Page 3 of Kristoff

Again, I return to the thought of presence. I wouldn’t expect a man like him to accept anything other than complete obedience.

“Perhaps Harlan might provide a bit more information?” Dante questions.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Did I say Harlan’s name in front of Dante? If not, who has he been talking to?

“What about me?” Harlan asks, his gaze going from me to Dante and back.

“I’m interested in who sets up the freight trucks going through,” he repeats.

Harland straightens his shoulders. “Mister, I mind my own business.”

I exhale, relief flowing through me at his answer. Dante glances at his partner, ratcheting the tension in the room, before he continues.

“I suppose you couldn’t tell me who I could speak to, either.”

“No,” Harlan replies. “And if you knew anything about the village, you’d mind your own business, too.”

Would it be too much to ask for him to stop at no?

“Imadeit my business to learn about what happens here.” Dante pauses. “Which is why I’m here to speak to you, in hopes of bringing you into our organization.”

Harlan loses some of the color in his face.

“I’m not looking to cause any trouble for either of you,” Dante assures. “I’m aware of the issues you had, and trouble is the last thing you need. But if I can find you, others can also.”

For once, I’m at a loss for words.

The sliver of fear is turning into a wedge as I clear my throat. “I’m not sure what you think you know, but—”

“Iknow,” Dante emphasizes, “you weren’t Harlan and Kristoff when you lived in the States.”

That right there is enough to shut both of us up.

“Harlan, I know you’re here because you ran with the wrong people. Then, when you tried to do the right thing, you were nearly burned alive by the people you worked with.”

Harlan rotates his left shoulder ever so slightly.

“I also know your brother will go to the ends of the Earth for you.” He turns to me. “And your grandfather, may he rest in peace, inadvertently sent you to this little slice of hell.”

The reality of the situation lands in my stomach like a pair of cement loafers.

“We could take care of your problem back home.” He nods toward his partner. “But there’s always the possibility of the unknown.” His partner nods in return. “You’re better off here, in a place where any newcomer stands out.”

Somehow his agreeing with my original observation bothers me.

“Which is why I’ll keep this visit brief. I need the lane cutting through to the coast. I don’t care about the product coming through or what their menuseto keep going.”

What they “use?” This guy’s done his research.

“I want the logistics. And I’m willing to pay for the service.” Dante stands, pulling a thick envelope from his jacket. “I’ll leave you this, for your time.” He sets the package on the desk and turns toward the door.

All I can do is stare. Judging by the size of the stack, however much he’s willing to pay for the lane has to be a frightening amount.

Dante pauses at the door. “If anyone asks, we talked about your liquor supply. And you chose to stay with your current supplier.”

I nod. “Why us?” I can’t help but ask.

“You managed to coordinate logistics to get liquor and supplies to a place you can’t find on a map while factions are fighting for the territory. You have enough tact to work with the local lawman despite the fact he’s had a stranglehold on the area for years. And, most importantly, you did all this while hiding in plain sight. You’re a planner, an organizer, and a negotiator,” he ticks off. “Given the right circumstances, you can build the kind of power that could insulate you from any threat.” He puts on his sunglasses. “You just need the right foundation.”

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