Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
That skip had originally been pulled in for a particularly horrific case of domestic abuse before getting let out on bail. Because, well, our justice system didn’t seem to give a fuck about the victims of domestic abuse.
Violet had wanted him to know what it was like to be made to be a victim by someone with more power than he had.
She didn’t often bend the rules. But she had her moments. When it seemed appropriate.
“Why would he come to your place instead of one of the other ones?” Vi asked. “I mean, I’m not trying to be insulting or anything.”
“No, that’s fair,” I agreed. It was no secret that there were bigger and, arguably, better private investigation offices he could have gone to. “I guess maybe he didn’t think they would take on his case, given who he is. And maybe what they know will happen to said snake once he’s found out.”
Vi nodded at that, her attention turning to the TV.
And I thought that was maybe it.
Until she spoke. “I think it’s because of you.”
“What?” I asked, tone too sharp, and Vi knew me well enough to read a little into that, judging by the way her brow quirked up. But she didn’t call me on it.
“Yeah, I think it was you.”
“Why?”
“Because he respects you.”
“He doesn’t know me,” I objected. “I’ve talked to him less than a handful of times. And I’ve never been even remotely pleasant.”
“Yeah, but maybe he likes that. You’re no bullshit. And, well, he knows about… our families and friends,” she went on. “He knows you wouldn’t exactly raise a brow at his whole… operation.”
“That’s true, I guess. Except I’m not actually on the case.”
Somehow, though, I knew it wasn’t that simple.
I was too stubborn to let Mike and the guys handle it all.
I went up into my loft after dinner, trying to get some sleep while Vi passed out with the TV on a floor below me since she hated sleeping in silence, but it wasn’t long before I was sitting up, and reaching for my laptop.
It wasn’t easy to find information about criminal organizations. Especially ones that originated in foreign countries.
What I did find out, though, was the finer details about how Andres Alcazar became such a major player in his trade.
He’d murdered the men who’d been running the Soto Cartel.
And prior to that, the Soto Cartel had been notorious. Incredibly violent. Like dozens of bodies a week sort of violent. Guilty parties and innocents alike.
It wasn’t just the leaders who’d been taken out, either. It was all the high-ranking members. Or anyone who the new crew believed would try to go up against them.
“The streets ran with blood for weeks,” one of the articles had claimed.
Then, peace.
Or, at least, the murders of innocent civilians seemed to stop.
Then, all of a sudden, Andres was in the States.
In Navesink Bank, in fact.
As far as I could tell, there weren’t exactly any bodies that linked back to his organization.
He was being more careful here.
Which was smart.
It wasn’t that it was hard to buy your way to freedom, even in the States, but it wasn’t as easy when your racket was drugs as it was if you were in white-collar type crimes.
It took another couple hours of searching before I found the details I was looking for.
Parts of his little criminal empire hierarchy.
It was A at the top.
Close below that were Luis and Marco. And some other guy named Samual.
There were a solid twenty or more other men in his crew, but those were the only ones with names that I could find.
Feeling like I’d at least made a little headway, I closed the lid of my laptop, and finally caught some sleep.
I woke up to breakfast sandwiches that Violet had gotten delivered.
Then I showered, dressed, and headed out, wanting to get an hour or so in on Andres’s case before I went into work and acted like I wasn’t butting in on their case.
Then, after work, I put in another couple of hours.
Shower, rinse, repeat.
For four days.
With no problems.
And also very little progress.
What can I say? The man ran a tight ship. Which you had to respect.
And I knew that if I wasn’t making progress that my coworkers weren’t either.
I wouldn’t lie; I got a certain amount of joy when they walked in at the end of a long day looking defeated, snapping at each other, and putting in long hours even after I left for the day.
To go sit in my car down the street from where I’d seen four of A’s men head into a bar a few towns over from Navesink Bank.
I didn’t see anything.
I didn’t hear anything.
But then my passenger side door was opening.
And A was sliding into the seat.
“Got this crazy feeling,” A said in that deep voice of his.