Page 61 of Filthy Savage
Axe
I spendthe first hour of our trip updating Angel on every detail I learned since my trek to Mom and Dad’s storage locker this morning. By the end of my run through, Angel is in tears and exhausted. She soon rests her head on my shoulder and dozes off. Although I have a splitting headache from the gravity of processing all the facts at once, it helps me to make up my mind about where I’ll go next.
Vincent.
His name can’t be on the list by coincidence. He must have a piece of this puzzle. Kade’s father laid out the scope of events, and sure, it’s logical for a longstanding state politician and an army Colonel to have played a part in a conspiracy of this magnitude. Vincent’s name just does not fit in with the rest. Not when he’s the one who turned up to save me and Nancy on the night of the murders. My eyes are tired from all the driving, but I don’t make a single stop until I’m outside the gates of Vincent’s mansion.
I don’t have to use the buzzer to be let in. Some members of the perimeter security detail are my men from the clubhouse. One of them waves me in and radios a message to announce me at the main house.
Victor is waiting at the front door when I roll up.
We waste little time with pleasantries and introductions. Less than five minutes after arriving, I part ways with Angel so I can grill Vincent privately. A housecleaning staff leads her to get some sleep in one of the many bedrooms upstairs. Me and Vincent retreat into his study.
“I imagine you must think I had some part in this,” Vincent says from his office chair, his usual spot in the room.
“I’m not thinking anything. I’m asking, because I don’t trust anyone as much as I do you, Nancy and Silas. Maybe Angel too, but that’s beside the point. Your name was on that list, Vincent. I would really like to understand why my mother would group you in with a fellow victim and two powerful men who could have orchestrated a the hit our parents overheard, then later, so many years later, returned to make sure their dirty secrets were buried with Mom and Dad.”
“I need to update you on what’s happened since you left your sister’s.” Vincent must register the immediate alarm on my face, because he quickly adds. “Nancy’s fine. They all are. Nothing’s happened to them.”
I press my hands to my temples. “Jeez. Try not to scare the fuck out of me like that, brother. It wasn’t easy ditching that burner phone and being completely out of communication with everyone for all that time. So what’s the update?”
Vincent leans back in his chair. “Simply put, it’s over.”
“What’s over? What are you talking about?”
“Everything to do with the names on that piece of paper, you and Nancy, and Kade’s family. It’s done. No more Los Diablos will be after you, no armed men from secret government agencies are going to swoop in from nowhere in the middle of the night. It’s over.”
I shake my head and start pacing back and forth in front of the armchair I’ve been sitting in. “Are you shitting me right now? It can’t be that simple. First of all, how did all of this go down? Who arranged what, when, where and why? And how are you certain there’s no wild card waiting in the wings for us to put our guards down so Angel or Nancy or the kids can end up in a bad situation?”
“You said you trust me. Do you really? And while you’re thinking about that, consider a few things. How well connected am I?”
“Connected as fuck, last time I checked.”
“Do you think I might know a few people who know a few people who can get out front of this problem and take care of it for us?”
“It’s possible.”
“Okay. See where I’m going with that?”
I nod, and then I shake my head. “No, you lost me there.”
“I’m telling you that I’ll take care of it.”
“Sorry if I’m a little skeptical, but my parents have been dead for close to two decades and somehow, their killers are now after me, Nance, her kids, and the people we care about. I know you kept Nance and me safe all those years ago, but your promise to take care of it isn’t good enough for me.”
“What I’ll say is that we go way back. I’ll also tell you that back then, the line between patriotism and political self-interest was very blurry. My associates and I were able to remind some of these parties that it was in their best interest not to push too hard, so to speak. You’re still with me, right?”
“No, because you’re talking in innuendo and code. It ain’t helping. And really, what I want to know is who were our grandparents ordered to kill, and why?”
“The shortest answer is, do you want to be up all night? Because that is about how long it would take to tell you everything.”
“Fuck. Is there’s an abridged version?”
“No.”
“Come on, man. Give me something.”
“Organized crime intersects with the political landscape. Just leave it at that.”
