Page 11 of Special Agent Joseph

Chuckling without much humor, Joseph slid onto a seat and put his elbows on his knees, hands open as if he held a prayer book. “Look, man, I’m slowly getting my memory back, but for weeks I had no idea of anything. Who I am? What my job was? Where I lived? Nothing. Zip. You can confirm that with the hospital.”

Vinnie shot forward, pointing his finger very close to the front of Joseph’s face. “I don’t believe it.”

Joseph slapped at the hand as if annoyed by having his space invaded and leaned back. “I don’t really give a fuck, man. I still don’t remember much. The cops say I work for them. They tell me I’m Joseph Marcus, Special Agent with the FBI, and it mean’s piss all to me.”

Megan stifled her worried cry, watching this man diss the murderer everyone else bowed down to.

Visibly, Vinnie held back his seething anger. He stared into the other man’s face for long moments, watchful, scrutinizing his target before adding, “It’s true. You are a special agent.”

“If you say so.” Joseph put his hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out a wallet that flipped open. “I also have a semi-destroyed badge to prove it. Yet I have no memory of being a cop. Look, I don’t know who you are or why you feel you have the right to force me here, but I don’t like it.”

“Che diavolo!”Reverting to insulting Joseph in his own language, Vinnie added, “Listen, coglione, you work for me. And I pay you top dollar to do so. That’s why you’re here. And I need you to continue with passing along the information you’ve beenfeeding me. In fact, there’s a shipment of nitazenes, potent drugs better and cheaper than even fentanyl, arriving from China in the next few days. And it’s mine.” Pointing his finger at his own chest this time, he continued, “Sought-after merchandise I want inmywarehouses. But intelligence says the FBI are on it too. You need to tell me when they plan to attack and where, so we can get to the product before they do.”

Unable to stop herself, Megan leaned forward to better hear Marcus’s answer. Suddenly, she saw him look her way, his mouth tightening, and his eyes narrowing when their glances connected, She shot back into hiding, holding her breath. Would he squeal on her?

Jesus!

Should she jump over the balustrade?

Christ, the gardener would see her, and she’d be in big doodoo.

Fuck, fuckity fuck!

Nerves pounding, and her mouth dry, she waited and realized he hadn’t said anythingabout her being there. Instead, he did his best to get out of whatever job Vinnie intended forcing onto him.

“You want me to snitch on the FBI? Seriously, man?”

Vinnie’s voice turned mean as hell. “That’s what I pay you the big bucks for...man.” Calming himself by inhaling a deep breath, Vinnie continued in a less arrogant tone. “Son, if I didn’t need this information, you’d be dead, and I’d be happy to ensure your mangy mutt takes his last breath too.”

Standing now, Joseph stopped in his tracks. “I have a mangy mutt! Excuse me?”

Vinnie eyed the man closer. “Joseph, last time I saw you, you mentioned you’d hit your beloved guard dog with your car and spent a fortune on getting the vet to do surgery. I’m thinking he’s healed by now. But if you so much as try anything other thanwhat we’ve agreed on, I will personally see to it that both you and that animal die… painfully and slowly.”

Joseph’s next words showed his surprise. “Ahh… now the bashed up Lexus in my garage makes sense. But… I’m telling you the truth. I’m lost in a cloud right now. Things are coming back little by little. Yet I don’t remember you at all. You or the mangy mutt you’re planning to kill.”

The crime boss stepped forward, threateningly. Megan got to see the man who made others quiver in their boots… well, except for Joseph who seemed immune to the man’s alarming presence. When he spoke, his voice chilling, he spoke with clarity as if to a child. “See… I - don’t - care. I need that information. There’re people waiting for the product who like to kill relatives of those who don’t deliver on their promises.”

“Right. Okay, calm down. I was heading to the Bureau before your goons stopped me, forced me into their van and brought me here.”

“The day’s still young. You go into work and get me the data you promised me. Info I’ve already paid you for.”

Joe scrunched his lips toward his right cheek, a movement that made his mouth go sideways, giving himself time before speaking. “Look, man, I don’t know what business I have with you, but trust me, I just fought for weeks to stay alive, so dying isn’t on my radar. I will deal with this, I promise.”

Megan heard Joseph’s sincerity and knew Vinnie did too. “Good. Get me that report and things will go back to the way they were. You’ll be raking in millions.”

Megan heard the older man grunt, stomp to the bar, pour two drinks, then pass a glass to Joseph before clinking them together. “Okay. Twenty-four hours to get your shit together. Otherwise, there’s no place you can hide. You will die. Simple. Right?”

Those words made Megan take a chance to lean out to catch the expression on Vinnie’s guest’s face. The shuttered glare spoke for itself. Then Joseph downed the liquor and headed for the door. “Guess I’d better get moving then.”

Chapter Eight

Most days, Joe had no idea what he was doing. His housekeeper Maria Petrov seemed to sense he didn’t feel comfortable with her around. So after taking him on a tour of the house, she kept to her little casita behind his big place. Staying in the background as much as possible while still performing her duties made life more comfortable for both of them, although he often caught her staring at him like a lab worker might inspect a specimen or a caged rat.

Wandering around the immense house, he decided to try opening the biometric safe and wasn’t surprised when it refused to unlock. Between the swelling and scars still visible on his right side, he accepted that the device couldn’t take a proper read. Promptly forgetting about it, he called the special number in his phone for the assistant bank manager, explained his accident and memory loss, and made an appointment for an hour later. Once there, the youngish, nicely dressed, clean shaven businessman recognized Joseph and his pin number andpromised to help him deal with his money situation, setting up new passwords, and showing him which of his keys would get him into his safety deposit box.

Back home a while later, he returned to his desk where he’d earlier located a small, locked drawer. After trying various keys from his key chain, it finally opened. Inside, he found a book of passwords which got him access to everything on his computer. Scrolling through the data showed that most of his bills were automatically paid from his various checking accounts. It also revealed a number of overseas accounts and multiple investments that shocked the shit out of him. Being this wealthy freaked him out. How the fuck could he have so much money and not feel rich?

Then there was his huge closet full of clothes that turned him off. The shoes fit and so did everything else he found arranged in the walk-in that most men might consider utopia. Not him. Instead, he searched through the large collection for older, faded jeans and shirts that he felt comfortable wearing.

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