Page 85 of Cold Hard Cash

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ scare me like that again,” Maury said firmly, kissing Jimmy’s forehead. “I’m gonna have a fuckin’ talkin’ to with motherfuckin’ Cold about keepin’ your scrawny ass safe.”

Smiling tearfully up at Maury, Jimmy laughed softly. He had no doubt in his mind that his friend would.

“I’m worried, kiddo.” Maury stroked Jimmy’s hair, affectionately patting his cheek as he sighed, “Things ain’t good out there. Streets is talkin’, and they are gonna be bloody.”

“Did I really get stuck in the middle of a gang war?”

Maury snorted, shaking his head. “It’s a fuckin’ mess, that’s for sure. And listen, do you remember that big ol’ shiny ruby ring? The one in your mom’s jewelry box? I heard some crazy shit today, and I’m startin’ to think that ring used to belong to—”

“Knock, knock,” a voice at the door said, with knuckles rapping at the frame. “Nice to see everybody is awake now.”

Jimmy’s stomach did another violent round of churning when he saw it was Detective Augustus Duplin standing there.

“Oh, just fuckin’ fabulous,” Maury groaned, rolling his eyes. “The fuck do you want?”

“I need to talk to these young men about the shooting at La Belle earlier today,” Augustus said in a professional, firm tone.

Jimmy hated that voice, Augustus’ ‘cop voice.’ “We didn’t see anything.”

Augustus stepped closer, his hands firmly planted on his hips. “I find that pretty hard to believe, considering you were covered in Vincenzo Luchesi’s blood. A DNA test will confirm it, but your clothes have already been taken as evidence.”

All Jimmy could see was splashes of red, his heart thumping heavily in his chest. “He shot me,” he said quietly. “I saw the blood... I just... passed out.”

“Did you see who shot Mr. Luchesi?” Augustus asked directly.

Jules’ scowling face appeared in his mind’s eye. “I don’t... I can’t be s-sure. No clue.”

“I think we both know you’re lying,” Augustus pressed relentlessly. “Who shot Vincenzo Luchesi?”

“Uhhh...” Jimmy’s cheeks flushed with warmth, melting beneath Augustus’ piercing glare. “Somebody with... a gun?”

“Jimmy, you need to help us out here. Tell me who killed Vincenzo Luchesi.”

“He didn’t see nothin’,” Maury growled, resting a supportive hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “You fuckin’ uglyanddeaf?”

Augustus rolled his eyes.

“What’s the matter? Can’t threaten Jimmy with outin’ him as a snitch no more, so now you’re trying to play good cop again? Go get fucked on a traffic cone.”

“What he said,” Dario agreed.

“Jimmy, listen to me,” Augustus said earnestly, his cop persona weakened for a moment by obvious concern. “I don’t know why, but the Luchesis are very interested in you. Someone broke into your apartment earlier today. Trashed it. Like they were looking for something.”

Jimmy’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “O-oh, isn’t that... weird.”

“Let me help you,” Augustus said gently. “Same for you, Mr. Romero. We can make a deal that will benefit everyone.”

“A deal?” Jimmy repeated.

“Yes. Help us, tell me who killed Vincenzo. Tell me what the Luchesis are looking for. Let’s make a deal, Jimmy.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jimmy took a deep breath and lifted his chin defiantly. “Already got one of those, thank you.”

Augustus looked confused for a moment before saying slowly, “If you don’t cooperate, you’re not going to leave me any choice. Either of you. I’m trying to give you a chance to do the right thing here.”

“Too bad we can’t help you,” Dario said with a shrug. “We didn’t see anything.”

“Nope,” Jimmy agreed, his mind made up. He would not betray Cold, especially not to Augustus. “Nothing.”