The older guy looked back at Stefan. “It ever cause you problems?”
Stefan shrugged. “Not really.”
“Huh.” The man pushed off the island. “I’m Pinkie, by the way. And in case you didn’t catch it, my friend over there is Miguel.”
The guy on the counter waved. “Hello, Stefan Howard.”
Pinkie nodded toward the big man who’d brought Stefan inside. “I’m told you already know my friend Toomey.”
Feeling the need to show he wasn’t a pushover, Stefan said, “Doyouguys have last names?”
Pinkie stared at him for several seconds, then laughed. “We’ve got a funny guy, Miguel.”
“Really fun,” Miguel said, chuckling.
“Well, Mr. Two First Names,” Pinkie said. “If I feel like you answer my questions honestly, maybe I’ll tell you my last name.”
“What kind of questions?”
“How about we start with why the hell are you keeping an eye on Ricky Gennaro’s place?”
“Who says I was keeping an eye on his place?”
“Isay you are. Miguel, Toomey, and I just spent fifteen minutes watching you watch his place. Toomey says you were here yesterday, too. Or are you going to tell me he was lying?”
Stefan crossed his arms. “So, what if I was? What does it matter?”
Pinkie took a deep breath. “Calm down there, Howie. We’re just having a conversation.”
“It’s Stefan.”
“You answer a few more questions,Stefan, and I let you go on with your life. But if you keep up this faux-tough-guy act, I’m not going to be happy. Miguel, tell him what happens when I’m not happy.”
“People get hurt,” Miguel said.
“That’s right,” Pinkie said. “People get hurt.”
Four years in prison had taught Stefan that when backed into a corner, there were only two ways out—on a stretcher or on your feet after telling those threatening you what they want to know. “Okay, fine. I’ve been watching his place.”
“So close. I didn’t askifyou were watching his place. I know you were watching his place. I asked youwhy.”
“Because he pissed me off, all right?”
“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Miguel said.
“Let me guess,” Pinkie said. “You want to get back at him for whatever he did to make you mad.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“No one said you shouldn’t. I’m curious, though. Do you have a plan? Or are you just winging it?”
Stefan looked from Pinkie to Miguel to Toomey and back. “You seriously think I’d tell you guys? You work for him, right?”
Pinkie’s smile disappeared.
Miguel sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Oh, you didnotjust say that.”
“I do not work for Ricky Gennaro,” Pinkie growled. “Ricky Gennaro works for me, and just barely at that.”
