Page 31 of Always Salty

“Not this time,” he said.

I sighed and grabbed my rifle case out of the safe, then loaded it up before heading out the door.

When I got to Shasha’s office, he was the only one there.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as soon as I was in his office.

“Multiple things.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You remember that bill that they’re trying to force through?”

The bill he was referencing was one on organized crime that a certain senator—the one that’d tried to kill Shasha’s wife—had introduced. Essentially, the bill that was proposed was one that would give the government free rein of our financials, businesses, and anything else they think might be related to our ‘organized crime.’

“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”

“The bill was killed before it could get any further,” he said.

“Okay,” I said. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah.” His cheek twitched. “Only, now they’re saying that I blackmailed them into dropping the bill. That I paid off lobbyists and made them too scared.”

“Well…” I hesitated. “Did you?”

“Well, yeah.” He sighed. “I just don’t want to deal with them shining a microscope on my life again. That’s partially why I encouraged Cutter to marry Milena. More connections means it’s harder for them to pinpoint where to start with their investigating.”

“What exactly do you need me to do?” I asked finally.

“Meet with someone at the prison,” he said. “The one that Copper just got out of. He suggested we talk to his buddy, Slim, who has some information we might find interesting. But I can’t go today because it’s Vivi’s dance recital.”

I didn’t bother arguing.

This worked out well seeing as now I’d have a legitimate excuse to be there. If someone happened to die while I was there, that’s even better…

“I’ll head there around eight in the morning,” I said. “Gets me there at ten for visitation time.”

“Thanks,” he said. “And if you get a feeling that he’s blowing smoke out of his ass, you don’t have to stay.”

I shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll get whatever he has, then we can sort through it when I get back later. What time will you be done today?”

“The dance recital is at two. So maybe three-thirty-ish.”

I thought about that for a long moment before saying, “I think I might stay down there. I have a buddy that got out a little bit before me that I want to check on.”

I did have a buddy near the prison, so I wasn’t exactly lying.

But I needed the excuse and was interested in having a rock-solid alibi.

Luckily, that buddy owed me a huge favor, not to say that he would care if I’d gone to kill a prisoner that’d hurt someone I knew. He was a good guy, and a solid citizen. But he wasn’t tolerant of men that abused women.

He’d cover for me.

Plus, I needed to do a little recon.

If I wasn’t super lucky that he’d be out today in the yard, I’d have to stay a few days to get his routine memorized and do what needed to be done.

But I had full trust in myself.

I’d figure out a way for that motherfucker not to exist, even if I had to sneak into the damn prison to do it myself.

I hate when I lose things at work. Like my favorite pen or my will to live.

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