"You remember Reid Bauer," Stone said by way of introduction.
Reid slid into the booth, glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "Stone told me you might have a Russo problem."
"Might being the operative word."
"Not might. Definitely." Reid's expression was grim. "I still have contacts in New York. The Russos are looking for someone to blame for Big Sal's murder. Your name keeps coming up."
The server brought Stone's water and took Reid's order. After she left, he turned back to me. "There's chatter about a professional sent west. High-level target. The timeline matches. Smart money says it's you."
"Any details on who they sent?"
"No name. But the word is they're already here. Embedded. Getting close." Reid's expression darkened. "Whoever it is, they're good. This isn't some street soldier. This is someone with training, cover, patience."
Stone shot me a meaningful look.
"Any theories on motive?" I asked Reid.
"My sources say the Russos think you killed Big Sal. Whether that's true or not doesn't matter if they believe it. The signs are all there. Carlo's closed ranks. Won't talk to anyone outside the family. Classic revenge scenario."
"I didn't kill Big Sal."
"Doesn't matter if they think you did." Reid leaned back as the server delivered his beer. "Thank you, darling."
She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, then walked away.
After she was out of earshot, Reid continued. "There's also speculation about the Morettis trying to muscle in on your territory. Could be they're using the Russo situation as cover. Let the Russos take you out, then move in on the vacuum."
"Yes. I’ve heard from them. It’s more complicated than you think."
"Always is." Reid finished half his beer in one pull. "My honest assessment? Someone's coming for you. Could be one person, could be multiple plays happening simultaneously. But the threat is real. The who is up for debate."
"Understood."
Reid stood. "Watch your back. And trust no one new." He shot a glance at Stone. "Especially not people who seem too perfect for the job."
After Reid left, Stone and I sat in silence.
"He's talking about Julia," Stone said finally.
"Yeah… I got that."
"She's from New York. She applied at the perfect time. Her background is clean—maybe too clean. She has the exact qualifications you need. And now we know a professional is embedded, getting close."
I couldn't argue with the logic. It all pointed to Julia.
"The polygraph," I said. "Friday. If she's lying, we'll know."
"And if she passes?"
"Then maybe she's exactly who she says she is."
Stone studied me. "You're going to go through with this no matter what I say, aren't you?"
"Yeah. I am."
"Why?"
Because I wanted her to be real. Because she fascinated me. Because the chemistry between us felt too genuine to be fake. Because something in my gut—stupid, reckless, emotional gut—said she wasn't a killer. Something even darker said she was worth the risk, even if she was.
