The house was mostly empty save for a few pieces of furniture the owner had left behind when my father requested it. There was a full-size bed in each of the two bedrooms, towels in the bathroom, an old couch in the living room, and a small card table under a brass chandelier in the dining space. That was it. The cabinets were empty as were all the closets. The only reason we had bottled water was because we'd left some behind the last time we'd used the house.
"She's got a mouth on her, huh?" he asked, leaning back against the counter, tucking his hands into his pockets.
"This is the part where I am supposed to tell you that you can't eavesdrop on my conversations."
"Yet you won't because you know it is a waste of breath."
"Yeah, that," I agreed, sighing.
"Are you so sure she's not a pro? She could just be a good actress."
"No. When I showed up in her hotel room, she was terrified. She didn't even try to hide it. She's just had some time to pull herself together."
"So what now? Just let her sweat?"
"I imagine what she is looking for at the docks is time-sensitive. She will talk before long."
"And if she's right and what she is looking for is something that belongs to you, or someone we do business with?"
"Guess that depends. If she's just an innocent who is being forced to do this, that's a different story than if she orchestrated this. If the former, we find who is controlling her, and we handle it."
"And if it's the latter?" Lucky asked, brow arching.
Gritting my teeth, I found it hard to even get the words out. "Then we handle it," I told him, shrugging, even though nothing about this was a shrugging matter. We didn't murder women. Just the idea of it made my stomach turn. But if Romy was a leader of some sort of opposing force, she couldn't be allowed to continue on, risking our livelihood, risking our lives.
"We handle it," he repeated, tone hollow.
Knowing Lucky, he was thinking about his sisters, about his mother and aunts and cousins, all the women he vowed to keep safe, about the fact that we had a reputation for leaving women out of our business.
"I'm hoping it doesn't come to that."
"Not gonna lie, I am too."
"So, she sitting all night? You need me here? What's the plan?"
"I'm gonna let her sit for a while. You can head out. Sounds like you have someone to meet."
"Well, you know me, I hate to break hearts by leaving 'em hanging," he said, smirking. "Oh, and, yeah, you're welcome by the way, asshole," he told me, making his way toward the door.
"I'll be sure to tell my old man," I called back, getting a dismissive wave as he left.
Lucky had been the one to call and suggest moving the containers, making the maze, driving her into the center, so we could get her if she showed up.
Apparently, he'd gotten the idea when he'd dropped into his brother's place to find him watching a movie about a murderer in a corn maze.
It had been a pain in the ass to pull off, but had been worth it in the end. No one had to sweat through their clothes chasing her around. We just set the trap and waited.
"You have the door," I told Michael, one of my men. "I am going to go lay down for a bit. She doesn't come upstairs. If she starts throwing a fit, come get me."
"Got it."
The bedroom smelled like dust, and the mattress was no better than sleeping on the floor, but it had been a long-as-fuck couple of days, and I was asleep before I could even kick out of my shoes.
I woke up to a knock at the door.
"Yeah? What?"
"She said she needs to use the bathroom," Michael called through the door, making me sigh as I unfolded out of bed.