Chapter 21 #2
He spotted Pery coming from the back, followed by a young woman. She nodded at Julian and draped a hanging bag over the back of his booth before joining Pery at the bar. Then Regge slid into the seat across from him.
He grinned as he pulled a folder of documents from his bag.
“I left the cuff links in the safe. When they look, it won’t seem as though someone ransacked the place.
Your passport’s in the satchel.” He nodded to the floor.
Julian looked down to see his leather satchel next to him.
He picked it up as Regge said, “Hunter got some of your disks?”
Julian looked inside to find a few albums. “Thanks. That’s unexpected.”
Where’s Hunter? Nigel’s worry flooded through his mind. Julian gritted his teeth. “Hunter?” he asked.
Regge’s brow furrowed, his mouth moving as he searched for words.
“He’s fine,” Pery said as he brought Regge a beer. “He’s taking a few days off.” With a nod, the wolf left them alone.
I hope he’s all right. He’s so kind, and Regge is worried about him. See how he fidgets?
True. Regge kept the smile, but his fingers picked at the edge of the folder, his thumb drumming on the table. “He picked out some of your clothes for you too.” His head jerked over his shoulder at a hanging bag.
“Any trouble?”
“You didn’t say anything about a key card for the elevators. Or that your office would be locked.” Regge’s tone was irritated, but he relaxed. “Two guys interrupted us, apparently to do a search of their own. I think one was called Shorty.”
Julian nodded. “He’s following orders from up north then. Either to find me or kill me. Can they identify you?”
Regge shook his head. “They never saw us. And Skylar can take care of herself. So. There’s this.
” Regge pulled a couple of bundles from the pack, sliding them across the table, under cover of a folder.
Hidden from view, the bills waited for Julian’s hand.
Two packs of hundreds, amounting to ten grand each. He didn’t touch them.
“Thank you. But if I make a deal with the feds, it’s doubtful I’ll get to keep this. They’ll probably seize everything.”
“I don’t understand the entire workings of the constabulary here, but Cobb is a good man. He will do right by you,” Regge said.
Julian noted the odd language again. Who did this kid think he was? Shakespeare?
“He may not have the pull to keep me out of prison.” Pulling a sheath of documents from the folder, he slid them across the table.
“This is the warranty deed to the hotel. It’s in the name of my holding company, Westridge.
It’s not connected to Castenada. Maybe we can make a deal for it? ” He looked hopefully at Regge.
Regge will own the hotel? That’s wonderful. He will be a good steward for her.
Julian smiled at the blond. “Nigel says you’ll be a good steward for the hotel.”
“He’s listening?” Regge’s cheeks tinged pink as he studied the document. “What kind of deal?”
“I need money. More than this.” He patted the stack of bills. “If we can make some kind of deal before the feds get here, I can keep it off their radar and the cartel’s.”
The young man made a slight clicking sound with his tongue and ran a hand across his forehead. “I can do three hundred thousand. Which is a huge amount to me, but I know in this day, it’s not much.”
It wasn’t as much as Julian had hoped for. But he couldn’t afford to be picky at this point. Three hundred invested in cryptocurrency or in a Swiss account would get him a long way. He wasn’t sure he could trust the feds to keep him safe. “I know it needs a lot of work.”
Regge agreed. “It’s a daunting task. I know nothing of running a hotel.”
Hunter will help him. Tell him to get Hunter.
Julian didn’t relay the message. Instead, he put his fist on the center of his own chest and rubbed a small circle.
Nigel’s bubbly excitement was making him dizzy.
Almost instantly he heard a tiny sorry, and he settled.
Julian took a deep breath. “You strike me as someone who doesn’t let a lack of knowledge stop you. ”
The flash of Regge’s grin caught him off guard. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
“It’s not.” Julian tapped the document. “Get the money and I’ll sign over the deed. Keep it simple. We will need a notary though.”
A great wave of energy washed over the bar, throwing both to the sidewall in their booth. Julian swore. Regge laughed. After a few minutes, a stream of folk trudged out of the bar.
“It’s a common occurrence here,” Regge explained. “At least twice a month.”
Julian held up his hand. “I don’t really want to know what happens in the basement.”
That disarming grin sparked again. “Fair enough, mate.” He extended his hand across the table. “In my time, deals were sealed with a handshake.”
Julian smiled. “It’s not quite that simple. But for now it will do.” He shook Regge’s hand.
“Now tell me. What is a notary? And how do we get one?”
