Page 65 of Callan

“Okay. Anything else?” my man asks.

“Keep an eye on the woman who lives on the floor below. I need her.”

“All right, Boss.”

I end the call and put my phone down before facing my brother’s scrutiny.

“Who is the woman downstairs?”

“Someone I’m paying for information.”

“A snitch?”

I laugh.

“Yeah.”

“Since when are you relying on random people who are not our men?”

“Since it’s convenient.”

“What’s so convenient about this woman? And who the fuck is she?”

I shrug.

“I don’t know. Some girl who spends an awful amount of time at home and is a bit nosy.”

“She cute?”

“Not that it’s your business…” I stop, unable to stifle a chuckle. “No, she’s not,” I say, regaining my composure and trying to distort the truth.

“She fucking is,” he says, smiling.

“No, she’s not,” I say, more serious this time, no grin on my face. “She’s just a normal woman.”

“How does she look?”

Not a muscle moves on his face or mine.

“Dark hair. Blue eyes. Small frame.”

“Short?”

“She’s not that short. But she’s not tall either.”

“You know a whole damn lot about a woman who is just like any other woman.”

“She is just the girl who lives downstairs. And she caught me climbing over Carmen’s balcony. We got into an argument, and I decided to hire her. She’s not the usual burly man snooping around for me. I think it’s a great way to keep an eye on Carmen’s apartment.”

“Is she any good?”

I nod.

“She gave me a couple of good tips. Plus, I can always use her apartment.”

He studies my face for a couple of moments.

“With her consent or…?”

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