“You can thank me tonight when you’re naked.”
Jeez.
The waitress came and slid our plates on the table. I unwrapped my cutlery from the weird perma-glue tab and napkin.
“Before we talk about na**d gratitude, let’s talk about how you’ve been lying to me for days about the diamonds.” I forked into my burrito.
“I haven’t lied, I’ve given creative answers.”
“Uh-hunh.”
He let go of my hair and turned to his food. “My having the diamonds was need to know information. You didn’t need to know.”
With effort, I swallowed my mouthful of burrito. “Excuse me?”
Lee downed his own bite and turned again to me catching my Polar Freeze Glare.
“All right,” he said, “there’s not much I can say but I’ll tell you what I can.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Some explanation first,” he began, “crime is very organized at the top. Criminals have levels of management, they have training, they have territories. Most of the time, these operations are multi-faceted, running guns, drugs, girls, extorting payment for protection, whatever. People know who does what and they deal their own shit in their own neighborhoods.
They step over the line only when they have the power to back up a takeover.”
I nodded while Lee took another bite and he continued. “Coxy doesn’t play that game. Coxy does what he wants, where he wants. He’s messy, greedy and insane. He’s also determined, tenacious and, I’ll repeat, insane. He’s been causin’ problems with Denver crime for a long time. There’s something to be said for organization, even in crime. Mess is just mess, in this case more drugs, more guns but worst of all more dead bodies. Coxy used to be a nuisance but that’s escalated. The criminals want him taken out just as much as the cops.”
“I don’t understand, why don’t the criminals just… um, take him out?”
“Family ties.” I stared at Lee and he kept talking. “His mother’s Italian, she’s from New York and her family is powerful. Coxy had backing, if something happened to Coxy, there would be New York retribution. Or at least that was the word and New York backed Coxy in a number of jobs and cleaned up a number of messes.”
“Are we talking about the mob?” I whispered.
Lee finished his second burrito and just slid his eyes to me.
Holy shit.
“Problem is, Coxy’s made so many messes, rumor has it New York is done. Who knows how much backing he ever really had. His mother married outside the family, outside New York, to a straight and narrow guy from Denver who was worth a fortune. Maybe the ties don’t stretch that far and Coxy pulled them to the breaking point. He’s not a made man, hasn’t been through the program, as far as anyone knows, he’s a pipsqueak cousin in Denver.”
I picked up my tostada and munched in an effort at acting nonchalant when really I was thinking about Tony Soprano and getting a little flipped out.
“Is all of this new?” I asked.
“No, it’s been goin’ on for years. The rumor that New York is out is new but unsubstantiated. To restore order, a deal was struck. Coxy had to be taken out but it couldn’t look like he was taken out. That way, New York wouldn’t feel the need to act and all would be well in the world of crime again.”
“What does this have to do with you?”
“I have connections on both sides. Eddie and Hank used me as go-between with Marcus and Darius.”
I sat there with my tostada held aloft and stared at him.
Eddie Chavez and Darius Tucker were Lee’s two closest friends in High School.
Eddie Chavez was good-looking, smooth-talking and morally dubious, exactly like Lee… and then some. Everyone was pretty certain Eddie was going to go over to the dark side and spend most of his time doing time. Instead, he became a cop. He was now vice, considered a definite maverick (according to Dad, with hints of admiration) and a loose cannon (according to Malcolm, with hints of disapproval).
Darius Tucker was much the same, but he was also absolutely hilarious, so funny you’d nearly wet your pants laughing. He had soulful eyes and a dry shoulder to cry on (especially for the girls). Everyone was certain he’d quickly get married and settle down and make some woman a good husband. Instead, his Dad was murdered when he was seventeen and he went off the rails and off the radar. I hadn’t seen him in years and I missed him. He was a good guy, he’d made me laugh and he’d let me cry on his shoulder plenty of times. According to Malcolm and Dad, he was now bad news.
I didn’t know anyone named Marcus.