Page 61 of The Guardian

“Five hundred dollars,” Harvey’s deep voice echoes in the almost-empty warehouse.

“Five hundred dollars.” I smile.

“You can torture me all you want, I’m not saying shit.”

“I have no interest in torturing you. There are no weapons here.” I motion to the emptiness around us. “In fact,” I reach into my holster, removing my gun and taking the clip out, holding them up in different hands. “I won’t even be armed.” I walk my gun over to Harvey and hand it to him.

“So what is this, then?”

“A negotiation. Look, we both know who you work for, and if I had to guess, this isn’t the first time they’ve employed your services, which makes me think you know the importance of protecting yourself. I don’t have any proof, but my guess is you also intimidated Talia Fernandez’s family as well, at your employer’s behest. A billion-dollar company like Delmore wouldn’t risk having a paper trail that led back to you, and Prince, Dune & Bellows are far too smart to incriminate themselves like that. But a lowlife like yourself is probably pretty street smart and knows how to document conversations, offers, etc., so you have an insurance policy. Am I right?”

Mick looks to the side then back at me, telling me exactly what I already know.

“Good, I was counting on that.”

“So that’s what this is about? That I’m working for these guys?”

“I don’t give a fuck who you work for. I know that your business endeavors aren’t legal, but I don’t give a fuck about that either. What I do care about is you coming after someone I was hired to protect. And I was hired to protect Juliette Pierce. While you might be a low-level criminal, the people she’s going after—the people you’re working for—are the real bad guys. I’m talking scum of the earth, worst of the worst.”

For a brief second, I think I see compassion flash across his face. “Why should I care?” He shrugs. “Has nothing to do with me.”

“Well, it does and it doesn’t, Mick. You see, Delmore has destroyed people’s lives. The victims have lost their homes, their health, and now are trapped in more medical debt than you can imagine because of this greedy company. Miss Pierce is fighting to get those people the money they deserve, but they’re fighting her and trying to lowball these victims.” I try to appeal to some sense of decency with this asshole, but I don’t think it’s actually going to work.

“Again, what does that have to do with me? I don’t give a shit.”

“I thought you might say that. Here’s my plan: I know you work for them, and I have evidence with these photos of you breaking and entering and approaching a minor with pornographic material, so based on those charges alone, and with your already extensive record, I’d say you’d get 10 years minimum at Rikers Island. Right, Harvey? Ten years?”

“Yeah, and they don’t take kindly to people who have any sort of charges involving minors,” Harvey reiterates.

“So here’s the fucking deal: You’re going to set up a meeting with your contact, and you’re going to let me know when and where you’re meeting them. I’ll be surveilling with Harvey and you’ll be wired. And before you even think about saying you’re not a snitch and won’t do it, they will kill you when I tell them what I know. All I have to do is send them this photo.” I pull out my phone and snap a picture of Mick tied to the chair in front of me. “You’re not an asset to them; you’re a fucking liability. And they’ll make damn sure you won’t talk.”

“What the hell am I supposed to be meeting them about?”

“I don’t give a shit. Think of something; you’re a criminal. Tell them you want to negotiate your pay. And just so you’re clear, if you think there’s a way you can tell them about this meeting and convince them not to kill you, again, I’ll go to the cops with what I have and you’ll be slapped with a summons to testify in court against Delmore. You will be dragged through the legal process and forced on the stand to testify against the billion-dollar corporation you ratted out, and then you’ll be left on your own to hide from them when they come to hunt you down. Basically, Mick, unless you agree to work with us, you’re fucked with a capital F.”

“How are you going to keep me safe? If I testify against them and they come after me, then that means they’ll be after me anyway if they find out I snitched.”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about that too. If you don’t go along with our plan and we’re forced to make you testify, my men and I will walk—no protection, nothing. You’ll be on your own. If you do it our way, we’ll have you on a first-class flight back to Ireland long before we take the information to them.”

He bounces on his toes, glancing between Harvey and me, calculating his odds. “Fine. What do I have to do?”

“First, you can give me all the photos you have of Miss Pierce from that bathroom camera you installed, then delete any digital copies.”

19

JULIETTE

“Ineed to talk to you about something.”

I glance over at Alex after putting away the dinner leftovers. He has a serious look on his face. “Okay. Right now?”

“If that’s okay?”

“Sure.” I wipe my hands on the dish towel and lean against the counter.

“I found the guy—the one who broke into your house and gave Chloe the envelope. His name is Peter McDonald, goes by Mick.”

“What?” I feel the color drain from my face. “You found him? Where is he?”

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