Page 34 of Near Miss

“You are neither friend nor family.”

“That hurts.”

“Do you want it or not?”

“I want it.”

“Then come and get it. I don’t do deliveries.” Larson hung up.

Bozo did some quick math in his head, factoring in what else he would need and adding a pad, then called Trench back. “It’ll cost four grand.”

“You’re not thinking of skipping out on me, are you?”

“Four grand wouldn’t get me far.”

“Far enough.”

“The way I see it, this is my audition. Once you see how well I do, you’ll find more jobs for me, and I’ll make a whole lot more than four grand.”

“Give me thirty minutes.”

Chapter 20

Trench steeled himself before rapping on the door of the restaurant that his uncle sometimes used as an office. The place was located in Little Italy and closed at lunchtime.

A burly thug looked out at him from the other side of the glass, unsmiling.

“Open up,” Trench said.

The thug glanced over his shoulder and said something to someone deeper in the restaurant. When he turned back, he opened the door but stood in the gap, blocking the way.

“What do you want?” the thug asked.

“I’m going to give you a break and guess that you don’t know who I am. I’m here to see your boss,myuncle.”

Instead of stepping to the side, the thug shut the door again, locked it, and disappeared.

“Hey, asshole!” Trench knocked on the glass. “Let me in.”

He raised his palm to slap the entrance again when a new man appeared. This one Trench knew. He was a member of his uncle’s inner circle, Gregor... something or other. It didn’t matter. Everyone called him the Bean Counter.

The man opened the door. “Hello, Trench. I’m sorry, but your uncle’s in the middle of a meeting.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure you can help me instead.”

“What can I do for you?”

Trench looked left and right down the sidewalk. “Can we talk about this inside?”

The Bean Counter waited a beat before he stepped out of the way and let Trench in.

There were a dozen men in the restaurant, most of them enforcer-types. The door to the private dining room behind the bar was closed, so maybe his uncle really was in a meeting. Trench didn’t really care. He’d rather not deal directly with his uncle about this anyway.

“So?” the Bean Counter asked.

“I need money.”

The man did not look surprised. “How much?”

---