Page 59 of Corrupted Deception

He slid into my passenger seat and hooked the sunglasses onto his shirt.

“This is everything I could get in a hurry,” he said without preamble as he handed me the folder.

“Grazie, John.” John Doe—not the most original name for a man who didn’t exist. No identification, no records anywhere. He was a useful man, though, when it came to intel. The man could find dirt in a clean room.

I opened the folder and scanned the intel he’d dug up for me, most of which I’d already expected.

“Los Cazadores Sangrientosare pissed,” John said as I came to a grainy photograph of two men with machetes in their hands and a head on the ground by their feet. “You were right; they and their New York counterparts tried to abscond with your product. But they’re under the impression a third party got their hands on it after the altercation.”

“Val Rojas?” I asked, because if the cartel was coming for her, it would only be fair to warn her.

He shook his head. “Someone who goes by the name of ‘Finley’.”

Fuck.

John sighed, shaking his head. “Whoever this ‘Finley’ is would be wise to dig a deep hole to hide in until they’re offLos Cazadores Sangrientos’radar,” he said, watching me more closely than usual.

If ‘Cade Finley’ had been planning to make a grab for Luciano product that had been ‘claimed’ by the cartel and failed, he might have had a damn good reason to be pulling a disappearing act now. But to leave Charlotte out of the loop? That was a shitty thing to do to his own daughter.

I skimmed through the rest of the pages—intel on Silva andLos Cazadores Sangrientos—but something was missing.

“Where’s the intel on Declan Ryan and Charlotte Santoro?”

John shrugged. “I’ve got nothing definitive,” he said, then withdrew a few loose sheets of folded paper from his jacket pocket and handed them over.

The pages were filled with grainy photos and stats of a dozen ‘Declan Ryans’ and ‘Charlotte Santoros’ from around the world.

“Do any of those match who you’re looking for?” he asked.

“No,” I said when I’d finished scanning through every one of them. Most of the Declans were located in Ireland and none of them bore any resemblance to Charlotte. And the Charlottes? Not one of them wasmine.

“I’m not sure what to tell you, but I’ll keep digging if you want,” he offered.

Nothing had changed. Nothing about John’s countenance hinted that anything was off. But something was wrong here. There wasn’t a man on earth John Doe couldn’t find. Until now.

“That’s all right. I think I have everything I need,” I replied as I withdrew another cash-filled envelope from my jacket pocket. “For your services,amico.”

I handed him the envelope, and he tucked it away without counting it.

“Until next time,” he said with a nod, then he put his sunglasses back on and got out of the car.

With my business concluded, I promptly headed for the airport where a private plane was ready and waiting to transport me back to New York.

“I’ve got intel on the problem that put our shipment at risk,” I told Val Rojas over the phone the moment the plane was in the air, heading back to New York. “As soon as we’ve dealt with it, we’ll make arrangements to move the shipment,si?”

“Claro, Cielo,” she replied. “There is no hurry.”

I chuckled. Of course, there was no hurry.SignorinaRojas was collecting a fee for every day our shipment sat idle in her warehouse.

“Grazie, Val. But be careful,per favore.The men who are after it are dangerous.”

She laughed. “Aren’t all men, Cielo?”

“Just men? I’ve met my fair share of dangerous women,” I said while a certain tempest whirled around and around in my head, always wreaking havoc in there.

“Hm, this sounds personal, yes?” she mused. “I think you have maybe found yourself a dangerous woman,amigo?”

“You’re all dangerous, Val. It’s those high-heels—ready weapons, if you ask me.”

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