Page 88 of Cunning Lies
He scratches his chin. “My own business?”
“Think of this like an interview,” I say. I sip my whisky, then rest my elbow on the bar counter, right by my phone. “Why should we choose you?”
His nostrils flare. “You guys ever done insurance fraud?”
I wrinkle my nose. Some crime groups do that, especially in Japan, but we’ve always stayed away from it. Shabu Eight and gun smuggling are all we need. The casino cleans the money, and with a few protection rackets and corporate blackmail, we’re content and thriving.
But I indulge. If that’s what he wants to ramble about, then go ahead. I want him to talk himself into a corner, so I can use his own words against him.
“What’s that like?” I ask.
“Here’s your lesson in insurance fraud. You find some rich family. Or a rich loner. I don’t know, but someone who’s got it all, right? But they’relonely.Childless. Something like that. You become their long-lost relative and get them to take out a life insurance policy and put everything in your name. Sounds hard to believe, right?”
I angle my head to the side. I don’t care either way.
“But itworks!” he shouts, pleased with himself. “You gotta split the payout with a contract killer, but you guys have muscle, right?” He grins like an idiot as he grabs his long island, the liquid sloshing over the side. “Those fuckers die, and you move on with cash in hand. Let their ashes rot in the funeral parlor. No one gives a damn. Easy as apple pie.”
I lick my teeth. “Do you still do insurance fraud?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. Is that what this is? He can’t possibly think he can pull that off on me or any of the Endo-kai.
“No,” he says, shaking his head solemnly. “One of those deals went poorly. I made a mistake and went with an actual family. Didn’t work out as planned.”
“How’d you handle it?” I ask.
He leans forward. “Man to man? None of this leaves us?”
I eye my phone quickly, glad that it’s recording. “How’d you handle it?” I repeat.
“Life gives you lemons, you squeeze the shit out of them until they’re nothing but sour pulp, right?” He lifts his shoulders. “The kid was supposed to go with them, but she didn’t. So I ended up taking care of her.”
Taking care of her.Shit.
“Vivian,” I say.
“I thought I had it in the bag since her parents were so fucking loaded, but maybe it’s better this way. I don’t think I could have lived with a kid’s death on my conscience. Plus, she was listedbeforeme, which means if she was living, then Ihadto take care of her. I stopped working with that contract killer after that. The piece of shit. Clumsy as fuck.”
He never confirms her name, but I know it’s her. Blood pounds in my ears.
“I don’t blame you,” I say coldly.
“But she’s like family now, you know? And it’s not like you can forge that paperwork. I had to go throughallof that government bullshit,” Jay says. He finishes his drink, his eyes bloodshot. “And I don’t regret it. She’s a good girl, you know? Always does what I say.” He laughs. “Even if you have to get her drunk before you fuck her.”
Images flash before my mind: my fist crashing with Jay’s teeth; a cut on his neck oozing as he bleeds out on the floor; tying a cheese wire around his balls and pulling until they’re sliced from his body. I don’t know if he’s talking about Patrick fucking her, or if he’s talking about himself, but I want himdead.
This is why I don’t make promises. Jay is just as bad as Patrick, if not worse. Vi thinks he was there to save her from the back seat of the car, but he was there to make sure his contract killer finished the job.
He’s let Vi believe these lies for most of her life.
But I made a promise not to kill him. I still want to win Vi’s loyalty. To show her that her precious uncle isn’t who she thinks he is, but that I can still be good to her. I can keep my word. I’ll be the home she’s always wanted.
And that means letting Jay live.
For now. Only for now.
“What does she think?” I ask. I want to hear it from him and get it on this recording.
“Burglary gone wrong,” he says. “But I never let her focus on that. We’re family, you know? Even if Patrick went on vacation.”
His eyes are bleary, but it’s not sadness. It’s the alcohol and his acting coming together, with a hint of anger leaking through his performance. His partial finger taps on the bar.
