but trouble.” The man replied. “What do you want to know about him? Asking around can get your wings clipped—you know that, right? He’s dead. Leave it alone.”
His words hit a little close to home but before I could say anything, Hermes reached cross, grabbed him by the neck and slammed him face first into the table. When he yelped and jerked back, blood trickled from his nose.
I gripped his thigh under the table, but he didn’t so much as look my way. Glancing around the room, I could tell the others saw what happened, but none of them moved to help the terrified man. Hermes leaned back in the seat and lowered his angry gaze on his prey.
“You know better.” Hermes growled at him.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble.” The man stuttered, using a napkin to blot at his nose. “I just want to sit here with my bitches and have a drink. You walk in here, asking about Joseph Sharp is just not okay or safe.”
“You know how I get when I have to repeat myself.” Hermes growled.
“I know Joseph is dead.” The man spoke, leaning forward. “He was greedy. Nothing was ever good enough for him—even enough wasn’t good enough. I warned him, to take the money and walk away.”
“Why walk away?” Hermes asked.
“Because how lucky can one person be?” The man asked. “The luck only holds out so long. Shit, after a while even the adrenaline doesn’t feel the same. But he said he had on final score to settle. He asked me if I wanted in, but I took my share of the money and bounced. I know when my luck is done.”
“What money?” Hermes asked.
“We did a score in Pickering two months ago—walked out with two and a half mil large. I told Joseph it was my last. We both got out with a little over one million.” He picked up his glass, realized it was empty and frowned. He dropped the glass on the table. “But Joseph had always had more balls than brains. Somewhere along the way he came across this chip—I had no idea what was on it or even where he got it from. He tried cutting me in, but something was off.”
“Like what.” I asked.
He glanced at me.
“Answer the lady.” Hermes told him slowly.
“For one, I was enjoying my money—investing, you know? I was done with the life.” He replied, his eyes dipping to my breasts until Rei slapped his cheek. He cleared his throat and returned his gaze to Rei. “Secondly, he was way too excited about it. Anyway, he calls up Massimo Slova.”
“Slova?” Hermes asked. “The ex Green Beret?”
The man nodded.
“You’re lying.” Hermes snapped. “Slova is dead.”
“You should know better, Hermes. Just because the military tell you someone is dead, doesn’t mean they are.” The man spat.
Hermes grunted.
“Look.” The man wiped the rest of the blood from his nose into his sleeve then looked up. “The bottom line is, Joseph stole something that was meant to go to Slova, he found out and now Joseph is dead. Someone has to pay the piper.”
“Let’s say I believe you.” Hermes began. “What’s Slova doing this side of the border? His vice is guns. Canada isn’t where the money is for that.”
“It’s not about the money.” The man reached for the bottle of tequila at the corner of the table. “Someone tried to kill him, apparently, Slova thought it was Joe.”
“Please—Joe’s motive is to hit ‘em hard, take what he can and running.” I pointed out.
“Yeah? Tell that to Slova.” The man muttered. “He wants someone to pay for it. Joseph dying already was an accident. They don’t know where the key is. You’re his sister, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“They coming for you?”
“Yeah.”
The man scoffed. “If Slova wants someone dead—no use running.”
“He’ll get to her over my dead body.” Hermes’ voice was dark.
But the man across from him didn’t so much as flinch. “I don’t think I have to tell you that they can arrange that.”
“Where do I find Slova?” Hermes asked.
“Come on, Hermes.” He whined. “I’ve already told you too much.”
“Obviously not enough because I still have questions.” Hermes warned.
The man sighed. “The thing is, it’s harder for him because Joseph is dead, and the chip is missing.”
“Not a very smart criminal.” I broke the rules. “You get the goods before you kill the man. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” The man replied. “Death was never my thing. I borrow without permission