Apparently, I was wrong.
I watch Varro approach the clubhouse, flanked by two officers.
He walks like a man who owns the world—shoulders back, chin up, that particular swagger that powerful men develop when they've never been told no.
He looks like his son.
Same build, same dark hair, same cruel set to the mouth.
I wonder if he hits women too. If cruelty runs in the blood.
A knock on my office door. Zenon's voice, "Prez. We've got company."
"I see them." I down the rest of my coffee and set the mug aside. "Let them in. But keep the brothers close."
"You sure about this?"
"No. But we don't have a choice."
I hear Zenon's footsteps retreat, hear the front door open, hear voices in the common room.
I take a moment to compose myself—to lock down the emotions, to become the cold, calculating President this situation requires.
Then I walk out to meet the Chief.
Varro is standing in the middle of the main room like he owns the place.
The brothers have gathered—Zenon, Behemoth, Sipher, Klutch, a few others—forming a loose semicircle around him.
Nobody's touching weapons, but the tension is thick enough to cut.
We don't like cops in our house.
We especially don't like cops who show up unannounced with that look in their eyes.
Varro's gaze finds me the moment I enter the room.
His expression doesn't change, but I see something shift behind his eyes.
Recognition. Hatred.
"President Hale." His voice is clipped, professional. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Didn't realize I had a choice." I cross to the bar, pour myself a whiskey even though it's barely nine in the morning. Let him see that I'm not rattled. Let him wonder. "What can I do for you, Chief?"
"I think you know why I'm here."
"Enlighten me."
His jaw tightens.
The professional mask slips, just for a second, revealing the grief and rage underneath. "My son's body was found this morning. In a ditch off Route 28. He'd been beaten. Tortured." His voice cracks on the last word. "Murdered."
I take a sip of whiskey. "That's unfortunate."
"Unfortunate." Varro's hands clench into fists at his sides. "That's all you have to say? Unfortunate?"
"What would you like me to say?"
