Page 12 of Tangled Threats on the Nomad Highway
“Popova? Gregory Popova? What does he want?”Einstein yawned again and stretched his neck side to side. “What’she here for?”
“Figured I’d leave the hard questions to thebig boss.” Alex hooked a thumb towards the stairs. “I’ll go let himin and keep him in the main room until you get downstairs.”
“Good call letting him cool his heelsoutside.” Einstein praised the man’s decision as he stepped backinto the room and snatched open a drawer, pulling a shirt frominside. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
Alex disappeared from the open doorway, andEinstein walked to the attached bathroom. He took a few seconds tosplash water on his face, wiping away the droplets and yawn-forcedtears before he put on the shirt. Back in the bedroom, he yanked onsocks and stomped into his boots; then, just before he walkedthrough the door, he settled his vest on his shoulders. The welcomeand familiar weight let him breathe easier, and by the time he’ddescended the staircase, he’d pulled on his club personacompletely. His brothers might know how vulnerable he was after thedeath of his family, but no way did an outsider need to seeanything other than a perfectly composed member left in charge.
Popova stood near the bar. While Alex wasnearby, it didn’t look like the two were talking, which was good.Alex had clearly exhibited he knew what was and wasn’t acceptable,so that wasn’t a surprise. Popova, though? Total wildcard in thissituation.
“Pooka.” Einstein used the nickname he’dheard Retro employ on numerous occasions. Always when theconversation was either easy or incredibly difficult. It was “Greg”otherwise. “What warrants the invasion of our clubhouse atzero-dark-thirty.” Flashing a smile to indicate no offense, he waspleased when the expression was returned.
“Einstein.” Popova stretched out his hand,and Einstein met it with a meaty smack before clamping on andshaking up and down once. “Well met, my friend.”Well, that’s agood sign.The representative of the mob in Birmingham didn’tcall people his friend often, and it was usually a signal ofcomfort. “I hated to have to wake you.”No apology, nosurprise.Apologies in the mob were symbolic of weakness. He’dheard both Popova and Retro dance with words enough times tounderstand the avoidance. “I’d hoped for Retro, but by yourpresence, I’m assuming he’s unavailable.”
“You tried to call him first.” He didn’tknow for sure, but half of the dance in the information businesswas making informed assumptions. “Him not picking up should havebeen a clue.”I didn’t get an alarm from Marlin, so thatmeans—“Smart idea not going to his home second.”
“My thoughts exactly. My little cousin’shusband is a family friend, but showing at his home unexpectedlyisn’t a tactic a man should employ.” Popova ducked his head,fingers running up the back of his neck. “Not and remain welcome.”He lifted his chin and stared into Einstein’s eyes. “Which is whyI’m here.”
“Do we need privacy for the conversation?”Einstein didn’t shift and would not be the first to break theirlocked gazes.No weakness for the mobster.“Or are we goodhere?”
Popova’s face registered a flicker ofapprehension, and Einstein wasn’t surprised when he dropped hiseyes and offered, “Private would be good.”
“Follow.” Spinning on his heel, Einstein ledthe way to the large office used for outside meetings. The club hada smaller war room that was protected against electroniceavesdropping, but they kept the knowledge of that space close tothe vest, only allowing phone calls in there, no video, and noin-person interviews.
He whistled low, then high, then higher in atonal progression, grinning when he heard the prospect respond,“Got it, boss.”
Retro’s always been a step ahead of everyonein the region.
Using vocal orders versus verbal ones kepttheir guests guessing. At multi-club meetings, he’d heard more thanone wanna-be attempt to utilize the same communication tactic. Theonly one successful so far was the IMC out of Louisiana. Theirterritory might be the full Gulf Coast these days, but the areaaround NOLA would always be their home base. It was important tocontinually update personal impressions and internal responses, sohe wouldn’t be caught off guard by any progression in territory orinformation.
