Page 6 of Bit's Bliss
Two hundred and fifty people in total were arrested and prosecuted, although I had no idea how many were from FAIM or from the Killeens. Most of the charges were drug-trafficking related, but the list of convictions included money laundering, witness retaliation, witness tampering, maintaining drug premises, illegal firearms possession, possession of drugs and drug paraphernalia, and finally, murder. A few received life sentences without parole, but most, as Snapper said, would be eligible in ten years.
“I’ll never forget his eyes,” I mumbled, looking at the image my brother had pulled up on the screen. I used my fingers to enlarge the mug shot. It was the color of his irises that stuck with me. They were amber, and when the light from the cave’s sconces hit them, they’d glowed like cat eyes.
Snapper’s brow was furrowed when I returned his phone. “They are an unusual color.”
“Shared by less than five percent of the world’s population.”
“Is that right?”
I glared at him. I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true.
“Could it have been the lighting in the room?”
I glared at him again, then went into the kitchen. “Want one?” I asked, holding up a can of non-alcoholic beer rather than the regular-strength one I was having.
“I’m good,” he responded, making a face at the NA beer.
“You’re driving,” I muttered.
“Yeah. Also, not thirsty.”
“What are you doing now?” I asked when he focused on something on his phone.
“Checking the security footage from Norman.”
I wasn’t surprised my brother had gotten his hands on the recordings so quickly. George Norman, whose winery hosted tonight’s event, was close friends with our uncle, Tryst Avila. The two men had been members of a secret society called Los Caballeros, a brotherhood that had been in existence for several hundred years. My ancestors had established the branch in the US when they came to the country in the seventeen hundreds; at the same time, they gave the name to our family’s winery.
All my brothers werecaballeros. I’d joined a few weeks ago after Brix insisted I do in order to call an emergency meeting.
At the time, my next oldest sibling, Cru, was in Australia, visiting his fiancée, Daphne, who’d returned home after her father—a formercaballero—had a stroke. The family’s business, called Cullen House, operated out of Perth, Australia, and had started out in wine distribution. Over the years, they expanded exponentially and, now, owned a majority percentage of the larger wineries in the country. While Cru was there, he learned the chairman of the board of the multi-billion-dollar corporation, a man Daphne’s father hadn’t appointed, was attempting a hostile takeover.
Uncle Tryst, George Norman, and the eight othercaballeros viejos, as they called themselves, had prevented the leveraged buyout and proved the now-former chairman was actually a corporate spy for Cullen House’s biggest competitor.
Brix had been after me to become acaballerofor years, saying it was my familial duty. My argument had always been that the Avila family was already well represented by him and our four other brothers.
Since no one other than those initiated into the organization was permitted to attend meetings, much less call them, he’d finally gotten what he wanted by forcing my hand.
“Is this who you saw?” Snapper asked, holding his phone out a second time.
The man maneuvered his body as he approached the door, and when he rushed away from it, he did it in such a way that it was impossible to see his face—a telltale sign of a criminal.
“That guy has to be six-foot-two or -three at least,” Snapper commented. “Neither O’Donnell nor Grogan were that tall.”
“I know what I saw,” I said, rubbing my left temple when that side of my head started to throb. Severemigraines were a side effect of the hit I’d taken, one my doctors said would eventually diminish, but so far, it seemed like they grew more frequent.
When security alerts popped up on my brother’s phone and mine, I figured it was Cru returning from the event. Instead, Eberly’s profile appeared.
“Shit,” I said under my breath, not surprised that she’d showed up. She was probably wondering what the fuck had happened since I took off within minutes of her bidding twenty-five grand for a date with me.
“What do you want to do, Bit?” Snapper asked.
“You can take off.”
My brother squeezed my shoulder. “You sure?”
I jerked away from him, which made my head throb more. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll check in tomorrow. Oh, and Eberly arrived.”
