Page 7

Jack

“Do not let him put you in a table by the window.” Fisher’s eyes meet mine in the rearview.

“Got it.”

Fisher doesn’t like that I’m taking this meeting when he’s the lone security detail. But we are meeting in an upscale public restaurant. No one will try anything.

A valet holds up a finger, letting Fisher know we’re next.

“When we get back, we’ll need to discuss updated security needs.” Fisher rests an arm over the passenger seat and rotates slightly. “You have one more meeting after this, right?”

The valet opens the driver’s door before I can answer, but after the car drives away and Fisher and I stand before the steps to Juniper & Ivy, the restaurant my lunch appointment requested, I confirm. “We should be back no later than six this evening. Now, in here—”

“I’ll sit at the bar. I called ahead. They have a place for me.”

“Should I act like I don’t know you?” The whole security detail is new to me. It’s not that I was against it before, but it didn’t feel necessary. Nothing proves necessity like having your daughter abducted from your home.

“No. We can walk in together. I’m wearing a visible earpiece and a gun holster. I want them to know you arrived with security. His security will be in the restaurant. Possibly dining with you.”

“Would you like to dine with us?”

“No. I have a better view from the bar. Just remember, don’t sit near a window. My view outside is limited.”

Juniper & Ivy is in a newly renovated, previously abandoned warehouse.

Soaring ceilings with exposed pipes combine with dark wood beams, bright, open sliding doors, and an expansive open kitchen to create a warm, vibrant space.

The polished concrete floors and stacked concrete walls blend into the background against a bustling restaurant.

One word to the hostess, and she leads me to the back wall with three curved semicircular leather booths with curtains hanging along the sides.

In the corner booth, the farthest from the windows, my appointment awaits with a smile.

Victor Morales stands as I approach, his smile wide and augmented by a thick mustache.

His pink plaid dress shirt and navy suit jacket tender a friendly facade.

He holds out a pudgy hand, but before I take it, I glance back at Fisher settling onto his barstool.

Get it done.

“Jackson. So good to see you again.”

“You too, Victor.” His sweaty hand leaves a hint of moisture on my palm. I refrain from swiping it on my pants leg until I’m seated across from him at the table and can surreptitiously remove the film of Victor Morales’s touch.

We dispense with the standard cordial greetings.

One man in a dark suit stands to the side of the booth.

He blends in with the restaurant, and waitstaff bump into him occasionally, given his proximity to a kitchen door.

There’s another similarly dressed man sitting at the bar near Fisher, and one more stands outside on the perimeter of the patio.

None of the restaurant patrons appear to be giving the men a second thought, although it occurs to me Fisher was correct about expanding the security detail.

Is a three-man security detail standard?

It’s not until they have served cocktails that Morales leans back against the plush leather and gets down to business.

“Mark suggested we have this meeting. He says you plan to hire a replacement head of sales.”

Given our current head of sales is under house arrest and awaiting trial, a fact well-known by all, I can’t exactly deny this truth.

“I’m evaluating my team. Promoting from within is preferable, but there is a possibility we will hire from outside. Given we lost two high-ranking executives, it may prove unavoidable.”

“Shocking about Reyes.” Victor places his palm over his heart.

“Yes.” It’s the only response I can muster.

It’s well-known Victor Morales, an American, has family ties to the Morales cartel in Mexico. It is conceivable he had something to do with my daughter’s abduction. But this is the way the game is played.

I sip my bourbon and let the burn ease my constricted throat. His dark eyes narrow as he evaluates me and my reaction. “Did you have someone you wanted to suggest for the role?”

“No, not specifically.” Victor is a distributor, and his company is an important wholesale client. He smiles again, wide and friendly. “I knew Wayne well. I’m heartbroken, for you and your family. Betrayal. It’s something that cannot be tolerated.”

I swallow and nod. “Well, his day in court is coming.”

I wait, wondering if he’ll mention that Larry already paid his dues. Officially, he committed suicide, but there’s plenty of speculation someone backing Wayne had him murdered.

“If you need recommendations, I’d be happy to send some referrals your way. My primary interest is in seeing that our current arrangement continues. Sullivan Arms is an important partner for DeCampo Distribution. Your uncle assures me you want to continue our relationship.”

“DeCampo Distribution is an important partner. We rely on your distribution channels. Of course we want to continue our relationship.” He’s relaxed and friendly. He requested this lunch. Given his primary business contact is awaiting trial, I agreed to meet with him in a client service capacity.

“And you plan to continue with the yachts? As I understand it, the El Capitan is currently under federal possession.”

Prior training kicks in. The yacht in question was privately owned by Wayne Killington, but Victor must assume it was a company vessel. I wish I was wearing a wire to capture this conversation.

“Given my role in the company, as Chief Executive Officer, I wasn’t aware of the details of the arrangement. But obviously, we wish to continue to grow all aspects of our business.”

“Excellent.” He smiles and rubs his hand over his stomach.

Conversation between us halts when the waitstaff approaches with our lunch. I have no appetite but force enough down to fake a nonplussed disposition.

“Now, you and I, we won’t get into the weeds.” He waves an arm around the open-air restaurant, and I understand him implicitly. This meets my expectations and is why I didn’t bother with a recording device. “When you have your man appointed, I’ll have him talk to Enrique.”

“Enrique?”

“Enrique Morales. Yes, if you can’t remember our last names, if you guess Morales, you’ve got a good chance of being correct.” He rolls his r’s with an impressive fluidity that deepens his accent.

“Right. Enrique.”

“We have five yachts. I assume you’ll replace El Capitan?”

“Certainly.”

I have a pretty good idea we were running guns into Mexico and drugs into the US.

DeCampo Distribution is one of our largest wholesale accounts, and it seems they were also our smuggling partner.

This covert agreement is one I suspected but didn’t have proof of until this lunch.

I imagine my uncle, the old guard, has no idea how low our leading sales team sank to continue our growth trajectory.

But he and the board are partially to blame for a slip in ethics, as they’ve been demanding sales growth for years despite a saturated US market.

I’ll play this game to uncover all the players, but there’s one thing that must be clear, or else there’s no point to what I’m doing.

“If we continue working together, I need your guarantee that nothing will happen to my daughter.”

Victor’s eyes widen and his palm returns to his heart.

“My friend. The Morales clan values family above all else. We would never. Let me reassure you.” He reaches across the table and clutches my forearm.

“We had nothing to do with your daughter. We had some personnel who assisted, but they faced a swift reprimand. I do not operate in that manner. If someone went after one of my children, I would end them. You have my word. I wouldn’t do that to you.

If you double-crossed me on a deal,” he releases my forearm, and his lower lip protrudes in an expressive gesture, “that might change.” He pauses and stares directly into my eyes. “We understand each other?”

“Yes.”

He lifts his glass in toast.

“We can’t control everyone, Jack. Remember that. But our actions teach. And family comes first. Always.”

He clinks his glass against mine.

I summon the expected words, taught to me by my uncle and mentor, “To a long and profitable partnership.”