Page 49

“Yara.” I let her name hang there as a warning.

She laughed. “What? I'm doing my job.”

“Do your job without being nosy,” I told her, grabbing the last of my things.

“Fine. Separate suites are booked. Have fun in Miami with your little floor manager.” The amusement in her voice told me she was enjoying this entirely too much.

“It's business,” I said, already tired of explaining myself.

“Mhm. Whatever you say, E.”

I hung up before she could say anything else.

Everybody had jokes now.

My phone hadn't been down thirty seconds before it rang again. Malachi.

I answered while reaching for my coffee. “What?”

“Good morning to you too, motherfucker,” he greeted, sounding entirely too cheerful for somebody calling me this early.

“You calling me before seven. What happened?” I asked, bringing the mug toward my mouth.

“We got another problem.” The humor left Malachi's voice, and that alone was enough to put me on alert. “Money came up short again.”

I stopped with the mug halfway to my mouth. “How much?”

“Eighty thousand.”

I slowly lowered the mug to the counter. “Eighty fucking thousand?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his voice flat.

My jaw tightened. “Who touched it?”

“Got two names, but I ain't pressed either one yet.”

“Don't.” I leaned against the island, my mind already working through what that meant. This wasn't the first time money had come up wrong lately, and neither one of us believed in that many coincidences. “Somebody's stealing from us.”

“That's what I'm thinking,” Malachi agreed.

“And eighty bands ain't somebody getting greedy and thinking we won't notice. Either they think we've gotten too comfortable to pay attention, or they're doing this shit on purpose.” I stared at the counter, irritation settling into something colder. Somebody had gotten real comfortable playing with money that didn't belong to them.

Malachi went quiet for a second before responding. “Either way, they got our attention.”

“Don't let them know that yet.” I grabbed my keys from the counter. “Pull everybody who had access, find the connection between the shortages, and don't touch nobody until we know who's behind it.”

“Aight. I'll have something for you by the time you get back,” he assured me.

“Good. Then we handle it.”

Simple.

We'd built the organization together. I didn't need to explain to Malachi what happened to people who stole from us, and he damn sure didn't need me teaching him how to find them.

I picked up my bag, ready to end the call, but Malachi wasn't finished.

“Oh, and E?” he called, his tone shifting.