Page 7 of Matteo

Taking a deep breath, I realized that this was going to be an extremely long assignment. We needed to find some common ground, or it was going to be even longer.

“I was thinking we could grab a beer tonight, there’s a bar, I like to go to. Not too far from here.”

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes seeming annoyed. “We’re not friends, Zacharra. Why in the hell would I want to grab a beer with you?”

Taking a deep breath, I let it go. “I want to go over some details on this case. Look, I’ll be at Noir, if you decide to show up.”

He frowned as if he were thinking about it. I watched his mouth open to reply and then he clamped it shut. He spun away and stormed off.

“What a dick,” I muttered before heading back to my office.

Opening the door to my office, I picked up my laptop and placed it inside my bag. I hadn’t been lying when I said that I wanted to go over the case. Clearly, the Ito crime family was a major faction and I wanted to know everyone in the game.

Snatching up my car keys from the drawer at my desk, I looked up to find the raven was back on the windowsill. Westared at each other for a moment before he gave a series of loud, deep guttural croaks.

I stopped, and stared caught up in the sound before he finally flew off again. Snapping out of it, I turned off the light in my office.

That beer from T.J.’s was calling my name; it’d been a long week.

Chapter 3

Matteo

Noirwas rocking, and I literally meant that. The place was so crowded, I feared that it was nearing capacity, but I’d managed to snag the last booth in the place.

I’d come to work anyway and enjoy a beer not the scenery.

My laptop was already open and illuminated when Jill, one of the servers came over and plopped my beer down with a glass and a napkin. She was a cute older woman with curly red hair that had streaks of grey shooting from her temples. I knew she worked on the weekends trying to help her son pay his way through college because we’d had a deep conversation about tuition hikes a few months ago.

“Whatcha working on Sweet Pea?” she asked casually, pulling the serving tray up to her chest.

I grinned back. “Official FBI business.”

“Anything good? Serial killer stuff? I just love a good serial killer documentary,” she raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss,” I winked before she let out a loud deep laugh.

Jill sashayed off and I picked up the beer, pouring the amber contents into the clean glass that immediately started to sweat with condensation. The beer foamed up at the top of the glass turning white and I could barely contain myself as I took a big swig of it.

Surveying the room, I saw couples dancing out on the floor while some played pool. Even the bar seemed to be completely full. Finally, I reached into the computer bag, and dug around looking for a pair of earbuds.

Stuffing them into my ears, I took one last sip of the beer before I started my deep dive into the Ito crime family. I wanted to know who every single player was. There was no way in hell I wanted to look stupid again in front of Director Dracula.

Within twenty minutes, I’d jumped down a rabbit hole. The Yakuza itself had been in operation for over three hundred years. They’d been able to infiltrate small businesses that included gas stations and restaurants. It hadn’t been until after the second world war that the Yakuza had started to target politicians in order to solidify a stronghold.

Something very loud crashed nearby, causing me to pull out an earbud. Beer had spilled everywhere, and the waitress was leaning down to clean it up. Patrons seemed to just be staring not bothering to help.

“Son of a bitch!” I heard her murmur.

She took the white rag now in her hands and began mopping up the mess she’d made.

Scrambling, I stopped what I was doing and bent down to help her.

“Here let me…”

“I don’t need your help!” The woman snapped, before looking up.

A sly grin rolled over my face. “Rain?”

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