2. A New Assignment
a new assignment
César
O verwhelmed with the silence, I tap my fingers rhythmically on the arms of the leather chair. I glance at my watch to see how much time has passed when I hear hushed voices outside the door.
“I don’t know about this,” I hear a woman’s voice whisper-shout.
“Bloody hell. You’ve got to toughen up,” another voice counters, and the knob turns.
I whip my head forward as the door clicks and heels clack along the hardwood. Glancing up, I see Dara Hale with her brother, Dax, holding a thick manilla envelope likely containing the details of my next assignment.
Should I be taking on more work at this time? Absolutely not. But here I am.
Hale Whiskey has outsourced me for years. They’re a European-based whiskey manufacturer currently expanding their American distilleries.
I’m often hired for surveilling and blackmail cases, usually for members of their board or to get intel on competitors. Blackmail is strongly discouraged in my line of work as a private investigator, but I tend to bend the law often and the pay is always worth the trouble.
When their uncle Theo launched their Austin headquarters, he was determined to make an impact, hiring me for any and everything necessary to solidify their brand in the States.
I respected him greatly as a businessman, and we developed a good working relationship. That is the only reason I was open to maintaining my contract after he retired. His nephew and niece took over recently, not skipping a beat with assignments.
Unfortunately, some things simply can’t be taught.
Dara speaks first. “Glad you could make it,” she welcomes with a nervous smile, extending her free hand to me.
I quickly shake and release it.
Dax crosses over to repeat that motion, greeting me as well. “Good to see you again, Cesar,” he says.
Fucking gringos.
“César. Repeat after me: seh-sar,” I correct, maintaining eye contact.
Mi abuela always says, “If you want respect, never let anyone mispronounce your name. Correct them every time.”
I keep my eyes locked on him as he shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat. “My sincerest apologies, César,” he corrects himself slowly as he sits at his desk facing me.
His sister comes around to stand beside him, clutching that envelope like she’s afraid to hand it over. There’s tension in the air, and I don’t usually feel on edge around them, but there’s something’s off about these two today.
After twenty or so odd jobs for this family over the years, I’ve gathered they’re ridiculously wealthy and peculiar. They’re also British and can’t be in a room together for more than ten minutes without bickering.
That part I can actually relate to.
The oldest Hale, Dean, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a few times.
He’s a levelheaded guy and a good businessman, but he resides back in London, overseeing their headquarters.
Unfortunately, I am stuck with this one and his very quiet sister, who’s nice but acts like she’s nervous around a big brown man.
I’d much rather do business with Dean than these two, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?
Straightening my spine and rubbing my hands together, I ask, “What’ve you got for me this time? The usual?” Following one of their execs around? Or a potential investor? Blackmailing a contractor?
He shares a look with Dara before focusing on me. “Uhh—sort of, but there’s a challenge with this one.”
“Okayyy…” I trail off with a raised brow.
Dara interjects, her tone uncharacteristically serious. “This job has the potential to be dangerous, and I’d like you to be aware of that before agreeing to anything,” she warns, glaring at her brother.
“They all have the potential to be dangerous when backed—” I start.
“Not like this one,” Dax interrupts with a shake of his head.
“Stop talking in circles and give it to me straight. I don’t have time for this,” I snap, my tone laced with irritation. I eye my watch. “You were late, and now you’re bullshitting me. Tell me now, or I’m out.”
“Of course, my apologies once more,” he replies.
Dara sets the envelope on the desk, pushing it toward me, but I don’t retrieve it.
Dax starts, “There’s a property we’re interested in, and this fellow bidder is making things difficult for us.
We need you to look into their master distiller so we can get them to back out.
Name is Klarke. This family is rather notorious for doing anything to get their way.
We want to avoid any bloodshed, so you’d have to get in and out quickly. Make sure they never see your face.”
Bloodshed? Ay bendito .
