The Romeo Arrangement

Not even when he’s staked a clear, unmoving claim to it.

But one more look at his face tells me I’d have more success talking a mountain into moving than pulling Ridge Barnet back from the brink of all-out war.

20

No Calm Before Storms (Ridge)

The fury boiling inside me flares to a level I haven’t felt since I poisoned Linus Hammond.

Hammond was a selfish, murdering piece of shit, but Clay Grendal?

A warped little pissant who deserves to die.

If I knew where he was right now…I might not wait for Faulk and the guys.

I glance up the stairway where I left Grace in her room to rest.

She blames herself for everything.

I’m not sure I convinced her otherwise.

Everything that’s happened isn’t her fault. It’s not Nelson’s either, despite his mistakes.

Grendal, the inquisitor fuck who’s tortured them a hundred different ways, is the only one responsible.

We’ve waited weeks for him to make his move. Yet no one’s contacted Bebe with new threats. No one sketchy has shown up, riling up the townspeople.

There’s nothing.

I’m sick of this waiting game.

Storming into my office, I close the door. Rather than emailing Faulkner, I call him.

“Ridge, what’s the word?” he answers.

“This motherfucker needs to go down. Right now. We’re not wasting more time on the logistics.”

“I agree. The more I’ve dug into him, the dirtier he is, but here’s the problem: he doesn’t get his hands dirty. The man hires everything out to his army of goons. However, I think we’ve found his lab. Turns out, the Old Town Boys directly manufacture some of their drugs. It’s a smaller pharma company based in downtown Milwaukee, not too far from the railyards. They make several run-of-the-mill prescription fillers during the day and illegal substances by night. Get this—the company claims research grants every year from the city and the State of Wisconsin. Grendal himself even sits on the board.”

“Piece of shit,” I snarl into the phone. “So he’s a boring suit to the rest of the world, making money off every angle.”

“Sure does, and he sells plenty of street drugs, too.” Faulk clears his throat, dialing back the hint of Oklahoma twang in his voice. “Grendal’s uncle has his hand in tons of federal drug cases, making sure his own investments keep safe.”

“The entire family is pure scum.”

Stating the obvious doesn’t make me feel better.

“They’re embedded in the local drug scene in Milwaukee, Madison, even as far as Chicago…the designer drugs they manufacture are top of their class, sad to say. The kind rich kids and famous people order up for wild raves. It keeps the specialty nightclubs in business, too, slinging shit on their end under the table. They’ve been on the radar for years, no doubt, but Grendal doesn’t slip up, and if his uncle and the local authorities they’ve compromised don’t shut leakers up, they disappear mighty fast.”

Fuck.

Growing up in Hollywood, I know plenty about flashy nightclubs and decadent parties, where the drugs come easier than young bodies chasing fun.

I’d been invited to plenty.

I’d participated in none.

Not when I knew the reputation behind that shit.

“We have to take him down,” I say, wondering if I’m truly ready to lay out the ace in my hole, no thanks to Tobin.

“Then we have to get him off his home turf,” Faulk says, the same thing we’d decided weeks ago. Too bad it’s been moving at a tortoise’s pace. “Make no mistake, he has plenty of hands on deck. Grendal has runners, mules, mercs, and cleaners. Every last one of them are expendable. Same with his street soldiers. They know if they mess up, they’re dead men walking. Grendal has so many layers protecting him, it’d take a real twist of fate to drag his ass out here, I reckon. We have to find his Achilles’ heel.”

I know what he’s getting at.

Grace.

The one thing he’s been after this whole time.

Obviously, I can’t put her in harm’s way just to flush his demon-ass out. Can’t and won’t.

“We’ll figure it out. I have a damn good idea how it ends,” I snarl. “Let me get my hands on him.”

“Even if you could…he won’t be alone. That’s what I’m trying to assess. We get Clay out here, he’ll be coming with a swarm of hired thugs. Sure, we’ll have our own backup, but—”

“Faulk,” I cut him off. “Listen. There’s a strategy I want to run by you, but it also involves something I need to come clean about to you and the guys. Can you meet me at the Bobcat tonight after Grady closes up? I’ll call Drake in, too.”

“I’ll be there. Have to remind you, though, Nelson and Grace are a key part of this any way you slice it,” he tells me, sharpness in his voice.

“I told you before, after the way her old man was involved…Nelson Sellers can’t get wrapped up in a bust. Not directly. They might send him to jail.”