Page 116 of Beware of Dog

Her smile slipped, when he stood too long in the threshold. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s great.” He crossed the room to kiss her and pretend that it was.

Twenty-Nine

The parlay with Tres Diablos was scheduled for nine p.m., the back room at Hauser’s, Prince set to serve as arbiter. Mav was riding down from Albany.

Shep took Cass to Raven’s before he went, and Toly left with him when he headed out.

They arrived early, and Topino and Pongo were already in the back room, sipping drinks with Kat and waiting for them with intel.

Shep sat down at the big round table across from Kat and immediately wished he’d swung by the bar for a drink. He glanced at Kat’s vodka rocks with a sigh.

Kat jerked his chin toward the far side of the room. “There’s a bar cart over there so we don’t have to deal with waitresses coming in and out.”

Shep gathered himself to rise, but Toly laid a hand on his shoulder and headed that way. Shep blinked after him, surprised. Then shook his head and turned to Kat. “Tres Diablos.”

“Very new on the scene,” Kat said. “The cartels pushed them out of Mexico, but now they’re running fentanyl through them. They’re low-level street dealers who do hits for hire, kidnappings, and ransoms. Any nasty thing someone wants done, they’ll do it for a price.

“These two”—he turned his phone around and slid it within sight, screen highlighting two mugshots—“just got picked up for pushing a woman in front of a moving car while they were trying to rob her. She didn’t make it.”

“Fuckers,” Shep swore, and his pulse gave another of those drumbeat kicks that had plagued him all day.

Toly returned and took the chair to his left. He carried a vodka rocks for himself, and set two fingers of whiskey neat in front of Shep. He nodded his thanks and threw it back in one throat-burning go.

“They’re operating out of a garage in Hells Kitchen,” Topino said. He had pics on his phone that he showed them. It was pretty standard: flat-front façade with roll-top doors, narrow lot, high chain link fence topped with barbed wire. Young guys loitered on the sidewalk in the photos, shooting hooded glances across the street from beneath the brims of Yankees caps. “They’re actively recruiting. Some of the kids they’re using as dealers are still in high school. In fact, that’s how they’re pushing most of their product.”

“And let met guess,” Shep said, grimly, thinking of Sig Blackmon harassing Ned. “The college kids are getting cheaper and harder stuff from them than they’d get from us.”

“They’re selling a lot of ketamine,” Topino said with a nod. “And fentanyl.”

“That’s how Blackmon found them, then,” Toly said. “Through his kid.”

Kat nodded. “That’d be my guess.”

“Here’s what I wanna know,” Pongo said, fishing an ice cube out of his drink with his fingers and popping it into his mouth. He crunched it while he talked. “Is the kid running the show? Like, was he the one who wanted to spook the girl, or is the dad in charge?”

“Does it matter?” Toly asked.

Shep started to sayno, but then he caught Pongo’s expression, unusually thoughtful, and hitched up straighter in his chair. “Wait. It might.”

Toly paused, glass halfway to his mouth. “Isn’t the mother the one with all the money?”

“Yeah. It’s a sugar mama situation.” Shep smirked. “Kinda like what you’ve got going on.”

“Fuck off,” Toly said, absently, attention focused across the table. “She’s some high society bitch. Raven’s seen her at events.”

Topino nodded. “Which means she probably wouldn’t want all those high society shitheads knowing her son and husband hired a street gang to do their dirty work.”

Pongo grinned. “Should we have a chat with her?”

“Uh,yeah,” Shep said.

“Raven could do it,” Toly said. “Woman to woman. Help her see the importance of it.”

“You just gonna throw your old lady unto the breach like that?” Shep asked.

“Do you really think some heiress is going to listen to any of us?” He gestured around the table with his drink.

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