get revenge.
"What did you tell him?" I ask Dominic.
"All but that he was fucking crazy." Dominic swallows a heavy swig of his bourbon. "He's trying to get five hundred million out of her."
"If the money weren't going into his pocket, I'd do it just to get him to shut up and go away." Although I'm not stupid enough to realize funding him would only make him that much more annoying. "So, what are we going to do?"
Coen leans forward. "Without proof, no one is going to believe us, so it won't justify making a move on him. The first step is we need to find the mole and get him to talk. Maybe then we'll have the leverage we need, but until then, we have to continue with business as usual."
"You don't think we should halt deliveries?" I consider what that would mean for business, and even delaying a day would be detrimental, but so is hemorrhaging our funds because of lost shipments.
"We've had to deal with this before," Dominic says. "We got through it then, and we'll get through it now."
