Page 49 of Mafia Handbook

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bash turned on his cellphone the second he felt the wheels of the plane touch the tarmac.

“Officer Malone.”

“Grant, it’s Bash. Any news?” He barked into the phone, not giving two shits about the side-eye he was given by the up-tight motherfucker beside him.

“Judge Peter’s agreed to no bail, and the feds are taking their sweet time sending an agent for processing.”

Closing his eyes, Bash dropped his head against the seat as he released his breath. He’d called in a few favors to keep Gil Cortez sitting in county jail while he completed the mission he couldn't get out of. “Listen, Grant, I just landed. Can you get me into an interrogation room? I have a few questions for Mr. Cortez.”

Bash couldn't shake the feeling he was missing something. Considering the difficulty in finding a key to the maze, the incriminating evidence was just lying there for the taking.

“After what you did for this case, no one, not even the Chief, is going to question you.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll meet you in say an hour?”

“Perfect. See you in the same room as last time.”

Bash ended the call unceremoniously, pressing the speed dial and bringing the phone back to his ear.

“Keystone Securities this is Melissa, how can I help you?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Bash demanded as he pushed passed several passengers who were taking too long to clear the gangway.

“Excuse me?”

“Put Jamisson on the phone.”

“Is Mr. Harris expecting you?”

“Listen, Melissa, I don't know who the hell you are, but I’d recommend putting Jamisson on the phone.”

“I’m Mr. Harris’s personal assistant and I don't appreciate your tone, Mister…”

“Kelly,” Bash finished for the nasally sounding girl on the other end of the phone.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry, Mr. Kelly. Let me get Mr. Harris on the line.”

“You do that, darlin’.” Bash added as he ran down the escalator and passed baggage claim.

“Did you—?”

“I need you to meet me at the police station in forty-five minutes.” Bash interrupted, weaving his way through the busy pickup lanes.

“What the fuck, Bash?”

“Just do it, Slate. I’ll explain when I see you in person.”

* * *

Pulling into a spot beside Jamisson,Bash killed his engine as he jumped from his car.

“Mind telling me what the fuck is going on?” Jamisson demanded; his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against his driver's side door.

“I can’t shake the feeling I’m missing something about Gil Cortez.”

“What do you mean? It’s an air-tight case, you know that.”

---