“It’s what I was goin’ on originally, but now…” She shook her head. “I’m startin’ to think they really are rumors.”
“What about their business dealings?”
“Oh, geez.” She set her laptop on the coffee table. “Where do I start? This family … they’re loaded. I mean, seriously,seriouslyloaded. Kavanagh Holdings started in Ireland, and it wasn’t until a couple of years ago that they ventured to the US. Everything looks legit. It would take a forensic accountant to find something. If there’s anything to find.”
JJ canted her head to the side. “That’s what I don’t understand. If Max is involved, I can’t imagine it’s for legit reasons. Unlike the Kavanaghs, Max doesn’t have a legit corporation to hide behind. His world is precariously built on drugs, guns, and protection money.”
“I thought he started legitimizing his businesses when he married Courtney Kogan.”
“Yeah. That was the rumor. And maybe he intended to, but that’s not the case anymore. I was able to find some links between the Adorites and the actual Sicilian mob. Recent connections. Enough that makes me believe their family ties run deep.”
“I thought the Southern Boy Mafia originated here. In Texas.”
“I think that’s what Samuel Adorite wanted the world to think. That his organization was homegrown. Maybe it was, but Max has created a stronger hold on his territory than Samuel ever had when he was alive. He’s been fortifying his ranks since he started this turf war with Sabrina Moroso.”
Baz knew some of what had transpired between the Adorites and the Morosos. The oldest of the three, Marco, had put a hit out on Max’s sister, Ashlynn. He’d blown up her house. In retaliation, Max killed him. Then Dennis was released from prison and set out to kill Max. But he was unhinged, and when he started fucking shit up, Sabrina took him out, leaving his dead body behind Max’s club. And then there was Sabrina. Based on what Baz had read, she was the real brains behind the operation and always had been. Now she was out for Max’s blood.
The Southern Boy Mafia was known by every law enforcement agency in the country, but no one could pin anything on them. The FBI had run sting after sting to take them down to no avail. Baz wasn’t sure whether Max had a guardian angel or merely had the right people in his pocket, but he was always one step ahead.
JJ sighed again and rubbed her temples. “It’s givin’ me a headache to think about. I just want to find the single line that connects Decker Bromwell to Saoirse Kavanagh, and I want it to tell me where he is. I’m not gettin’ there. The only thing I’m almost positive about is that the connection has nothing to do with Maximillian Adorite.”
“It’s a start,” Baz told her. “Hopefully, Brantley and them will get more information at that club they’re checking out.”
“They better,” she said, her eyes widening. “Because if I have to enlist Luca’s help on this…”
Baz laughed. He knew JJ admired Luca’s talent, but his skills made him her nemesis. Together they were unstoppable, but it was their competitive nature that they had to get past before they teamed up.
Baz figured another day of these endless questions, and JJ would be ready to admit she needed his help.
***
“When was the last time you cameto a club like this?” Reese asked Brantley as they stood inside the doorway of Obsession, one of the hottest nightclubs in Manhattan. Also one of the most difficult to get into.
“Try never,” Brantley answered.
“I almost didn’t think they were gonna let the kid in,” Slade said, nodding toward Atticus.
“Not a kid,” Atticus responded. It was the same thing he said every time Slade referred to him as such. “And I hate to break it to you, redneck, but I’m dressed nicer than you are.”
Reese would admit Atticus had a point. His dark blue button-up shirt and dark blue jeans did have more flair than Slade’s maroon Henley and ready-worn Levi’s. Not that either would’ve gotten them in the door without a woman like Becs on their arm.
“Y’all owe Becs one. If she wasn’t dressed like that”—Brantley nodded in her direction—“none of us would’ve gotten in.”
Exactly what Reese was thinking. Although they’d all managed to scrounge up nightclub-appropriate attire, it had required shopping beforehand. Even then, they’d kept it casual. Everyone except Becs. Reese wasn’t sure the dress she had on could actually be considered a dress. There wasn’t enough material.
Then again, she looked good. With her hair styled and makeup on her face, she looked like she belonged in a place like this. In all the time he’d worked with her, Reese couldn’t recall her ever dressing up. Not like this. She was more conventional with her attire, even when she was casual. He liked to see her getting out of her comfort zone for once.
Not that he would ever tell her that. She could dress however she wanted. He appreciated that she’d gone all out tonight because he was sure they would’ve been turned away at the door otherwise.
“Mind if we get a drink, boss?” Slade asked.
Reese glanced at Brantley, waiting to hear how he wanted to play this. Coming to this club didn’t guarantee they’d find out anything that would help them locate Decker. The least they could do was enjoy themselves. They’d locked their weapons in their respective rooms to avoid hassle, so there was no risk there.
“A couple of beers,” Brantley said. “No more than that. And while you’re enjoyin’ yourself, check with the employees and see if anyone recalls seein’ Deck here in the past week or two.”
“Will do, boss,” Slade said.
To Reese’s surprise, Atticus gestured for Becs to take his arm so he could escort her down the curved steps that led to the main bar. He hadn’t thought the kid had a single gentlemanly bone in his entire body. Apparently, he’d been wrong.
