Page 27 of The Woman on the Jury

“Just to reiterate. No fucking killing anyone,” Lorenzo said.

“Got it, Boss,” I said, nodding, then making my way outside.

“What’s the word?” Miko, my right-hand-guy slash security guard slash errand guy, asked, nodding his chin at me as I came down the steps toward him.

Miko was younger. Think he said he was twenty-five at his last birthday. Younger, in general, meant hungrier. More willing to prove himself. Which was what Miko was. Hungry. For more power. For more cash. And he was willing to do whatever the fuck I asked of him because of that.

Miko was six-two with brown eyes and a scar that cut through one of his brows. He kept his black hair slicked back in the old style that he claimed was ‘timeless.’ We all dressed nice, wore suits, cufflinks, nice watches, the works. But most of us would pass for wealthy businessmen on the street. Miko? Everything about him screamed ‘mobster’ if you came across him. His look, his carriage, his accent that was just a bit more Long Island than Manhattan.

“We’re under strict no-kill orders right now. Boss says there’s too much heat.”

“Can see that,” he agreed as we walked. “Never seen as much mob shit on the news as I’ve been seeing lately. So what then? If we can’t kill them?”

“We protect the girl and her grandfather.”

“Halle.”

“What?” I asked.

“The girl. Her name is Halle. Whitlock. Grandpa is Melvin Whitlock. He owns Whitlock Antiques. Family business for three generations. Seems like she plans to make that four generations.”

Like I said, Miko was hungry to prove himself.

I could always count on him to be a few steps ahead.

Halle Whitlock.

Interesting name.

Halle was unique. It suited her.

“Any other family?” I asked, wondering why she’d come right to me instead of them.

“A brother. From what I can tell, he spends all his time with heiresses, letting them take care of him. Seems like he’s in Colorado now.”

“No mom? Dad?”

“Can’t find shit about a dad. Mom died in a car accident in Jersey four years ago.”

“So she has no one.”

“Not ‘cept the old man. And her best friend.”

“What do you have about her?” I asked as we closed in on my car.

Fucking city parking sucked no matter where you were. I wasn’t even sure why I bothered to have a car half the time.

“The best friend?” Miko asked, moving to open my door for me, then moving around the hood to slide into the driver’s seat. “Lauren Leonard. Got her boss bitch shit going. Luxury apartment. Designer everything, but in the classy, not flashy way,” he said.

“How’d they meet?”

“College. Dormed together. Seems like Halle could never decide what to be, so she went for a little bit of everything. Never finished. Dropped out recently, actually.”

Something probably went wrong with the shop or her grandfather to prompt her to give up on schooling.

“Know where the grandfather is?”

“What is this? Amateur hour?” Miko asked, rolling his eyes. “Not only know where he is, but how bad he was beaten.”

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