Page 70 of The Woman in the Hollow
“Mighta had some fun playing with that backhoe before the deliveries started. Got ‘em buried twice as deep this time. For the time being, set up a compost pile over the spot with all the old hay and corn.”
Once things calmed down a bit, I wanted to create some sort of memorial to the guy, even if there was no actual grave marker. Just something to remember a part of our Family.
I hadn’t been lying to Hazel when she’d asked if this kind of thing happened a lot. While, yeah, there was a fair amount of danger involved with being in organized crime, we’d been at this for generations. We had a reputation. We were careful. We didn’t have members of our crew getting murdered.
Sure, we lost men here and there. To accidents, to overdoses, to poor health. But not murder.
Sure, Big Ed was just an associate. He wasn’t even officially in the Family the way a soldier was. But he’d been a fixture for long enough that we all figured he would eventually get a promotion.
That said, he was, well,associatedwith us. That alone should have protected him from harm, let alone murder.
Domenico was right, though. This felt pointed. As far as we could tell, no one else had been targeted.
I had a body in my woods, thousands of dollars’ worth of damages, and an employee had been attacked.
The thing was, more so than anyone else,mybusiness had been stable.
I had my soldiers continuing the work with certain importers overseas and exporters from the area.
We got our cut.
It all went smoothly.
To be honest, though, I’d been focusing a lot on the legit side of the business the past few months. It was possible something slipped by right under my nose.
Sure, that was the reason for having soldiers—to make sure nothing got past us. But they could have gotten just as comfortable as I did, let something slip.
Or, worse yet, gotten tempted by someone else’s offer.
That could explain Big Ed being killed.
Had he seen or heard something he shouldn’t have? Did someone worry he might blab to me, so they took him out?
Fuck.
All I had were questions.
“Dom, I need to be here. I promised her I would be down here.”
“What do you need from me?” he asked, knowing what I was saying.
“I need eyes on Ed’s inner world. Get in his apartment. Get in his phone and his laptop.”
“Under drawers and behind picture frames. I get it. Is this a porn thing?”
“Porn?”
“As in ‘you’ll know it when you see it,’ or am I looking for something specific?”
“Honestly, I have no fucking idea. I just know he’s dead, my place is targeted, and my manager is roughed up. It’s gotta be linked.”
“Got it. Where did Ed live?” he asked, making my head whip up. “What?”
“He lived in the same complex as Hazel. Not the same building, but the same apartment complex.”
“I mean, there are only, what, two of them in Navesink Bank. That’s not weird.”
“No, but it’s another coincidence. And I think there are too many of them to ignore at this point.”
