At least as far as the NOPD was concerned. But not for Roland Malone.
After overseeing the restaurant’s closing, he had retreated to his office, and, because the events of the night required something stronger than red wine, he poured three fingers of scotch.
He thought about saying the rosary, but decided to wait until all the employees had gone. He didn’t want to be interrupted, at least not until after he’d said the Fatima prayer.
When he’d returned from his talk with the police, he’d noticed that Dylan’s hired car was gone. He called her now, got no answer, and left an apology for abandoning her on the sidewalk. “A big to-do was made over nothing. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
His conversation with her tonight had dispelled any reservations he had about her trustworthiness. She was solid. She was committed to her profession. Hell, she thought of it as a calling. Therefore, it was highly unlikely she would ever break her vow of confidentiality to a washed-up cop. On that score, he had nothing to worry about.
Oz was another matter. He had to be told about tonight’s incident, and he wouldn’t be happy. Not when he was focused on those three trucks with a huge stolen payload having to cross Texas and Louisiana without incident.
Roland decided to hold off on that conversation until after he’d finished his drink and had time to mull over exactly what he was going to say. He’d have to grovel a bit, because it was he who’d recommended using El Paso.
And speaking of, he would have to track El Paso down.When he found him, he would make him an example of what happened to someone within the organization who disobeyed a direct order.
He was relishing that thought when his cell dinged. It was his chef. “That new kid just came in through the kitchen door. Asked if you were still on the premises. Are you?”
Roland was stunned. He hadn’t expected El Paso ever to show his face again. Should he let the little shit sweat, unsure of how he was going to react and what his punishment might be? Maybe.
But Roland was curious to hear what he had to say, how he would account for his screwup. Besides, his coming here would save Roland the trouble of having to track him down.
“Send him back.” He set his highball glass aside and settled into his chair. When the awaited knock came, he said, “Get in here.”
As insolent as ever, El Paso sauntered in and had the gall to head straight for the chair facing Roland’s desk and flop down into it.
Without a blink or any other indication that he was about to erupt with rage, Roland stared at him for half a minute before speaking. “If you want to keep your balls attached, you will vacate that chair.”
With an attitude that needed drastic realignment, the kid gave an eye roll, placed his hands on the armrests, and pulled himself up.
Roland said, “You call that spectacle tonight low-key?”
El Paso bristled. “I don’t even get to tell my side?”
Roland envisioned wrapping his garrote around the kid’s neck. It was so scrawny, it wouldn’t take much pressure to kill him. But rather than act on the impulse, he turned his ring several times, then negligently motioned for El Paso to continue.
“I didn’t expect him to fight back. Ahead of time, I’d picked out the ones I was gonna mess with, the ones who’d likely be afraid of me and wouldn’t cause a scene.”
“Obviously you’re a bad judge of character.”
“Not the first two. I got nothing but sobs and pleading for me to leave them alone. I couldn’t find the third one I’d settled on, but I saw this guy in the median and watched him for almost an hour. In all that time he didn’t move. He wasn’t panhandling. Hadn’t talked to anybody. I thought he was asleep and would be easy. He was at first.
“But when I opened my knife, he sprang up and came at me fighting. That woman started screaming loud enough to wake the dead. I got in one swipe at him, then I got outta there.”
Roland stared at him, unmoved.
“I don’t know what you’re upset about,” the kid mumbled. “I didn’t get caught, did I?”
Roland stared harder. The prick was challenging him and his authority. “First of all,” Roland said without inflection, “you don’t get a ‘side.’ I tell you to do something, you do as you’re told. What I told you to do was scare a few of the homeless and keep itlow-key. Oz wanted it keptsimple.”
He motioned to his cell phone lying on his desk. “Now I gotta call him, tell him how we had police in the neighborhood, interviewing witnesses, talking to people. Are you seeing the problem now, genius? It drew attention. And this guy who came up fighting? We’ve got no idea who he was, where he went, or what he might do.”
“Do?” El Paso scoffed. “A bum like that? What’s he gonna do?”
“As we speak, he may be talking to the cops, giving them a description of you, which would make you a blip on the PD’sradar. DEA, FBI, who knows?” Roland didn’t believe that, but he wanted to watch El Paso squirm.
“You put Oz’s entire operation in jeopardy tonight. People who fuck up that bad are usually found dead the next morning in a swamp, if they’re ever found at all. Remember the guy you replaced? He’s history because he thought he was smarter than Oz and me.”
That reminder made El Paso jittery. He shifted from one foot to another. “That tramp’s not gonna do nothin’. He might even be dead. I stuck him good.”
