“So, ya interested?” Bianchi asked.
Deacon met Judge’s eyes. His cousin gave him a slight chin jerk.
“Depends on what it’s payin’,” Deacon said after a few seconds.
“I’ll give ya ten.”
A measly ten percent? Deacon shook his head and laughed. “Then no, ain’t interested. ‘Specially if this asshole’s violent.”
“Twelve then.”
“No.”
“Whadya want? No guarantee he’s headin’ up your way.”
“Right, that means I might be wastin’ a lot of time sittin’ on the vic if he decides to go underground and forget she ever existed.”
“Got a feelin’ he won’t forget her. He’s tha kinda dick who don’t like a bitch gettin’ tha better of ‘im.”
“Yeah?”
“He might go underground, then pop up like a weasel when she least expects ‘im, slice her damn throat and then go back into his hidey-hole. He’s tha kinda dumbass who thinks if there’s no witness, tha charges will be dropped.”
“Again, sounds like she needs a bodyguard. Not my area of expertise.”
“And again, that’s her problem, not mine.”
Judge blew out a breath and shook his head.
Deacon was sure his expression matched Judge’s annoyed one. This guy was a total fucking asshole. But, in truth, the man was right, his job had been to provide a bond for a criminal. That was it. He wasn’t a crusader of justice.
But then, neither was Deacon or Judge.
He pursed his lips and considered what the job may be worth. “Twenty-five percent.”
“Cazzo! I’ll find someone cheapa.”
“You get what you pay for, Bianchi. You get fucked if he’s not captured. Somethin’s better than nothin’, right?”
Through the phone, Deacon heard fingers drumming against what he figured was a desk, so he stayed quiet and waited.
“Twenty,” Bianchi countered.
“Twenty-five. Last chance or I’m hangin’ up. Don’t got time for these fuckin’ games.” He needed to stare at the back of his eyelids soon. Bianchi was interrupting his nap.
“All right. You drive a hard bargain. Twenty-five.”
Deacon smiled up at Judge. His cousin didn’t return that smile. “Email us the bond, docket, photos, any info I’m gonna need.” He rattled off the business email address. “Soon.”
“Gonna get it to ya in the next half hour.”
“I’ll be in touch if I got any questions. You find him first, let me know.” Deacon ended the call before getting a response. He leaned back in his comfy office chair and folded his arms behind his head. “What you thinkin’?”
Judge shook his head. “Just wonderin’ what pussy you’re gonna fall into while in Mansfield.”
“Don’t be a hater. Not ready to settle down like you, old man.”
“Then hopefully you’re wrappin’ it tight when you go divin’.”
“Also not makin’ the same mistake you did. Learned from you to never trust a fuckin’ woman.” He grinned. “’Cept for Mom. I trust her.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Judge threw at him as he walked out of Deacon’s office.
“What does that mean?” Deacon yelled.
Judge paused right outside the door. “When she used to tell you all the cookies or pie were gone? She was just savin’ that shit for me.”
“Bullshit.”
“Keep tellin’ you, I was the son she never had.” A snort came from down the hall.
Justice sat down next to him and whined. “Guess you’re gonna be hangin’ with Bubba Grump for a few days. I got some scratch to make.” The bulldog laid his head on Deacon’s lap and turned his chocolate brown eyes up at him. “Would take you along if I could, believe me. You can hang with ya sista. And Daisy.” He rubbed Jussie’s head. “And make sure you take a huge shit in the giant’s boots. I’ll give you extra treats when I get back if you do.”
Chapter Two
He knew this wouldn’t be an easy job. Not after reading all the documents Bianchi emailed him about William Warren. Then he did some online searches of his own. Turns out, the man was nothing but a menace to women.
Hell, he couldn’t even call Warren a man. A real man didn’t do what he did to women. How he kept getting sprung from the slammer to do it again baffled Deacon.
Warren had to be one slick fucker. Charm the women, be real sweet to suck them in, then slowly drain them financially dry. He did it in several ways. Borrow, beg or steal a credit card, a debit card, or get access to a bank account. Steal any hidden cash from purses, sock drawers or jugs full of change. Any way he could put his hands on a woman’s snatch to get access to her scratch, he did it.
He was good at coming up with excuses to get them to “loan” him money. He was also good at making them feel guilty. He was even better at getting them to fall for him, so he had access to “pick their pockets” right in front of their face.
A master manipulator and a crafty con artist. He was the kind who worked harder on his con simply to avoid getting an actual job.