He knows where my guns are.
I grab a USB drive out of my bag and plug it into the side of Rinaldo’s laptop. As I start to transfer a few things, the computer throws up an error telling me the USB drive is full, and I check to see what’s still on it.
It’s all the information I had gathered about the tournament players. I open a couple of files to see if there’s anything I still need before deleting them, and a thumbnail of a photograph catches my eye.
It’s a picture of Landon Stark. This isn’t surprising, considering Sebastian Stark was my primary competition, but it’s not what piques my interest. There’s a man behind him. He’s younger, blond, and the way he tilts his head to the side makes me realize he is the same person from Jonathan’s security footage. Joshua Taylor—Joseph Frank’s arms dealer. He’s the guy who met with Beni, and he’s the guy who picked up the gun shipment from the southern gangs.
Joshua Taylor.
Justin Taylor’s relative?
There’s no way it can be a coincidence. It doesn’t take long to figure out that the two men had the same father, and that Joshua relocated from Seattle to Chicago about two months after I killed Justin. The address he was at then is no longer valid, but I can’t find any evidence of him leaving town, either.
I jot down a couple of addresses listed under J. Taylors to check out later. As I’m finishing up, the door opens.
It’s Lele.
She’s all bundled up in a fur coat and hat, but she’s not wearing any makeup. Her eyes are a little red and her typically perfectly manicured nails are chipped at the thumbs.
“Evan, have you seen Naldo?”
Yeah, he’s at the apartment he set up for his mistress. He’s also skimming from his own business to set up a nest egg for her.
“Not since yesterday.” I manage to say the words with a completely straight face. “We had a meeting in the morning, but I don’t know where he went from there.”
She purses her lips together and wrinkles her brow as she stares down at her hands.
“Lele, what’s wrong?”
“He didn’t come home last night,” she says quietly. “He wasn’t home the night before either, but he left me a message that he was working late. I haven’t heard from him since, and he’s not answering his phone.”
All thoughts of misappropriated funds leave my head as I reach over and take her hand.
“He said his phone has been acting up,” I tell her. It’s at least partially true—he did say it. He was lying to me at the time, but the words did come from his mouth. “There’s a lot going on right now. I know you don’t want the details, but I have barely been home myself.”
She squeezes my fingers and nods.
“I shouldn’t worry,” she says, “but he always comes home at least to change his clothes or get some real food in his belly. This is so unlike him.”
“He’s fine,” I tell her. I lean in and kiss her cheek, hoping I can reassure her even when I don’t believe a word I’m saying. “He’s just busy. I’m sure things will calm down soon.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” She tries to smile, but the corners of her eyes are tight. “I was trying to get hold of my brother, but he’s not answering either. I was hoping Naldo had heard from him.”
“He didn’t mention it.” I’ve never met Lele’s brother, and I’m not even sure of his name.
Lele nods slowly, gives my hand a final squeeze, and leaves the office.
I watch as she walks slowly out to her car. After she sits down in the driver’s seat, she pulls a tissue from her purse and dabs at her eyes.
I curl my fingers into the palm of my hand hard enough for the nails to dig into my skin. Sweat forms at my temples, and my vision blurs a little.
I’ve had enough.
As a plan begins to form in my head, I know the first thing I really need is a good night’s sleep. I won’t be able to focus and get everything right if I’m not well rested. I immediately start looking for Alina.
It’s early in the evening, and there aren’t too many girls out on the street yet. Those that are milling around are way too young. I wave a couple of them on as I park along the street and wait for Alina to show up. I’m not going to drive around in circles and possibly miss her.
I end up waiting about thirty minutes before I see her walking up the sidewalk. Her long legs are accentuated by the hooker-heels she wears, and her hair is bundled up on top of her head to keep the wind from blowing it too much. She’s dressed all in blue, and I feel my heart quicken at the thought of how the bright clothing will bring out her eyes.