Page 92 of Bitter Arrangement

“He’s got a point,” William concedes and tosses a sugar packet at Eric. “Although I don’t share our young friend’s enthusiasm.”

“What? I’m a monster for liking an attractive girl’s tits?”

“Focus,” I snarl again. “For fuck’s sake, we’re supposed to be professionals.”

“What’s the point of being criminals if we act like fucking investment bankers?” Daron waves a chicken wing in the air. “This, right here, is why we do crime.”

“I definitely don’t do crime for the bad afternoon strip club visits,” William says, rubbing his face.

“Alright, enough.” I gesture at Eric. “Give me what you have.”

He clears his throat and stops watching the girl. “We’ve actually been pretty productive. Turns out, Los Sombras has been pissing off more than a few people all over Baltimore lately, which means lots of guys wanted to talk.”

“We made contact with some former associates of theirs,” William confirms. “They were helpful.”

Eric takes a file folder from his bag and slides it to me. I flip it open, and inside is a dossier with a photo of a man at the top. He’s wearing sunglasses, has a thick black beard, and very dark hair.

“Diego Navarro, also known as El Espectro, is running operations on the East Coast. He’s mainly working out of Baltimore right now, but he’s got bases in New York, Philly, and Boston. Not much is known about his background except that he’s a skilled assassin.”

“That’s why they call him the ghost,” William says. “He’s good at sneaking in and out without getting caught.”

I consider that, flipping through the pages. “What else do you know?”

“We have a location. I guess our pal Diego hasn’t been too careful in the last few months, and more than a few people have figured out where he lives.”

“Not very ghostly,” Daron says.

I ignore him and flip to the last page. “This is the place?”

“It’s a decent house,” William says.

“We don’t know about the security yet.” Eric keeps talking, warming up to the subject. “I haven’t had time to stake it out, but he’s definitely got a network with a ton of chatter. I did some basic scanning from a nearby street, and I’d guess we could break into it without too much effort.”

“Meaning you could,” Daron corrects. “Eric here can’t break into a wet cardboard box.”

Eric flips him off. “From what we heard, it seems that Diego was directly involved in the heist Brenden got burned on. I’m betting he was the one funding it all from the start.”

“The other guys are definitely locked up,” William cuts in again. “They haven’t talked yet, which is good, but who knows how long that lasts. Once they spill their guts, Diego’s going to be even more motivated to take care of your brother-in-law.”

“Meaning we don’t have much time.” I flip the folder shut as soon as Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” blares over the speaker system. As much as I hate to admit it, Daron’s probably right about the noise covering any eavesdropping, and the low light would make it very hard to read over my shoulder.

Still, a fucking strip club. I thought I was past this shit.

“What’s the play here?” Eric asks eagerly. “I assume we didn’t just do all that recon for nothing.”

“The play is you don’t worry about it.” I shove the folder into my jacket. “Erase any evidence that you were looking into Los Sombras. Make sure anyone you talked to forgets you exist. Understand?”

“You’re going to do something.” Eric leans closer. “I want in.”

I glance at Daron. He’s chewing and staring right at me with a deep frown. “That’s not happening.”

“We’re a crew, right? Whatever you’re in on?—”

“This is personal. I already asked too much of you.”

William interrupts. “I’m on Eric’s side here.”

“Seriously?” Daron asks, looking perturbed. “I expected this from young buck here?—”

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