Julian’s smile erupted in a quick laugh. He liked this kid.
See? I told you.
Regge left the bar as the night came to a close. When the last patron had been ushered out and the door locked, Abraham took the seat across from Julian. “Regge tells me you need a notary? You’re selling the hotel to Regge?”
“The deal’s on the table until I’m taken into custody.” He squinted at Abraham. “I may need a proxy—someone to complete the paperwork in my stead. Someone trustworthy.”
The big man smiled. “I think I can arrange something.”
Julian continued to stare at Abraham. Nigel noticed his hesitation. Abraham is on the up and up. He’ll do right by us.
He nodded and Abraham left the booth to make a call.
“You just think he’s hot,” Julian mumbled. Eventually he came back with a sheath of paperwork and a older man with a notary seal. Within minutes, Julian had signed everything. His money would be deposited within three days. He hoped he survived long enough to spend it.
After the deal was done and the notary left, Abraham went to close out the registers. Julian stepped outside for some air. He needed to clear his head. It had been a weird day.
Pinkie’s neon sign blinked a soft pink glow over the damp sidewalk.
Rain had stopped an hour before, and amber light through the windows cast his silhouette onto the wet pavement.
Ducking back into the safety of shadow, he breathed in the murky air of river water and diesel fuel, but he felt like he was free for the first time in a long while. It was likely to be short-lived.
Are we okay? Nigel’s voice trembled.
“Yes. We’re okay. For now.”
Hearing a splash, he looked down the empty street. A block away, a delivery guy rode his bike through another puddle. His red trucker’s hat looked like blood in the streetlamps. Julian stepped back as the bike made its way toward the bar.
“You work at the bar?” The guy didn’t wait for an answer. “I got a delivery.” Stopping his bike, he pulled a pizza box from his front container.
Julian took the box. It looked harmless enough. Maybe Abraham had ordered a pizza for the end of the night. With a casual salute, the guy sped away leaving Julian alone.
The pizza box was cold in his hands. Well, even warmed-over pizza was okay. He grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. The box corner caught on the door and landed on the sidewalk. Great.
He bent to pick it up, flipping open the lid to check on the pie.
“Holy shit!” He jumped, the smell knocking him back a step.
Oh my. That’s not pizza. It’s oh. It’s a rat.
Way to state the obvious, Nigel.
Who would deliver a dead rat disguised as a pizza? Is this a joke?
Julian looked around, peering up and down the street as he stepped farther into the shadows. “It’s not a joke. A warning.”
They knew where he was. Enough to find him at Pinkie’s Bar. His chances of the feds protecting him had just tanked. He dashed back into the relative safety of the bar, taking a second to throw the dead bolt lock on the door.
“Abraham!” He ran toward the hum of the dishwasher, finding Abe coming in the back door. “They’ve found us. You got to go.”
“Us?”
“Me. The cartel delivered a message. And they’ll unalive anyone in the way. Which puts you and this whole place in jeopardy.” He let out a sigh. “I’m sorry for this whole fucking mess.”
“It’s okay. Cobb called. He’s on his way with someone from his office. Just sit tight. This place is warded. They can’t cross the threshold.”
“I don’t know what you mean by warded, but really?
Did you not hear me? If I even look like I’m talking to the feds, I’m a dead man.
You plan on being here the rest of your possibly not-so-long life?
No. Once I move on, they’ll move on too.
” Julian patted his jacket, noting the packets of money he’d stashed.
Walking back out to the bar area, he grabbed the bags Hunter had packed.
“Stay away from the goddamned windows.” He pushed Abraham ahead of him into the narrow hallway.
“If I’m gone, I’ll have a fighting chance.
And you will too. Think of your customers. Your friends.”
Abraham said nothing. He stood there, just inside the back door. Finally he nodded. “I’ll explain to Cobb. Take care.”
Julian pushed at the door. Juggling his bags, he paused to hold his hand toward Abraham. “Thanks man, I owe you.”
Abraham flashed a smile. “I owed you. Now we’re good.”
He heard the lock click into place behind him as he strode through the parking lot. Halfway down the alley, Nigel piped up in his head.
Are you sure we can’t stay? Why is your heart rate up?
“No,” Julian muttered. “We can’t stay. We have to run.” He kept to the shadows, rushing away from the bar. His only chance was to get moving and stay moving.
Alone? Nigel asked in a shaky tone.
“Just you and me, kid. Just you and me.”