Page 135 of After 5

She tapped out a text on her phone, and we waited. For what, I wasn’t sure.

“A white SUV is headed your direction,” Tina’s voice buzzed in my ear.

We stood three across from Gian-Carlo. Marco was to my right, and Jake on my left. Brodie was positioned by the door.

Mahlia pushed off the bar and paced in front of us. Her heels clicked on the concrete floor. She cut her eyes at me. “Mortas found your defender in Gettysburg and your little sidekick, too. I don’t believe you just sat by and allowed Caiyan to die in Gettysburg.”

She planned on me rescuing Caiyan. She knew we’d track her key, and by loaning it to Toches, she wouldn’t be blamed for helping Caiyan. Maybe she did have some feelings for Caiyan’s well-being.

“Did she call me a sidekick?” Gertie’s irritated voice grumbled in my ear.

“She’s needling you for information. Trying to figure out if you saved the bastard,” Gerry said in my ear. “Can you at least shed a tear and look like you’re suffering miserably from Caiyan’s death? I can feel you steaming from way out here.”

I dropped my eyes. Maybe having everyone connected via in-ear communication devices wasn’t such a good idea.

“Think about those abused animal commercials,” Campy suggested.

Jake moved in between me and Mahlia. “The loss of Agent McGregor was a travesty,” he said. “But he made his decision to leave us months ago.”

“Yes, a huge loss for Mahlia as well.” Gian-Carlo clicked his tongue. “A mistake on Kishin’s part, I’m afraid. He’ll pay the price for his defiance.”

I wiped a fake tear from my cheek and lifted my head, expecting to meet Mahlia’s judgmental brown eyes. I caught a glimpse of something, fear maybe. Was it possible Mahlia didn’t want to lose Toches the same way she thought I had lost Caiyan?

“My sidekick told me Aint Elma showed up and taught Mortas a thing or two.” I stared directly at Gian-Carlo.

Gian-Carlo sighed. “Even long after she’s been dead, Elma still intervenes.”

The SUV rolled up outside.

“Mortas and a pregnant girl are getting out of the car. Two goons are flanking,” Campy announced.

Mortas led Victory into the bar. The goons stayed outside. Her hands were tied behind her back. A knife was at her throat.

“You said no weapons.” I did a palms up at Gian-Carlo.

“You misunderstood; I said no guns.”

He had us on a technicality. The creep.

Mortas relinquished Victory to Mahlia, then returned outside. What was he up to?

“Where’s Mortas going?” Jake asked Gian-Carlo.

“We agreed on equal terms, did we not? I need something in the car, and I cannot have one of my boys entering the premises, correct?”

Gian-Carlo remained seated at the table and seemed not to have a care in the world. The vibe was wrong. An electricity I couldn’t put my finger on floated in the air.

General Lee’s wordsget inside your enemy’s headforced me to focus. I tried to read Gian-Carlo from across the room. A gift my aint Elma mastered, but I had to make contact to execute.

Focus. Arrogance consumed me and I envisioned myself standing on a battlefield raising the Victory key high above my head in triumph.

That’s it. Confidence. Gian-Carlo was entirely too confident he would get the key. My inner voice gave me a thumbs up for the evolution of my gift.

Victory stood next to Mahlia. Not a lot of contact for a hostage. Mahlia barely pointed the knife Mortas gave her toward Victory. It was a setup. Victory assumed I would trade the puzzle box to save her. She wasn’t being held hostage. She was in on the deal. I’d bet money that she didn’t know about Gian-Carlo’s grandson, the seer, the reason the Mafusos sought the key.

I dangled the key in my hand, and Victory’s eyes bugged. “She solved the puzzle?”

“Yes, I did.”

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