Page 75 of The Criminal

John Smith and a new member of the team I’d not met yet arrived. The woman, Sydney O’Connor, introduced herself as the team’s negotiator. She took her seat next to Steel, the big biker-looking guy. Unlike Quinn, who was blonde and bubbly, Sydney was as no-nonsense as the men here. I could see her knocking down doors and running ops with the rest of them. I liked her attitude instantly.

At a signal from John, I rattled off the number for Jimmy’s private line. Quinn took care of dialing on the complex phone system that would protect us from any trace Jimmy might try. Not that his organization was known for their high-tech skills.

In my head, I ran through my side of the script one more time as we waited for the call to connect. Derek gave me a supportive nod and patted my leg one last time.

It was showtime.

“Yeah?” The old man sounded exactly like he always had—pissed off.

“Uncle Jimmy, it’s Lee.”

“About time you called. Where’s my merchandise?”

I bit my tongue to keep from shouting at him that Tony had it. The truth wasn’t the point of this call.

“About that. I have a business proposition I’d like to talk about.”

“Business, my ass. You’re a quitter trying to get out. Where’s the merch?”

“I wanted out, but that was a mistake.” I paused and let the wordmistakesoak into Jimmy’s thick skull. He liked to be right. “I’m not in a position to leave yet. I need more money, lots more. When I retire, I’d like more cash reserves so I can insulate myself from bullshit like this De Wispelaere situation.”

“You were always a greedy bitch. I knew you’d come around in time. So, you’re moving that merchandise and are hungry for more.” Jimmy chuckled.

“I’m done being small time. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

“I don’t need to meet anyone.” I could picture Jimmy’s expression, the crossed arms and grim, tight line of his mouth. He didn’t like new people. They were dangerous. The only way someone got in to talk to Jimmy was through an introduction. He was paranoid for good reason. More than one person had tried to kill him over the years.

“Jimmy, I’m trying to do this the right way. Introduce you to my new partner. Talk about the family without the worry of who could be listening in.”

He was unreasonably concerned about wire taps. He kept as much of his business out of the digital world as possible.

“Fucking feds,” Jimmy spat.

If he only knew what was really going on, it would be me he cursed.

John eased a slip of paper toward me. I glanced at what he’d written on it. An enticement. Perfect. I could sell that.

“And I have a gift that needs to be hand delivered. A thank-you for everything you’ve done for me.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth.Done for me,my ass. He used me just like he did everyone else around him.

Jimmy sighed like I was inconveniencing him. I checked the time. Happy hour should have started fifteen minutes ago—his martini was getting warm. Poor man.

“About time you give me the respect I deserve. I’ll meet your new partner.”

What a joke—he wanted respect? He’d only ever cared about all the money I’d made for him. He couldn’t take respect to the bank, and Jimmy liked to live large.

“Thank you, Uncle Jimmy.”

“See you in three days. Text the details of your arrival to the number you have.”

Click.

“Clear,” Quinn said, and the room exhaled. The line was closed on our end.

Shit. I’d done it.

I sat back in my chair, exhausted. The stress that had kept me going evaporated, and I had nothing left. Derek put his hand on my thigh and gave me a soft squeeze while the rest of the Smith Agency people congratulated me.

“One question, John. What’s the gift?” I asked after taking a sip of water.

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