Page 137 of Luck of the Draw

“Brennan here is saying he wants to be our financier.” Vito grabbed Brennan’s shoulder and shook him. “What do you think about that?”

Angelo wheezed a laugh and adjusted his suit jacket. “No kidding! He looks like a regular Meyer Lanksy.” He used his fist to nudge Brennan’s chin in a patronizing manner. “Had no idea you were some kinda mathematical genius, Riley.”

Brennan swirled the wine and pretended to take a sip.

“He’s also saying in exchange for that, he wants to hang on to the money he owes us.” Vito placed his hand on his chest. “Should I be insulted by that? Because I feel a little insulted.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s a little insulting, Uncle V.” Angelo turned to the far end of the table. “Gio, c’mon over here. You gotta hear this.”

A single bead of sweat trickled down the center of Brennan’s back, but he remained ice cold.

She loves me. No matter what happens, she loves me.

It was enough.

Gio—a lanky man in his forties or so, who was wearing a long, black winter coat that didn’t have any business being brought out during this time of year in New Orleans—approached their end of the table. He wore a flat expression and stopped between Angelo and Vito.

“Gio, this kid owes us a buncha money,” Angelo said, still laughing, and braced his hand on Gio’s shoulder. “He says he’s gonna hang on to it. Would you care to explain what happened to the last fella who made such a suggestion?”

The flat expression on Gio’s face morphed in a toothy grin, and his shoulders heaved once with a silent laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” Vito said, reaching up to pat Gio’s arm. “Gio’s what you might call mycollections agency.” He turned to Brennan. “Lemme explain this in layman’s terms for you, Brennan, because I think your privilege has you all disconnected from reality. In the real world, let’s say a guy applies for a credit card—kinda like your marker at Harrah’s, you follow? The agreement is they’ll pay their bill in a timely manner. If they keep puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off, the credit card company sends it over to collections.” He slapped Gio’s arm. “And then the collections agency’s job is to recover that money byany means necessary. You hear?”

Brennan gave a single nod as relief settled on him. They were about to give him the information he came for, and then Brennan could get the hell out of there. Vito and his thugs would go to jail. No more problems for Brennan. The end. And then, back to the woman waiting just up the block.

The woman who loved him. The one he loved. The one he was going to follow all the way to Las Vegas and to the ends of the earth if she’d let him.

“What means have we had to take, Gio?” Vito asked, and Gio responded with a low, sinister chuckle. Vito turned back to Brennan. “Do you read the papers, Brennan?”

“I do.”

“Well then I’m sure you heard about poor, unfortunate Moe Torrio they pulled out of the Mississippi.”

“I recall,” Brennan said, cool as a damn cucumber. “Poor schmuck was missing all his teeth, and they had a hell of a time identifying him.”

“That’s right, that’s right.” Vito shrugged. “You know I do that on purpose because it throws off the authorities for a while. It’s hard to identify these poor folks after Gio’s done with ‘em, but the dental records always used to come back and bite me in the ass. I had to correct that problem. And this.” Vito reached into his coat pocket and slipped out a pair of shiny silver pliers. “This is my tool of choice.”

He set down the pliers on the bag in front of Brennan.

“You got a fine set of teeth, Riley,” Angelo remarked. “Like a friggin’ toothpaste ad. Did you have braces as a kid?”

“Nope,” Brennan said easily. “Never had a problem with my teeth.”

Vito laughed heartily as he grabbed the pliers and stood up from the table. He clicked them a few times and moseyed to the center of the room.

Brennan’s confidence wavered.

Was that enough of a confession for the agents to sweep in and take these assholes into custody?

There wasn’t a single sound coming from the front of the restaurant that indicated the sting was underway. He swallowed hard.

She loves me. No matter what happens, she loves me.

It was still enough. No matter what, no matter what, no matter what.

“Well, it’s nice to know you’ve enjoyed them so far, because I gotta collect some interest since you took so damn long to get me my money, and then insulted me by trying to hold out on me just now. And I appreciate the offer, but I already got a structure in place to handle my finances. You ever been to the Carlotta Bakery over in Bayou St. John? That’s Angelo’s mama’s place, and her cannoli is out of this world. She’s also a skilled accountant, if you gather what I mean. She made it so I never had a problem with my books in the thirty years I’ve been running the establishment.” Vito clicked the pliers again. “And you haven’t touched any of this fine cuisine, so I’m guessing you’re not too hungry, and I’ve got people to visit today, so why don’t we just get this over with so we can both get on with our day? I’m sure you’d like to get back to your girl.” He waggled the pliers at Brennan. “Hey, you know what? I recall that a few days ago, you had that sorry excuse for an attorney draw up papers to sign over your lovely home to her. I think I should send you off with a little a housewarming gift. I bet she’d love those beautiful teeth of yours to go along with the other set I sent. I don’t have another box with me, but I bet we could get a doggie bag.”

Angelo picked up the bag and started rifling through it. Brennan’s ears perceived nothing from the front of the restaurant. The rest of the group at the opposite end of the table appeared to notice something was going south with the debt collection they all probably knew was taking place.

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