Page 8 of Inez

"And they were preparing to raid the Club."

His silence is telling. "Myclub?"

"Yes, sir."

"You neutralized the threat, you said."

"Pugli and Rafaelare,in fact, working together. It was suspected, but now it's a verified fact. Pugli was going to make sure border guards let the caravan through. He also has a contingent of men on the US side of the border, perhaps even in Vegas as we speak." I pause. "We have to assume the raid is going to happen as planned, even though we eliminated Rafael's half of the attack force."

"So the women are in imminent danger."

"Yes sir."

"And my Arrows are out hunting, and you're…where?"

"Mexico, still. Not far from the border. We'll be back in the States by dawn, but it's still several hours from the border to Vegas."

"Do you know when the raid was supposed to happen?"

"The day after tomorrow, I think? It's hard to remember what day it is, to be honest, sir. We've been driving for so long I don't know where I am or evenwhenI am."

"Get ahold of the women. Get them out of there. I'll arrange for a safehouse of some kind."

"They found Lorenzo at a safehouse."

"I am aware." A pause. "There is a penthouse at the Bellagio. I own it through a series of subsidiaries and shells. We will put them up there. Get to Vegas ASAP, Inez. I'll be in contact."

"Yes, sir." I wait, glance at the screen—he's quiet but still connected, so he has something else for me.

Another long pause. "I just received an update from a contact in law enforcement. Beatriz was found dead. Ren—Little Ren, I believe they call him, as opposed to your Lorenzo—is in our custody. He is safe and unharmed, but from what I am given to understand, he witnessed his…ahhh, Beatriz's execution at the hands of Roberto Pugli himself."

"Fuck!" I snap, and then follow it with a long series of the most vicious curses I know in Spanish, and Portuguese, and then revert back to English for the Boss's sake. "Goddammit, Boss. She was innocent. She was his fuckingmom.”

"I know, Inez. I'm sorry."

"Who is taking care of him?"

"An individual named Nicholas Harris and his wife, Layla. They are known to me. They own a security company, the best in the business. More to the point, they are wonderful, compassionate people, and grade-A operators themselves who employ a cadre of grade-A operators.”

"You trust them to keep him safe? My son?"

"Nicholas Harris can field a fully armed F-16, and his men are the best of the best. I would hire them to protect me, if I didn’t have you and the Arrows. You have my word of honor that your son could not be in safer hands."

"Good enough for me, sir." I scrub my face. "I need better intel. I need to know where Rafael is. I need someone to put a fucking slug in Pugli's goddamn skull, post-fucking-haste."

"Get to Vegas. Secure our people. By the time you do those two things, I will have something for you, if I have to leverage every contact, favor, and marker I have."

I let out a harsh sigh. "Watch your six, sir. Pugli has major reach. So does Rafael. Between them, even you cannot assume you're untouchable."

"The dead cannot die, Inez. But I take your point."

The dead cannot die? That's the first direct reference he has ever made to his past, which I have guessed at—in the privacy of my own mind, never out loud. I've long had suspicions as to his identity, but I respect his privacy and have not attempted to find out who he truly is.

He laughs, a quiet, amused chuckle. "You mean to say you've never tried to figure out who I am, Inez?"

"Sir?"

"Your silence is rather telling."