Page 2 of Glamour and Grit

The cityscape is impressive when viewed from afar. When you’re in the middle of it, it never seems quite as magical. I park my Honda in the garage and snag my mail on the way up to my town house.

Ostensibly, the other half is for rent, but the landlord lists it as his residence for tax purposes. I’ve been neighbor free for several years, which suits me fine.

As I fiddle with my keys, trying to find the one for my deadbolt, I catch a whiff of thick cologne.

“Ugh, English Leather. Either someone’s grandpa is here, or my brother has been by for a visit.”

Or maybe, he is still here. I check the door, and find the deadbolt wasn’t locked in the first place. I run through my memories, trying not to panic. I have a clear recollection of locking the deadbolt. I’m certain of it, in fact.

Now it’s unlocked, and I smell my brother's favorite cologne. He will probably be sitting in the living room, feet propped up on my good coffee table, with a bottle of my chardonnay in one hand and a joint in the other.

Probably. Unless he is in some kind of trouble. The odds are about even on that.

I push my way inside and spot my brother sitting on the sofa, sans champagne or joint. Trouble it is. He looks up at me sheepishly, his face drawn in a nervous smile.

“Well, Justin, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Have you found my rainy day money yet, or should I get it out for you?”

“Um, hey, sis,” he says, swallowing hard.

I fold my arms over my chest and glare like Medusa herself.

“Don’t you hey, Sis, me. What do I tell you every time you come to me to bail you out of trouble? What do I tell you, Justin?”

“Um, that this is the last time?”

“Right. Well, last time I really meant it. No more favors, no morehelp. I’ve done all that I can for you, and quite frankly, way more than I ever should have been expected to. It’s up to you what you do with your life at this point.”

Justin hangs his head and stares at his lap.

“Um, Selene, please calm down.”

“Telling a woman to calm down is like throwing water on a cat.”

“I know, I know, but I just, um, I think you’re making them nervous.”

Them? What the hell does he mean, them? Swallowing the lump in my throat, I slowly turn around to look at the rest of the room.

The two large men flanking either side of the doorway naturally draw my attention at first. They have the eyes of hunting animals, and look ready and willing to tear me limb from limb if so ordered.

But it’s the man sitting casually in a straight backed reading chair, holding a copy ofFangoriaopen in his lap, that really scares me. His blazing white, tailored suit and fedora should make him look dated, but his eyes are like black hole portals to the pits of hell. His presence washes over me and makes me shiver, even if he wears a smile on his face.

“Is this your sister, Justin? You never said she was so charming.”

He pushes the brim of his hat back, and the light falls fully over his face. A jagged scar traces up from his collar, past his neck, and over his cheek. I know this man. I did a guest spot on my friend Mindy’s true-crime podcast to talk about monster movie magic. She talked about this man for almost the entire hour.

Salvatore Moreno. On paper, a simple shipping magnate. But he’s rumored to be in control of a vast and intricate criminal empire. They say that everything illegal, from gambling to prostitution to drugs, to even more deplorable things like human trafficking, run through Moreno first before they get the green light.

And of course, he takes his cut.

This is not the same as Justin falling in with a couple of two-bit thugs, or reprobates. Moreno is the head of the snake, the crème de la crème of the criminal underground. Whatever Justin did to get on his bad side, it must have been serious.

I almost can’t stand to look at Justin right now. I’m sick to my stomach. How could he get involved with slime like Moreno?

“Judging from the way you stopped breathing and turned white as a sheet, I take it you’ve heard of me?” Moreno chuckles and crosses his legs, sitting back in the chair. “Don’t worry, Señorita, right now, I can envision a future where everybody makes it out of here in one piece.”

I almost collapsed in relief. Moreno’s eyes narrow.

“But here’s the thing. In order for this grand future to come to fruition, I’m going to need something to happen. My business runs on reputation. You understand?”

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