“We’d like you to run surveillance and let us know what you find so we can blackmail them into backing out of the deal,” he summarizes.
“And if blackmail doesn’t work? What’s your plan B?” I ask, already curious about these Klarke people.
“Force,” Dara blurts out. “But it shouldn’t have to come to that. Not with our best PI on the case. I-if you still want it, that is.”
“Nobody is as skilled as you are. I’m sure we can avoid anything unsavory,” her brother adds, his words rushed.
They’ve warned me of dangers, possibly putting my career and life on the line, but still haven’t mentioned compensation. I don’t like this shit. My family relies on me financially, and I need to know if this payout will be worth the risks.
I shouldn’t even be considering a new assignment.
Not now. Abuela has stage four kidney failure and doesn’t have much time left.
She wants to be back in Puerto Rico when she passes, and it wouldn’t be wise, especially if I get myself killed in the meantime.
And Mariana will never forgive me if I die before she graduates college.
Yanking me from my thoughts, Dax states, “I understand your hesitation, so we’re offering half a million.“
An incredulous laugh escapes me. “Shouldn’t you be using that money to outbid them? What exactly are you asking me to do? And for that much, it sounds like you expect more than blackmail.”
He shakes his head. “These aren’t the sort of people you outbid. Think about it and call me tomorrow with your decision.”
The fuck does that mean? And just a night to think it over?
“ Alright. Expect a call from me soon,” I assure them as I stand to leave, tucking the envelope under my arm.
“Thank you for your time, César,” he says, coming around the desk to shake my hand once again.
“Appreciate the opportunity, Dax.” Meeting his handshake with the force of my own, I tilt my head to peer at his sister. “And Dara, it was nice seeing you.”
“Take care,” she croaks.
I see myself out and settle into my SUV to find some music to drown out my thoughts. I’m hoping to somehow release the energy of this meeting when an alarm blares from my phone, reminding me of Abuela’s upcoming dialysis appointment.
It also serves as a reminder that this assignment is a bad idea. She needs me. Taking a deep breath, I pull off the lot to head toward her house. Like second nature, I twist the knob to raise the volume, getting lost in the music.
My feet shuffle into the house, and I’m greeted by darkness as I feel around for the light switch.
With a flick, my living room is illuminated, revealing a near sterile home.
I step inside the kitchen where the stove light was already on and release an exhale that feels like it’s pushing the stress of the day out of my body.
Resting the manila envelope on the kitchen island to scour my fridge for dinner, I decide on pollo guisado y arroz leftovers.
My decision window is hours away from closing, so I’ll need to review this file soon.
I warm up dinner, staring down the envelope as if it’s going to tell me what to do while I wait for the microwave to beep. I recount this morning’s strange meeting and the warnings that didn’t set off alarms in my head the way they should’ve.
I’ve taken many assignments with dangerous subjects, and not once have I been deterred. Always doing the job and accepting my check, nothing more, nothing less. But half a million could help a lot . It could cover expenses for Abuela .
Flying back and forth to Puerto Rico to get everything settled for her hospice care hasn’t been cheap, nor will it be when she eventually passes.
She insists on being home when that happens, and work has served as a nice distraction from the inevitable.
Outside of work, I spend as much time with her as I can, trying to make her laugh. I can hear her now, calling me fresco .
Then there’s my sister and her tuition. While these high-profile cases have their challenges that often involve bending the law, they’ve also helped to put her through school, and I don’t regret it.
Crime pays far better than doing the right thing, and I set my own boundaries.
As far as I’m concerned, anything that benefits my family is honest work.
I eat in silence as curiosity fills me about what I’ll find in that folder. Anticipation builds as I fill the dishwasher, and I’m practically buzzing with excitement once the envelope is in my hands as I head to my bedroom.
After changing into sweats, I climb in bed and lean against my headboard.
I retrieve the stack of papers from the envelope that detail all the things I need on the subject, or in this case…
subjects. Elgin Klarke moonlights as the chairman of Divin Distilleries, specializing in whiskey and more recently cognac.
