Chapter 22
22
Cassius
T he upside of our work experience overseas with the Marines is that we stayed in touch with great people—connections across the military and law enforcement who were more than happy to assist us in our search for information.
“This is it,” Nathan says as he pulls over outside a small office building on the east side of the river. “2447 Wright Avenue.”
“Corey says the Mancinis have a local business here,” I tell my brother.
River is out doing some research of his own, meeting with a former member of our unit who now works for the FBI’s Portland Field Office. We’ve got a lead to follow in the meantime, so I look outside the car window and analyze the front of the building.
Plain gray with black-framed windows. One main entrance, plus a narrow side alley with what I assume is a secondary entrance for deliveries.
“It’s supposed to be a stationery supplier,” I add, going over my notes from our friend Corey, currently a part of the mayor’s security detail. “Small setup. They just bring the merchandise in through the back and then distribute it to several stationery stores in the area.”
“They don’t want to draw too much fiscal attention probably.”
“Damage control after what went down in LA.”
Nathan nods once and follows my gaze. “Do we know who’s in there?”
“At least one Mancini, according to Corey and some printouts of legal filings he faxed over.”
There’s not much foot traffic along the street, but no parking spots are available. The whole block is made up of medium-sized office buildings with cameras everywhere. I’ll give the Mancinis credit. When they pretend to be a legitimate business, they know how to comply and cover their asses.
“Christa is at work,” I tell Nathan. “So far, so good.”
“I don’t think she’ll make a run for it again.”
“It would complicate everything.”
Nathan scoffs. “Had you not come around after that whole conversation back at the hospital, she probably would’ve.”
“Can you blame me for getting angry?”
“No. I’m just saying we were all irritated and confounded. I’m just glad we were able to talk about it and move past the issue so we can focus on the important things, such as closing in on the Mancinis before they try to hurt Christa again.”
I only reacted the way I did because I love her, because she means more to me than I ever thought possible. The thought of losing her scares the fuck out of me. I just need to make sure she’s safe so I can tell her all this.
“Come on; let’s do this,” Nathan says and gets out of the car first.
I join him out on the pavement. We look both ways and observe everything in real time, ready for anything to pop—nothing does, so we make our way up the front steps and into the office building.
We’re greeted by a plain white reception desk. The girl gets up from behind it so she can see us. As soon as she does, a warm smile stretches across her pretty face. She can’t be a day older than nineteen by the looks of her.
“Good morning. Welcome to Manny’s Pen & Paper Distribution. I’m Sally. How can I help you today?”
That sounds like a well-rehearsed line. I wonder how often she says it on a daily basis.
“Good morning, Sally. We’re here to see the manager,” I reply with a polite nod.
“Which one?” she asks.
“Mr. Mancini,” I take my shot.
Sally stares at Nathan and me for what feels like too long, her smile slowly fading as apprehension sets in. I can see her frame stiffening underneath that soft red jacket. Her friendly demeanor cools. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No,” I reply.
“I’m afraid he’s not in the building right now.”
She’s closing off, ready for some kind of damage control. I can hear hints of panic in her voice. I slowly lean forward and give her another smile.
“That’s his Lexus outside, isn’t it?” I innocently ask.
She follows my gaze, lips slightly parted, thus giving herself away. “He’s not taking any meetings right now. I’m sorry. If you leave a name and number, I’ll make sure he gets back to you as soon as possible.”
“That’s not going to work,” Nathan chimes in. “Tell you what, Sally. Why don’t you tell us where his office is and then go take a quick bathroom break. Nobody needs to know you let us in. I promise.”
“I… I can’t do that,” she says with a trembling voice.
“You’re terrified of the guy,” I conclude, feeling my eyes widen with genuine astonishment.
“Please, just leave a name and number, and I’ll—Hey!” She panics when Nathan heads straight toward the elevator.
I move to stand in her way. My towering height and size are enough to get a clear message across. “Have a seat or go to the bathroom, Sally. Either way, we’re going in,” I tell her. “Where is his office?”
Finally, she relents and takes a few steps back. “End of the hall.”
“Thank you.”
We walk down the hall and enter Mancini’s office. He turns around in his swivel chair. He’s talking on the company’s landline.
“Yeah, they just came in, Sally,” he grumbles. “It’s fine. I’ve got this.” He hangs up and gives us both a nasty look. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’ll be the one asking the questions,” I say. “Are you Vince or are you Constantine? According to the public filings, there are two of you currently employed here in top management. So, which one are you?”
I get a good look at him: He’s tall, mid-thirties, with dark hair and green eyes—typical of the Mancinis, from what I read in their online profiles. They don’t post much, but when they do, they love to show off their wealth. He’s not wearing a suit, though, just jeans and a black leather jacket over a dark shirt.
“I’m gonna ask you again,” he says, his tone dropping by a few degrees. “Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing here?”
“Cassius Hawthorne.”
“Nathan Hawthorne.”
“What do you want?”
“Answer my question first. Which Mancini are you?”
He chuckles dryly. “Which Mancini have you got a beef with?” he asks. “I know we’ve got a thing for married women in my family, but we’re not all dogs.”
He’s testing my patience. But Nathan beats me to it. He takes out the note Christa received after she was driven off the road and shows it to him. “Is this yours?”
The guy reads it. “Whoa, that sounds nasty.”
