Page 85 of Queens and Monsters

Swiping my contact list, I hit Dario’s contact. My diamond ring caught my attention. “I’m so sorry, Josie,” I said aloud as Dario’s phone rang in my ear. After the beep, I hesitated. This wasn’t something I wanted to leave on his voicemail.

As I hung up, I received a text message. Praying it was from Rei, I went to my messages. Disappointment washed over me at the unknown number. I clicked on the message.

“Jasmine,this is your mother. I’d like to talk to you as soon as you feel comfortable. I’ve missed knowing about your life. Maybe you can make a little room for me, now that you’re married. To reach me, follow this link.”

Something felt wrong.

How does she know I am married?

Chapter

Thirty

Reinaldo

The fucking car smelled like fast-food and body odor. It wasn’t a good combination. I tried to remember Jasmine’s honeysuckle scent as I stared through the windshield of the inconspicuous sedan. This was the fifth night of surveillance outside Myshkin’s club in the bratva territory. At nearly two in the morning, we were no closer to going back to Bella than we’d been when we stepped off the fucking boat deck.

“I need to piss,” Diego said, opening the car door.

Laying my head against the seat, I dreamed of less time undercover and more time under the covers with my wife.

I would call Jasmine if I could. Jano worried about our phones being tracked. So, they’re now locked in alead-lined box at the capo’s place. The box was specifically designed to block phone signals. Instead, I was carrying a cheap burner that connected me to Jano, Felipe, Diego, and the members of the Luciano famiglia involved in our operation.

We’d been on the lookout for Kostya Myshkin and Herrera. The only ranking person we’d seen in the last four days was Zhdan Myshkin. As much as I’d like to put a cap into his brain, he wasn’t our main concern. The arrogant son of a bitch was the one who roofied my wife. Before I left Kansas City, I might make his killing an extracurricular activity.

Taking a sip of my Coca-Cola, I wished for a Tropicola. Unfortunately, the fast-food restaurants in Kansas City didn’t carry the Cuban-made soda. Coke was about as close as I could get. When this was over, I’d fucking bathe in tequila.

As Diego got back into the car, my cheap phone vibrated. I answered the call.“Hola.”

Jano’s voice came through loud and clear. “A message came through from Em, not sure when it was sent. The drone made a hit on the yacht Nick found off of Bahía Asunci?n.”

“Bahía Asunci?n—Mexican jurisdiction,” I said with a grin.

“Sí. Easier to sweep away.”

“It would cost some money, but that was an easier route than dealing with the Coast Guard or FBI. Fuck,” I said. “Do we know for sure Herrera was on it?”

“Not for sure. Confirmed his wife and kids were. No one got off. Fucker’s probably still burning as we speak.”

“Fuck.”

Jano hummed in agreement. “Three kids, I think.”

“If Elizondro wasn’t on that boat, he’s retaliating.”

“Ourpadreis aware. Bella is equipped with high-definition cameras, acoustic sensors, RF sensors, and radar. Nothing is getting near her without warning.”

“Does the capo know?” I asked.

“Not yet. He’s my next call.” Jano was on a different street watching other doors to the club. “Any action on your side?”

“No. Boring as shit.”

“Call the capo,” I said. “I’ll keep watching the private entrance.” Blinking, I leaned forward. “Shit, people are coming out.” The person passed within a circle of illumination. I tapped Diego’s arm. “Fucking bingo.”

“Myshkin?” Jano asked.

My tone was deadly calm. “Both of them with two goons flanking them. I’m hanging up. Get the fuck out of here. This place is about to be swarming with Russians.” I hit the red button and placed the phone in my pocket as Diego opened our weapon box in the back seat.

---