Impressive and all while maintaining as the head of the Klarke crime family, a role he assumed when his mother, Celosia “Cici” Klarke, passed away in 2014.
Elgin married Dorothea Gardner thirty-three years ago, and they have a set of twins, Darius and Deirdre. They reside in Brooklyn and operate mostly in the tristate area, but this new venture has brought their chief operating officer, Deirdre, to Austin.
I scan several clippings of articles about Elgin and his family’s impressively grim history making a name for themselves in white-dominated fields.
Another article I come across links Elgin as a known associate of Angelo Biavati Sr. and Regina Delvecchio (née Biavati).
Angelo, the head of the Biavati crime family, happens to be his brother-in-law.
Regina, his niece, is the newly appointed head of the Delvecchio crime family upon her husband’s recent disappearance.
I remember hearing about this on the news, and can now understand the Hales’ reservations about this assignment.
My eyes catch on a grainy family photo featuring multiple generations of Klarkes surrounded by whiskey barrels. A magazine spread shows a more recent image of Elgin and Divin’s CEO, Darius.
Then a smaller envelope falls from the stack of papers, containing more photos. As I riffle through them, I come across several shots of a woman who’s seemingly unaware she’s being photographed. She must be the disruptor and my “dangerous” subject.
A chill dances across my body as I take her in.
This must be Deirdre, who is…fuck, she is breathtaking.
She steals your attention with those dark doe eyes and media-trained smile.
Her wrinkled forehead and slumped shoulders clearly indicate she’s far from comfortable at this event, and I wonder where it is she would rather be.
She sports a unique piece in every photo that compliments her shapely figure and deep-brown skin, carrying herself as someone who doesn’t wish to blend in. Someone you can’t help but to admire. Assuming she uses that to her advantage, the Hales hired me to cut her off at the knees.
“Deirdre Klarke,” I say out loud, savoring her name on my tongue. Laced with sugar, and I bet she’s anything but.
Dulce .
A buzzing sound snaps me out of my trance. Tanya’s name lights up my phone screen with a text. She’s informing me she has a layover for the night, something we’d typically take advantage of. While we usually hook up whenever she’s in town, it’s never been serious.
I could blow off some steam tonight, but for once, I’m not interested. And technically I am working.
I thumb through the stack, and a photo of Deirdre stops me in my tracks. Her hourglass figure stuns in a backless formal gown, hair pulled back into an updo revealing her big brown eyes, and I relish the idea of those eyes looking up at me.
What a pretty, deadly little thing you are, Ms. Klarke.
Beautiful, troubling, and spoiled.
I’m familiar with her type and can imagine by how flashy she seems, that this’ll be an open and shut case. One week max , maybe two, depending on how clean her dealings are.
Not much about this job reads differently from the others, mafia affiliated or not. Surveil, gather intel, deliver the blow to the Hales, and don’t get burned. Same shit, different case . But a part of me is curious as to what’s so terrifying about this family, specifically her.
All signs point to my decision being a firm no.
Still, I impulsively pick up the phone and dial Dax.
I have until the morning, but I’ll do this now. The line picks up, and he clears his throat.
“I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“I’ll do it, but not for five hundred k,” I grit, leaving no room for argument.
“I’m listening,” he responds calmly.
“One mil. Half upfront, half upon completion. I won’t put my life on the line for less.”
Silence takes over the line, and I’m anticipating him to tell me to fuck off. Never have I requested that much for a job. Maybe I’ve grown too comfortable with these people and their audacity has rubbed off on me.
But audacity is what got them to where they are now.
So I won’t back down. One million, or I’ll pass.
He breaks the silence with a chuckle. “You have got a deal, mate. You’re worth it. Start tomorrow. I’ll wire the payment in the morning. Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I grunt, ending the call.
My eyes drop to her photos splayed across my bed.
What have I signed up for?