Choked Up (28 page)

I sank into the leather seat of the jet, exhausted and beyond elated to leave Tampico.

It was a bit of a shocker, however, to find out we were returning to Chicago via Honduras.

“Three days of beach,” Stannis said. “I watch the ship load.”

I vaguely recall the U.S. government issuing a travel ban. . . .
“I didn't pack anything.”

“How much for swimsuit?” Stannis raised a finger. The flight attendant came over. “What can I get you, sir?”

“Vodka. Two glasses. Leave bottle.”

She returned after a few moments with a bottle of Chopin on ice and a plate of black bread, caviar, and its accoutrements. We clinked glasses. I struggled to sip it, overcome with the desire to get so hammered I couldn't feel my teeth.

“What think you of El Cid?” Stannis asked.

“I like him,” I said noncommittally. “New business partner?”

“Isolated deals, okey. Maybe. Never business.”

“Why not?”

“Cartels are empires built on sands of drugs. Greedy, risky money. They destroy everything they touch.”

“There's trouble in all business, even legitimate ones,” I said.

“No. A drug addict will sell his own child and become whore. The need for drug fuels his animal cunning.”

He threw back his drink. I followed suit and poured us another.

“Still,” Stannis said, “I like Alfonso Javier Rodriguez. Is clever. Smart.”

“He's not that smart,” I said.

“Oh?”

I reached in my pocket and took out the business card with no name, only a number and held it up between my fingers. “He believes I'm engaged to you, yet gives me his private number.”

Stannis chuckled in pure delight. “You keep safe,
Vatra Anđeo
. He is useful for us.”

 

We landed on Honduras's Roatan Island airstrip and were met by the Mayoka Lodge concierge, who whisked us to French Harbour after Stannis explained I had no luggage.

A sundress, shorts and tee, sunscreen, and two swimsuits later, we were delivered into the lodge's presidential suite. Quiet seclusion with exceptional views, pure rustic luxury. Dark wood, white linens, and Wi-Fi. And, my God, did I have calls to make.

But Stannis, being Stannis, kept me within arm's reach at all times. He was that crushy best friend you love but who never gives you a minute to think, much less a half hour to call your boss to get permission to stab him in the kidneys, making sure to twist the knife on the way out, immobilizing him before slitting his throat in betrayal. The stress was eating me alive. I looked almost gaunt. I hadn't slept in days.

For three days, we snorkeled—poorly, because I was a terrible swimmer—and sunned and shopped and drank.

Sunday, he got the call. The container ship was coming into Port of Puerto Cortes. “You miss Black Hawk again,” Stannis said.

“Why?”

“You are unwell, I think,” he said. “You stay in room and rest.”

“I promise,” I said and meant it.

He took Gorilla and Kontrolyor. The second they left, I hit the buttons on my watch. No signal tracking.

I called Edward Dunne.

“Maisie, me gel!” He sighed in relief. “You fair put the heart crossway in us all!”

It was good to hear his voice. “I'm on Roatan Island, Honduras. The cars were shipped via another line through Juárez to Tampico, loaded on a container barge, and are entering the Port of Puerto Cortes today. Final destination, somewhere in Lebanon is as close as I can get.”

“When can you come in?”

“Soon. I'm hoping we return to Chicago tonight or tomorrow.”

“Good,” he said. “Good.”

“How bad is it?

“Well, Danny's fit to be tied. Can't blame her, after calling in the Feds only to have it go arseways.”

“I couldn't help that—”

“Of course not, lass. Don't fret,” Edward said. “Stay safe and come home.”

I hung up and called Hank.

“Good afternoon, Miss McGrane,” answered the languid drawl of his secretary. “Mr. Bannon is out of country. He won't be available by phone for thirty-four hours and twenty-two minutes. Can I help you?”

Lovely.
“Nope. Just checking in.” I tapped the red End Call button onscreen.

I dialed home. Because why the hell not?

Mom answered. “Where are you?”

“Hi to you, too, Mom. I'm on a mini-break with Stannis.”

“I don't like him.”

“That's funny, because I think Walt Sawyer is a prince of a guy.”

She gave an inelegant snort. “I know a criminal when I see one, baby.”

“And Hank?” Mom said.

“He knows we're just friends. The thing Hank can't figure out is why Flynn would e-mail him pictures of Stannis and me.”

“That was wrong of him. Wrong,” she admitted tightly. “You missed the latest on TV, I take it.”

I fingered the notch at the base of my collarbone. “Oh?”

“Leticia and someone named Sanchez apparently foiled a fraud ring.”

“And somehow,” Mom continued, “Koji and Cash, of all people, ended up with credit for the bust. In fact, they're going to receive a Department Commendation ribbon of merit. From the illustrious Mayor Coles, of course.”

Even money that Cash was Googling
Waterboarding: Tips and Techniques.

“Imagine that.” I smiled. “I bet their SWAT teammates will be so jealous.”

“When are you coming home? There are some things we need to discuss.”

“As soon as I can.”

We made quite an entrance at The Storkling, Stannis in a black Hugo Boss suit and me in a pale blue and silver Roberto Cavalli dress that made my legs look a mile long. Our backdrop of muscle didn't hurt, either, as three of his guards in dark gray suits with Gorilla and Kontrolyor brought up the rear.

