Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Hey, Carmen,” I said, squatting down to rub her velvet head. “You’re the cutest thing,” I told her as her tail wagged hard and her leg started to tap on the ground.
It wasn’t long, though, before she was going over to Junior for attention. Not that I could blame her. I was almost a little jealous at how he was petting her all over.
Once Carmen rushed off to see what her dog friends were rolling in further off in the yard, we followed Hope into, well, the nicest freaking home I’d ever seen in my life.
The outside of the mansion was very traditional, but the inside was sleek, modern, and masculine.
“Mama, did I hear the gate?” a voice called just a second before a man came to stand in the doorway of, well, a library. That was all you could call it with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves loaded down with books.
“Yeah, Junior and Shale are here,” Hope said as the man walked over toward her, wrapping an arm around her waist.
They were a good-looking couple with a similar vibe about them.
I didn’t know what I expected of a cartel leader, but I guess I’d imagined someone older.
Andrés had to be around the same age as Junior with dark hair, tan skin, and lots of ink.
“Junior,” A said, giving him a nod. “Long time,” he added, making me wonder if Junior had ever done work for him. Even just virtually. “What you need from me?”
“It’s more about what Shale needs,” he said, gesturing toward me.
“Shale,” Andrés repeated, brows pinched.
“She owns Deja Brew,” Hope explained.
“What? You looking for business, or…”
“Or,” Junior said. “We good to talk here?” he asked, looking around.
“Yeah, you’re good.”
“Okay. Well, long story short. Shale imports her coffee. Someone got wind of that—“
“And started using her coffee to import blow,” A cut him off.
“Yeah,” Junior said.
“What? You think it’s me?” he asked, not sounding offended by that just curious.
“No.”
“Then why you here, man?”
“Because someone is doing it.”
“It’s business,” he said, shrugging, unconcerned about my predicament.
“Problem is, someone picked up her last shipment and disappeared with it.”
“Oh, so you’re in big trouble, ma,” he said, looking at me, shaking his head.
“The question is… who else is operating in town?”
“No one is operating in town. No way your imports are coming in the docks around here.”
“You’re not wrong about that,” Junior said. “But someone is operating on your turf since they involved Shale who has to do the drop of the bricks in town.”
“Oh, yeah?” A asked, and the way his brow quirked up made me think he was both surprised and annoyed by that fact.
“Ah, yeah, they… they make me drop it in that old library book bin by the abandoned store.”
“Hm,” A said, the sound almost menacing. “That right?” he asked, but it was rhetorical. “Alright. What do you know about the crew?” he asked.
“Nothing. I’ve never seen or spoken to them.”
“How’d they contact you?”
“A call to my shop, telling me where to drop the drugs off. I thought it was a one-time thing—“
“Never is,” he cut me off.
“No, I guess not. The shipments came the next month. So when I didn’t get a call, I just figured it was the same drop-off location. And that’s how it’s been going. Until… someone else took my shipment.”
“How?” he asked.
“They dressed up like me. But their wig was just purple, and…” I said, waving at my head.
“Right. And you couldn’t find shit,” he said, looking over at Junior.
“The plates were off a stolen car.”
“Right. So pros.”
“Seems like it.”
“What you want from me here?”
“To know what crew is operating in the area.”
“Why? You gonna set up a meeting? Can’t advise that.”
“More interested in knowing who they are, so I can figure out who would be willing to cross them.”
“Someone with a death wish,” A said. “Anyone willing to fuck with me in my area got too big an opinion of themselves. Which makes ‘em dangerous. So anyone who crosses them is even more cocky. Cocky criminals make stupid criminals.
“But look. I don’t got answers for you today. I’ll look into it,” A said. “Gotta warn you, this is my business now.”
“I don’t care if you take them all out, and solve the problem for us, or if I have to handle it. I just want it handled.”
“Can’t tell you my plans,” A said. “But I don’t tolerate people working in my area.”
“Understandable,” Junior agreed. “And I don’t need to know your plans, but I need to know if or when her life isn’t in danger anymore,” he said, jerking his head toward me.
“It’s fun when they talk about you like you’re not here, right?” Hope asked, giving her man a head shake. “How about we go get a cup of coffee and do our own talking?” she suggested, then started to walk.
Figuring I was expected to follow, I did, into their giant kitchen with an absolutely enormous island.