“Jesus those couriers are slow,” a woman’s voice sighs frustratingly as she picks up. “Took you long enough to call.”
“Took you long enough to send something my way,” I shoot back. “I didn’t ask for a phone call. I asked for a box of evidence.”
The woman on the other end of the line snorts and chomps her gum.
“Yeah, well,” she sighs again. “Things came up and that’s why I’m calling.”
“Please tell me you didn’t lose my box of evidence?”
She chuckles on the other end of the line.
“Hell, no,” she assures me. “Who the hell do you think I am? My precinct is dirtier than fat man’s undies on cardio day.” That is an image I could live without. “I sent out a false package to see what would happen to it. My instincts were right. Some fucker grabbed it up. Shot my courier. Then tried to come after me.”
“Hope the motherfucker is dead.”
“Oh, he is.” She pauses, the gears in her mind working overtime as she thinks through what to say next. “Look…you sure you want to go digging around in this, Ava? Whoever is trying to get this evidence, they mean business. I can help but…”
“You want something.” There is no anger or resentment in my voice. I understand where she is coming from. The woman clears her throat uncomfortably.
“My uncle wants a sit down with you and Liam Kavanaugh.”
“And who is your uncle?” Seeing as how it was the O’Malley’s who delivered the phone I can almost guess, but I want to hear it from her.
“Sully O’Malley.”
“Please hold.” I put her on mute and turn to my father.
“Sully wants a sit down, doesn’t he?” I nod, not even bothering to ask how he knows who I am talking to. My father has been in this business so long he doesn’t need me to tell him what is going on. He puts the pieces together the moment the box is delivered. “It’s smart.”
“I don’t care about smart,” I tell him. “What do you want? He is most likely going to want to build an alliance with you.”
“Us.” My father corrects. “Sully knows it’s a smart move to side with the first female head of the Bratva. I’m just a consolation prize.”
“Do you want to?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “Wouldn’t be the worst idea. The O’Malley’s, although brash, would make powerful allies. They know everything that goes on in their territory. You might find some answers from them.”
Unmuting the phone, I say, “You have a deal.” The woman sighs in relief.
“Thank you,” she says. “We need to meet soon. How is tomorrow at two pm? There is a warehouse in the Eliot district we use. That’s where I put the evidence for safekeeping.”
“Text me the address.”
“Okay.”
“What’s your name, by the way?” I ask her. “Should probably know it if we’re going to be doing business together.”
“Aine,” she tells me. “Aine O’Malley.”
“Well, Aine O’Malley—” I shift the phone to my other ear. “It’s nice to meet you officially. Let’s talk about that precinct of yours.”
Things are fishy with Mark and Dima.
Mark had been on edge when I walk into his office at the compound earlier to find him on a video call with Dima, who still refuses to tell me what he is up to. The two of them looked guilty as they interacted with me, rushing me out of the room. Mark all but pushed me out the door like a madman after I asked him to dig up some dirt on Sully O’Malley for our meeting today.
We left him to watch over things remotely from the compound. The warehouse address Aine gave me is now fully covered by surveillance cameras, satellite imagery, and a few dozen soldiers. We aren’t taking any chances. I don’t doubt Aine’s sincerity when she informed me that her uncle is truly looking for an alliance, but just because she believes him doesn’t mean I have to.
Sully O’Malley is nothing like what I expect him to be. From the long list of dirty laundry Mark aired out about the man, I expected him to be older. More around my father’s age than my own. He sits at the head of the small metal table, head held high like he is the king.