Stannis had reserved the lounge for the celebration. Gorilla texted an invitation to his men moments after we landed. Judging from the overall lack of sobriety, the men and their dates must have left the instant they got it, changing in the car on the way to The Storkling. At the sight of their leader, however, the men instantly straightened up and quieted down. Their dates, less so.

On our arrival, the lounge staff came out with trays of rakija shots.

Stannis raised his glass.

“If you fear the butcher remain out of slaughterhouse,” Stannislav said.

His instantly sobered-up men threw back their shots as though they were their last.

“Think that was bad?” I held up my left hand with the ring Stannis told me to wear that evening. “You should have heard how we got engaged.”

Everyone laughed. The relief washing over the lounge was almost palpable. Including Stannis, who kissed me to cheers.

He and I worked the room, all laughs and smiles and how d'ye dos. The women, unaware of the power he wielded, were far more receptive to our charms.

After a half hour, we left his men and Gorilla and Kon in the bar and walked through the gold curtains into the dining room.

Bobby Blaze was in full swing, singing a buoyant and hip version of “Alright, Okay, You Win.”

The Storkling was North Pole kind of chill. How someone as unaware and uncouth as Eddie V. could create this oasis of cool in Chicago was beyond me.

The maître d' led us to Eddie's table, set for six this evening. Zuzu Coles, Eddie, Mayor Coles, and three empty chairs. Zuzu gave a girlish giggle. “We're so very improper around here. But boys will be boys, talking over each other. I find it's easier this way.”

Stannis sat next to the mayor. I sat on Stannis's left next to the empty chair between Zuzu and me that I assumed belonged to Bobby Blaze.

“
Chyornyj Yastreb
will not be with us tonight,
Vatra Anđeo,
” Stannis said softly to me. “He had some difficulties in his travel plans. But you will meet him soon enough.”

As soon as politely possible, I made a beeline for the restroom and texted Edward.

 

Ever see
The Eagle Has Landed
? Maybe I can come by tomorrow and we'll watch it on Netflix.

 

I returned to my seat, only to have Zuzu pat the chair next to her. “Miss McGrane?”

“Yes, ma'am?”

“Zuzu, please.” She smiled but her eyes were shrewd. “Why, are you wearing an engagement ring?”

“Yes.”

“To Mr. Renko?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Why, isn't it the sweetest thing you ever heard, Talbott?” Zuzu exclaimed. “Eddie had just told me the terrifying story of how Mr. Renko saved Miss McGrane from a violent assault.” She pressed her hand theatrically to her breast. “Have you ever heard of anything so romantic?”

For a split second I actually wondered if steam would shoot out of Talbott Cottle Coles's ears.

Apparently Zuzu did, too. “Eddie, dearest, shall we order champagne for the table?”

Eddie grinned. “Certainly.”

Stannis showed no interest in anything or anyone, including me.

“Mr. Veteratti,” I said, trying to calm the bizarro love triangle at the table, “you are too kind. While it is so generous of you and Mrs. Coles, Stannis and I are not here as your guests. We came to celebrate a success amidst friends. And as is the Serbian way, rakija is our drink this night.”

“What kind of success?” Eddie asked.

Stannis eyed him coldly. “Not yours.”

Eddie jammed a finger in his ear and shook it. “Oh, I fuckin' know you din't just say that to me.”

“My business is not your business.”

“You're in my goddamn town, asshole. You think you talk to the Don and everything's copacetic? Is that it?”

“Yes.” Stannislav's hand strayed toward his pants pocket.

“Eddie, really!” Zuzu put a hand on his arm.

“Just kidding around, Zuzu baby.” Eddie backed down, thinking he had lost a step with Zuzu. He scowled at Stannis. “Renko's the biggest fucking joker of them all. Isn't that right, Miss McGrane?”

I flashed Stannis a love look for Zuzu's benefit. “Oh, he's the king.”

Zuzu didn't care either way. “Eddie, let's us toast their future together with your fabulous champagne cocktails.”

This perked Eddie up tremendously. He gestured and the waiter was instantly at his side, taking his order. Eddie and Zuzu put their heads together behind the menu in deep discussion.

I stared uncomfortably into space, ignored on both sides.

Talbott tipped his head to Stannis. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he said, voice low and forcibly contained. “You know who her fucking family is, don't you?” He sounded eerily like Eddie. “Cops and lawyers.”

“Defense attorneys,” Stannis said. “I meet her mother last week at Tru. Lovely woman.”

That didn't go over well. “Is she your fucking secretary or isn't she?”

“
Vatra Anđeo
is no secretary.” Stannis gave him an electric smile with sparks dancing in his eyes to match. “She is my luck.”

“Good luck charm? That calamitous bitch?”

Stannis turned slowly to face Coles head-on. “Never call her that.”

Coles shook his head, jaw slung forward. He glared at me. “There's a contract in the car I want to show Eddie. Why don't you go fetch it?”

Luckily, Stannis didn't recognize “fetch” as Coles meant it. Any reason to get away from this sniping was good enough for me. I stood up. “I'd be happy to, sir.”

