Chapter Thirteen
Snake
I’ve been Jess’ shadow for three days now. Her schedule is pretty boring. All she does is drive to work in the morning, then drive home in the evening. While she’s at the office, I leave her to go about my day. With the tracking device on her car, I’ll know the minute she tries to leave her office, and I’ll be hot on her tail.
That hasn’t happened yet. Work, home, work, home. That’s all she does. I like knowing her every move, knowing where she is at all times. We haven't spoken since I handcuffed her to a towel rack, but I’m always watching.
One morning, I watch Jess take quick steps towards her office, her round ass swaying in the golden sunlight, then I head to the concrete store. I have a meeting with Monty to update him on our plan. Now that I have the credit card numbers, I don’t need Jess anymore. I just have to watch her.
I nod to the handful of soldiers there as I make my way to Monty’s office and knock on the door. When I enter, the capo is the middle of breakfast. A plateful of bacon sits on his desk in front of him.
“I can come back later,” I say.
Monty shakes his head. “Sit. Talk.”
Monty crunches a piece of bacon while I pull out the CD-ROM from my jacket pocket.
“Here they are,” I say. “Thirty million credit card numbers.”
Monty smiles as he wipes the grease from his chin.
“That’s good work, soldier. Real good. Where’s your partner?”
I fiddle with my tie. “She couldn’t make it. Day job, and all.”
“That’s too bad. I wanted to see that sweet ass again.” He drinks from a mug of milky coffee. “Are you hitting that?”
“No,” I spit, reflexively.
Monty taps his coffee mug, his eyes narrowing. “Do you mind if I-“
My stomach tightens with disgust. Jess would never go for a man like Monty, no matter how much money or power he has. She doesn’t go for that kind of shit.
“She’s, uh, not very receptive to that kind of thing.”
Monty raises an eyebrow at me, chuckling. “I see.” He leans forward, folding his hands together. “So, what’s your plan for these numbers?”
“Nominal charges each month, funneled into an offshore account. I still need to hammer out the details.”
Monty nods, licking his teeth. “It would make more sense if the charges came from ShopSuite. Like, any time they purchase something from the site, there’s a small surcharge that gets funneled to us.”
I shake my head. “We’d have to get into the backend of their website to pull that off.”
Monty throws his hands out, palms facing the ceiling. “Yeah, what’s the problem? Jess is a big shot up there, right?”
All I can do is quietly nod. Monty claps his hands together.
“It’ll work, soldier,” Monty says. “Things are going to turn around. The Mariano name will command respect once again.” He picks up a piece of bacon, and nibbles the end. “By the way, bring Jess around some time. I need to keep an eye on new faces until they become familiar. You understand.”
Beads of sweat form on my forehead. I will myself not to wipe them away.
“Sure. Of course,” I say. We shake hands, and I leave him to his breakfast.
Shit. It looks like I can’t just cut Jess off. We’ll have to keep up appearances, for the plan, and so Monty doesn’t get suspicious.
I shove my hands in my pockets and walk towards the shop, hoping no one tries to stop me to talk. I need to figure out how to get Jess to play along, and how to keep her from getting both of us killed. I’m almost to the exit, when I see Salvatore and Anthony talking by the slabs of concrete. I nod at them, hoping to keep going. But Anthony runs up to me, calling my name.
“What’s up?” I say.
Anthony tilts his head back, his lips curled. “I’ve got a question for you, Snake. You like tequila?”
I think my heart stops beating, just for a second. I look up at the ceiling and shrug.
“It’s okay. Not usually my drink of choice.”
“Uh-huh,” Anthony says, looking at me up and down. “As you know, someone stole the capo’s tequila at the party the other night. You know anything about that?”
“Nah,” I say, waving him off. “They probably made a mistake in the kitchen. Those things happen.”
“Right, right.” Anthony takes his hands out of his pocket, and rolls his sleeves up to his elbow. “The strange thing is, the empty bottle was found in a trashcan in the backroom of the kitchen. It’s like someone drank the whole damn thing, or poured it out. Who’d do something like that. And why?”
I glance back at Salvatore. He’s watching me with his cold eyes, waiting for me to say something.
I push past Anthony towards the door.
“Wish I could help with your investigation, but I have actual business to attend to. See you, Sal.”