Page 110 of Parrish

“Yeah, you keep on believing that. I saw Father Murphy driving an S-Class yesterday.”

Leaving them to hash out their beliefs, I start for the dining room. Wolf calls out to me, but I keep moving. The Charon men lift their heads and all eyes flit to me.

“I’m going to need to see those books,” I announce as Pipe, Wolf, Riggs and Bas follow me into the dining room. “Like, now.”

“We weren’t done with our conversation,” Wolf growls behind me.

“Not a problem,” Arrow says. “We just need to get to the bank and pull them from their boxes.”

“What books?” Pipe interjects.

“Turns out our friends here might hold the key to getting Blackie out of the can before those motherfuckers gut him like a fish,” I inform them.

“Come again?” Wolf questions, skeptically.

“Yeah, what he said,” Mac says from behind me.

Great, now not only are my brothers looking at me like I’m fucked in the head, but my new house guests think I’m crazy too.

It’s okay.

Let them.

Pulling out the chair from the head of the table, I take a seat, and nod for my brothers to do the same.

“I don’t like this,” Riggs mutters, taking a seat next to the Charon prospect. “No offense,” he adds, looking towards the prospect. “It’s nothing against you people. I’m sure you’re a bunch of stand-up cats. It’s just, well, your host is a little off his rocker if you get my drift. By the way, I’m Riggs,” he continues, offering him his hand. “And you are?”

“Bash,” the kid with the light eyes replies, shaking Riggs’ hand.

“That’s some handshake you got there,” he says, pulling back his hand as he turns his gaze back to me. “He almost broke my hand.”

“Sit,” I order.

For the first time since it became a staple in our brotherhood, I wish I had the meat mallet handy. Not that it would do me any good. It belongs to Wolf—which reminds me, it’s time I tell these Charon guys, I’m not the one calling the shots.

Rubbing his temples, Wolf looks at me.

“You need to start talking, Jack.”

With a nod and the help of Arrow and Mac, I go on to tell my brothers about the ledgers and how there might be something in there we can use against the cartel.

“If there is, we call Schwartz, give him the intel and have him use it as a bargaining tool to get Blackie out,” I explain.

“How would that work?”

“Well if you were the district attorney, who would you want? Blackie or the fucking cartel? We give Schwartz whatever proof there is in those books to make an arrest and have him cut a deal with Ritzer to dismiss all charges against Blackie in return.”

“And what happens if there’s nothing in the books?” Wolf rebuts.

“Then we got a whole bunch of toilet paper to wipe our asses with,” Riggs replies.

“If there is nothing incriminating in the books, we know the Ice Riders have had issues with them, we go to them and get them to talk,” I say, looking between Arrow and Mac. “That a problem?”

“We’re not here to have a sit down, Parrish,” Mac says. “Scout wants revenge.”

“And he’ll get it,” I vow. “In case I’ve failed to mention it, I’m an expert on the subject.” Skeptically, both men stare at me as I drive a wedge in their plan.

It’s okay.

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