Page 38 of Rise By Sin

The second location was an Itish bar deeper in the city, and the second I pulled open the creaky wood door by it’s huge, bronzed handle and stepped inside, I knew I was in the right place. The bar, which ran the length of the place, was quiet, but seated at three of the tall stools b=before it were three solid, built guys, all wearing dark clothes and clearly concealing weapons under their jackets.

There were two tables with a few patrons watching the game on the big screen up front, and drinking beers. One guy even had a famous pint of Guiness in front of him, so I bypassed them quietly as the three watch dogs all monitored my every step. As I got closer I realized the guy closest to me was the one who had ambushed me beside my car, and stabbed me in the fucking shoulder, which still hurt like a bitch, by the way!

“Hey asshole,” I greeted him with an over the top grin on my face. “Pleasure to see you again so soon,” I quipped.

“What the fuck are you doing here you crazy bitch?” he hissed as he stared me down coldly.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t come to tattle on you. Just want to see your boss,” I told him with a shrug.

“He’s not here. Turn around and walk out right now, while you still can,” he warned as he rose to his full height and walked closer so he towered over me, trying to intimidate me.

“Well, that would seem kind of rude when your boss has gone to such pains to try and get my attention, wouldn’t it? Why don’t you just run ahead and tell him I’m here, and that I have anoffer for him?” I said in the most saccharine sweet voice I could muster, never once dropping the smile, which I’m sure looked slightly unhinged, from my face.

“You’ve got s fucking screw loose lady,” he sneered. “Wait here.” He turned and walked away from me, headed through a door marked ‘Private’ at the very back of the bar.

A few moments later he returned and barked at me to follow him, then led me through the door he’d just burst back out of. Behind it was a short corridor with several closed doors off of each side. We stopped at the last door on the right and my guide barely had it open before he was shoving me inside so hard I barely remined upright.

My heart started to pound way too fast as I fought to regain my balance and straighten up, leaning heavily against my stick as a pain shot up my back, likely from the awkward way I had twisted slightly as I fell forwards.

I took in a subtle breath to try and refocus myself, then looked up and found a large antique looking desk before me. I stood in a small windowless room that was obviously used as an office. Behind the desk sat a greying, balding man, dressed in a burgundy sweater that stretched slightly over the paunch he clearly had behind the desk. He was staring at me with nothing but annoyance. This had to be John Owen – the head of the family. He was in his sixties I guessed. His face was pitted and a scar bisected his left eyebrow. He might be older, but he was intimidating as hell as he just sat watching me and not saying a word.

“Real charmer you got working for you there,” I said as I threw a thumb over my shoulder towards the door. I had to take backsome control before I allowed him to truly rattle me. I had faced men like him before and I wouldn’t falter this time just because I wasn.t physically as strong as I had been before.

“What do you want Miss Scott? Or should I call you detective Scott?” Owen asked as he settled back into his chair and folded his arms over his chest.

“Not a detective anymore,” I clarified. “Turns out all getting injured in the line of duty gets you is the boot and a pathetic excuse for a disability pension.”

“Fine. Get to the point Miss Scott. I’m a busy man,” he sighed.

“A little rude when I’m saving you time by coming here. Now you can cross off the task of tracking me down, right? That’s why you sent two separate guys after me? You wanted to speak with me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told me flatly.

“Cut the shit. The guy who just showed me in here is the guy who ambushed me outsideTemple. I know it’s you who sent guys after me, apparently looking for my brother, Colt. I want to know why, and more importantly, I want him back.” I dropped all politeness and playfulness from my tone as I dropped into one of the leather armchairs in front of his desk and made full eye contact.

“Your brother has been digging into my business and I want to know why,” Owen admitted after a momentary pause.

“Do you have him?” I asked, trying to keep the tremble from my voice.

“And if I do?”

“Colt doesn’t know anything about your business. He was worried about some employees who disappeared from his club. He started looking into it and came to the conclusion that people trafficking seemed likely. He has nothing on you, your business, or your family. I can show you the file he built, but all you’ll find in it is articles printed from local press about old RICO cases and trials involving your family. My brother is a very intelligent man, but a detective he is not,” I told him honestly.

“My family have no dealings in the skin trade,” he denied easily.

“Look, I’m not a cop anymore. I don’t really care what your family does or doesn’t have dealings in. I just want to get my brother back home. If you have him, I’ll pay you to release him. I’m sure you’re aware Colt has several very successful businesses, as well as family money. I have access to it.”

“What leads you to believe I have your brother?”

“You sent men out looking for him and he’s missing. Seems pretty cut and dry to me,” I clarified.

“I merely wanted a conversation with Colt to find out why he was sniffing around my clubs and businesses. That’s why I was looking for him, but as yet, he’s proved pretty elusive. I have no idea where he scurried off to, but I can assure you, Miss Scott, I do not have your brother, despite my best efforts.”

It was hard not to let my panic and anxiety rear up as I saw the honesty in his eyes as he spoke. I had interviewed enough criminals in my time to be able to read the, pretty well, and in that moment I was believing Owen’s frustration that he didn’t in fact have my brother.

But if he didn’t have Colt, then that meant… Fuck! I couldn’t even allow myself to think about Colt being in the hands of that psycho murderer, and yet I was going to have to. I was going to have to because I believed John Owen. I saw the annoyance in his face that Colt had eluded him, as he put it. I was good at reading people after everything I had been through, and I was almost sure this criminal did not have my brother.

“Good,” I nodded as I clasped my hands together to still the trembling that had begun. “And I assume your search and antics to find him will end now too. Colt is no threat to you or your dealings. Nor am I. Al I care about is finding my brother,” I told him honestly.

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