Another Retro tactic, he thought,hiding his grin as he swung through the open door into the officeand stepped to the far side of the table. Popova closed the doorwith a thud, then thumbed the deadbolt installed above thedoorknob. Einstein frowned.
“Not sure anyone other than the prospect isawake, but whatever makes you feel better, man.” He gestured at thetable, pulling a chair away and standing there with a hand on theback. “Wanna sit, or we doin’ this on our feet?”
Popova’s hand drifted to the inside of hisjacket, and Einstein froze. He hadn’t marked the unseasonablefashionwear and hadn’t patted down the man, nor had he asked theprospect to do it. Einstein’s gun was upstairs, resting on thenightstand farthest from the door.Well, shit.
“Might want to go a little slower with thatpull, man.” Tensing, he evaluated his options and settled on thechair underneath his hand. He could lift and throw in a fewseconds, and if Popova’s piece hadn’t cleared his holster by thetime the chair was airborne, it would buy him enough time to goover the table and take the man down.
“What?” Popova looked down, seeminglysurprised. “No.” He lifted his gaze, alarm clear on his features.“No, no. No, man. Nope. Not in the clubhouse.” His head shook ashis hands spread wide in a gesture that had his palms out in aclear stop sign. “Not outside of the clubhouse either. Not in mylifetime. I wouldn’t dare incur Retro’s wrath like that.” He heldup a finger and thumb, folding his other fingers against a palm ina minimizing gesture. “I’ve got something you need to see, man. Notbringin’ the heat to you. No threat here, man.”
“Good to know.” Einstein twirled a finger.“Still, go slow.”
“You got it.” Popova plucked the inside edgeof his jacket to pull it away from his body, folding it back toexpose the interior pocket. Using the pincher he’d made, he dugaround in the tellingly flat pocket until coming out with a pieceof paper. “Here. This is what I brought. It’s a transcript of aconversation my uncle thought you should know about.”
“A transcript?” That implied it wassomething premeditated, if there’d been time to put a recording ofa call or meeting into place. “Of what?”
“He got a heads-up about a meet.” Popovaconfirmed Einstein’s assumption as he let his jacket fall back intoplace. “There’s activity surrounding the Monster Devils.”
Einstein’s muscles locked up, tense andtight enough it was hard to pull in a breath. He managed, then blewit back out slowly, knowing he’d not been able to hide the shiftfrom Popova.Dammit.“Tell me.”
“There’s an outfit lookin’ to leverageScar’s connections. Mafia side of things. They’re lookin’ for a wayto deal with him in his grandfather’s footsteps. Word is Scar can’tbe found, and you and I know he’s being very careful about coveringhis tracks. This—” He shoved the papertowards Einstein. “—is them becomingimpatient.”
Accepting the folded object, he teased theedges apart, smoothing the creases away until he could easily readthe contents.
“Have you read this yet?” He glanced up tosee Popova’s head moving side to side. “Okay then.”Blindhandoff. Huh.Studying the words, he began reading. “Subjectone: There’s got to be a way to get to the asshole. Have you lookedat everything? Subject two: Looked at all his crew, yeah. Subjectone: And his family? You look there? Subject two: Mommy and daddyare removed. They got no gains from the family biz. Waste of timeto follow through there. Subject one: And the brother?” Einsteinstared at the paper, then lifted his gaze to Popova’s face. “Whatbrother? I never heard Scar talk about a brother. Who are thesepeople? Who was at the meeting?”
“No idea on any front.” Popova shruggedlightly. “But this isn’t the first time I’ve heard mention of asecond grandson of Franco’s. It’s come up occasionally, but I neverhad anything to wrap my fingers around when it came to digging.There and gone again, you know?”
“How long have you known the Scarlouccis?Not known about the outfit, but Franco and Scar?” Einstein rakedthrough his memories but found nothing to support the idea of abrother. “I’d have thought Scar would be shouting for his brotherto join him, given how he feels about family.”