“Is this yours?” Nathan asks again with a clipped tone.
“I’m Vince,” he finally concedes. “But I don’t know what that message is or who wrote it. I had nothing to do with it.”
I clear my throat, holding back a mocking laugh. “Please, we all know that’s bullshit. You followed someone into Portland, a former employee from Perry-Sage. It’s all over the wire.”
“Again, I tell you, you’ve got this wrong. I’m just here to assist my cousin Constantine with the day-to-day operations of this stationery supply company,” Vince replies.
“When did you get to Portland?” I ask him.
“About a week ago. Why?”
“Are you sure?”
Vince flashes another cool grin. It makes my knuckles itch. I’d like nothing more than to punch it off his face. “Gentlemen, whatever this is, I’m not playing.”
“Christa Campbell.” Nathan plays the high-risk game. We talked about it. We have to rattle this fucker somehow. “You followed her here.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
Either he’s a terrible liar or he wants me to think he’s a terrible liar, but the heightened pitch in his voice tells me he is, in fact, lying.
“Vince, let me put it in layman’s terms before my brother starts going into the technical details,” I say just as Nathan straightens his back ever so slightly. It’s enough for Vince to notice how hard my brother’s suit works to keep all of that muscle mass and pure fury contained at this point in the conversation. “We know who you are, who you’re affiliated with, and what you’re doing in Portland. We know about your family and your businesses, both legal and not-so-legal, and we know you’re looking to hurt someone for what happened in Los Angeles with Perry-Sage.”
His mask drops for a moment. It’s all I need to recognize the brutal side of this man.
He can tell we’re not playing around, so his demeanor changes. Slowly, he gets up from his chair but it fails to make him look bigger than Nathan or me. We have him at a physical disadvantage, and while it’s not enough to get a mobster like Vince Mancini to cower, at least he understands that coming after Christa won’t be as cut and dry as he might’ve thought.
“I think it’s my business what I’m doing in Portland, not yours,” he says.
“Normally, I would agree. But you’re harassing someone we care about, and it’s going to stop,” I reply. “Whatever you’re after, it’s better if you just cut your losses and back off.”
He chuckles nervously. “Oh, really? Or what?”
Nathan gives him a wry smile. “Or else you’re going to find out what it means to fuck around and find out.”
“This is our city. You may be somebody over in LA, but our ancestors were among the founders of Portland. We’re not some pencil pushers you can scare into a corner. A simple google search should tell you that much,” I add.
Vince looks at me and smiles a rather cold, unsettling smile. “I have a score to settle with some folks. It would be better if you didn’t get in the way. I know who you are, Mr. Cassius Hawthorne. I can only imagine what you saw while you were fighting on our behalf overseas. But this is America. It’s different here.”
“Consider this your only warning,” I reply. “Back off. Leave her alone. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to show you how we dealt with what we saw when we were fighting on your behalf overseas.”
Without another word, I motion to Nathan to follow me.
We leave Vince in his office and head out of the building, fully aware we have eyes on us from every possible angle. I spot the cameras recording. I see the Mancini goons disguised among the office mice working there. It’s a front for one of their money laundering businesses for sure, and now Vince knows we’ve got eyes on him, too.
“We have to put him under surveillance. You know that, right?” Nathan mutters as we get back in the car.
I look back and see Vince watching us from his office window. “Yes. We’ll be discreet about it. I think Jace and his crew can handle the assignment. They’ve been making a pretty penny out of their domestic private security business since they came back from their last tour.”
“They’re local, right?”
I nod slowly. “Yes.”
“Let’s do it,” Nathan says. “Whatever it takes, man.”
“I’m worried this will grow into something much worse,” I warn my brother.
He gives me a long, dark look. I know the shadows in his eyes. I’ve seen them before, years ago, when we were in the trenches together. “We can agree on one thing,” he says. “The three of us. We love her.”
“Yes, we do.”
“And we’re going to do everything in our power to keep her safe and happy.”
“Yes, we are.”
“That means we might have to operate outside the scope of the law at some point,” Nathan continues. “I’ll drop a line to my Federal buddies in the meantime.”
I let a heavy sigh roll from my chest. It doesn’t make the sullen ache go away, though. “I suppose it has to get worse before it gets better.”
“A hell of a lot worse if Vince Mancini intends to go all the way with whatever he’s planning,” Nathan replies. “You know, I just thought of something. River made a good point earlier.”
We’re driving back to town now. I know these streets by heart. This is my domain. My turf. And the presence of sewer rats like Vince on my turf brings out the worst in me. I fought hard to keep the people I care about safe. I did that overseas. I didn’t think I’d have to do it here, too.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“If we can figure out who Vince Mancini is and what his personal beef is with Christa, we might be able to understand what his plan are,” Nathan says. “I mean, it could be anything. Just pressure, pure psychic torture, or some personal revenge. Or maybe he’s trying to box Christa in so she can work for their family without any Perry-Sage-like intermediaries.”
“Learning his motive could help us identify his endgame.”
“River is already looking into that.”
The more we know about the enemy, the easier it will be to neutralize them before they can do more damage. Christa is the ray of sunlight I wasn’t sure we’d ever have in our lives. After everything we’ve survived, after everything she’s gone through, I’m honestly in awe of how the higher powers brought us together.
There’s a method behind the madness.
All we need to do is fight harder and smarter than ever before to keep her safe.