Stannis caught my wrist and pulled me down to whisper in my ear, “Take man with you.”

I nodded and he let go.

On the way out, I stopped in the lounge to see just who the lucky winner was going to be.

Not Gorilla, who had a girl in a shiny gold dress sitting on his lap. Kontrolyor loomed sullenly in the corner, mouth in a snarl. I signaled him over. “Can you walk me outside but not stay too close?”

“That is not valid protection,” Kon said.

I gave him a polite smile. “Fine. I'll ask someone else.” I surveyed the lounge full of drunken patrons.

Kon blew out his breath and held out his arm. I took it and he escorted me out of The Storkling and into the night.

Fifty feet ahead of the valet stand, Zuzu's Bentley was parked behind Coles's limo, directly in front of the alley where Jeff Mant had tried to suffocate me.

In full chauffeur regalia, Poppa Dozen leaned against the trunk of the limo, blowing smoke rings.

“How about you wait right there?” I said to Kon and pointed to the mouth of the alley. Better than a kick in the shins, he begrudgingly obliged.

“Hey, Dozen,” I said.

Dozen gave me a lecherous once-over, complete with wolf whistle. “Damn! Where you been keepin' your fine self, Bluebird? You out lookin' for a razzle?”

“Uh . . . no,” I said. “Coles sent me to retrieve some papers?”

“Man ain't got no papers.” Dozen fingered the soul patch on his chin. “He just want you to go away.”

Yeah, I figured.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Well, we better find some. Renko's not going to appreciate him sending me on a fool's errand.”

“Girl, where the fuck your head at? Din't you hear me at Impound?”

“I heard you.”

“Hell, you did! Look, I ain't gonna bust him out, but you saved my goddamn life. So I'm gonna tell you what I tole him, ‘I got no problem merking a mutherfucker. But I got a big problem merking a mutherfucker who done me a solid,' you dig?”

“Coles asked you to kill me?”

“Yeah. But he weren't serious at the time.”

Cripes.
I ran a hand through my hair.

“Hold up!” Dozen grabbed my left hand, eyes wide.

Kon lunged out of the shadows. “Easy, Kon,” I said. “It's cool.”

“No, it ain't.” Dozen still held my hand. “Who side bustin' our conversation?”

“Renko's man.” I freed my hand from his.

“That a fuckin' wedding ring?”

“Engagement,” I corrected, “But—”

“We be like . . . friends an' shit, Bluebird, so lemme lay you some. Coles ain't nice, and Renko ain't nicer. Find yourself a new screw, you feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

 

Bobby Blaze was belting out a sexy, campy version of “My Man.” She caught my eye and then looked at an open table near the dance floor.

A return delay to Stannis and Coles's table of strife was A-okay in my book. At that moment I would have happily slipped on an apron and bussed tables.

The torcher ended to healthy applause. The spot went dark and she exited the stage, making the rounds until she finally slid into the seat across from me.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hi, Paulette.”

She put a finger to pursed lips. “I'm only allowed to be ‘Bobby' in the club.”

“Sorry.”

“Thanks for New York,” she said. “I owe you.”

“Fuhgeddaboudit. My Mob savvy is a direct result of continued exposure to
The Godfather
and
Goodfellas
.”

“You're funny. And fast. I owe you, Maisie.”

I tried out my best Cagney. “If youda' left me singin' alone, see, I'd be just another canary wearing a Chicago overcoat.”

Paulette was polite enough to laugh. She leaned across the table conspiratorially. “Things haven't been going Eddie's way lately. I'm not saying he's in a jam or anything. But he's a little touchy.”

I nodded. “This, too, shall pass, yeah?”

Her red lips twisted up at one end. “Eddie may be a hophead asshole, but he's my hophead asshole.”

I couldn't help glancing at Eddie V. and Zuzu cozied up at a private back corner table.

“All clear on that front.” Bobby swung her curtain of auburn hair over her shoulder. “Gal's got a stick so far up her ass, she never needs a toothpick.”

“We oughtta get together, you and me. Have a girls' night. What do you say?”

“That'd be—”

A long, low note played.

Bobby jumped to her feet. “Later. I got another set.”

I sat through one more song. But Coles and Stannis didn't look any happier. With a sigh, I forced myself to return to the table. I stopped as I heard their low, angry voices.

“It is business.”

“You get engaged in Tampico and don't tell me?” Coles said. “That's monkey business.”

Stannis's face was shuttered. “Stop.”

“Then you take her to Honduras for four fucking days.” Two angry red spots bloomed in Coles's cheeks. “Honduras. And don't bother telling me it wasn't all white sand and sex.”

“You make fool of yourself,” Stannis said coldly.

I walked to the table, sans papers.

“Where's the contract?” Coles asked.

Jackhole!
Instead I said with a mouthful of honey, “Your driver said an aide picked it up.”

A waiter pulled out my chair.

“No.” Stannis got to his feet. “We go.”

“You're not leaving with her,” Coles said.

Stannis took my hand and twined our fingers together. He raised my ringed finger to his mouth and kissed it.

We left Coles. Bitter and burning with fever.