“It’s quiet,” I said.
“Exactly.” I heard him laugh into the phone. “They’re scared because they know you’re a badass. They didn’t think you’d show.”
“Please, if they’re watching, I bet they can see me shaking right now.”
“No way. They just see some bad-ass bitch standing there like a boss, waiting to face them down.”
I smiled a little. “Don’t call me a bitch.”
“I mean it in the nicest way possible, darling.”
I stifled a laugh and took a deep breath. “Seriously, Luca. Where are they?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But they’ll show. This is crunch time for them, darling. They can’t afford not to show up. You’re their last, desperate move, and if they can’t get what you’ve got, then they’re through.”
“Yeah,” I said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “I know you’re right. I just hate waiting.”
“Waiting’s always the worst part,” he said. “When the time comes, it’s never as bad as we thought. Being afraid is always worse than the thing itself.”
“Yeah? Where’d you read that?”
“Learned it the hard way.” A little rueful laugh. “From all those nights kicking in doors. I’ve been scared shitless, shaking in my fucking boots, you know what I mean? But as soon as the running, the shooting, the yelling starts, it all goes away. Fear replaced by action. The thing itself is never as bad as the waiting. Anticipation and fear are the real enemies, darling. You master those, you master the world.”
“You should write a book,” I said, then caught sight of a shadow down the block. The shadow resolved itself into the shape of a man, then a second man, then a third. I leaned forward as the trio came toward me. “Shit, I think that’s them.”
“Steady,” he said. “Stay calm. I’ll tell you what to do.”
“Right. Right. Steady.”
The lead guy was tall, stretched out and skinny, with shabby brown cargo pants and a long brown jacket. He carried a suitcase in his right hand and his left was shoved into a pocket in his jacket. The second man was short, broad, squat, with a patchy beard, dark beady eyes, and rumpled street clothes. The third wore a pressed suit, looked like he worked out, was almost handsome if it weren’t for the hooked nose and the thinning hair.
They crossed the street then came toward me. I stood up straight.
“I don’t see my mom,” I said.
“They’re not alone,” Luca said in my ear. “We just got word of a couple cars parked around the corner from you.”
“Really? How many in there?”
“Not sure yet. Guys on the roof are watching. Just pay attention and do your job.”
The men crossed into the parking lot and came toward me. I crossed my arms over my chest and stood there, not moving, as they came within a few feet of me. The man with the briefcase leered at me, a wicked, goofy grin on his face.
“You’re the girl,” he said. “You’re Clair.” His accent was light, barely perceptible.
“That’s me,” I said. “Where’s my mom?”
“She’s nearby.” Suitcase guy laughed. “My name’s Julian, the short guy there is Bautista, and the dapper gentleman is Leonel.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“Oh, come on, Clair,” Luca said, mockingly. “Don’t tell them it’s nice to see them. You don’t gotta be polite.”
I wanted to tell him to shut up, but I held my tongue.
“Polite, I like it.” Julian beamed at me. “I assume you know why you’re here.”
“You want my money,” I said. “And I want my mother.”
“That about sums it up.”
“I don’t know how you expect to get it. I don’t even have control of it yet.”
“Ah, well.” Julian held out the briefcase. He brought his other hand out of his pocket, and I flinched, afraid I’d see a gun. But he just held the case with that hand and flipped open the latches.
Inside was a stack of papers.
“We had a lawyer draw these up, you see.” The dapper gentleman named Leonel spoke up. “Not exactly ironclad, but so long as you don’t contest anything, they’ll make do.”
“And if I do contest them?” I ask.
Bautista grunted at me like a dog. “We’ll kill you,” he said.
“Now, Bautista,” Leonel said, making a disdainful face. “None of that.”
“Just telling the bitch what she wants to hear.”
“Don’t call me a bitch,” I said, almost automatically.
“Good for you,” Luca said, chuckling.
“What did you just say to me?” Bautista stared at me, eyes wide, but Julian laughed and closed the briefcase.
“I’ll apologize for my friend here,” Julian said. “He’s the least civilized of the three of us.”
“I saw you that night,” Bautista said, eyes wide. “I saw you run like a bitch. So I’ll call you what I want to call you.”
“He’ll die first,” Luca whispered, so soft.
“If you want this deal to happen, you should put your dog on a leash,” I said.
Leonel and Julian both laughed, and Bautista turned red. He took a step forward, and for a second I thought he might lash out. But Julian put a hand out and Bautista stopped himself with a growl.