Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Maybe it was the Irish accent. Every Irishman in Philly’s got a little sentimentality about the old country. Or maybe it was how effective Crag and his brothers were at stealing vehicles and breaking them down into parts. Whatever the reason, my father decided to pull some strings and use his burgeoning sway with the cops to keep Crag’s jail stint on a very short side, and when Crag got out, the whole Maguire group joined up with my father’s outfit, and the rest is history.
Except it’s not history. It’s still happening. That’s the thing, history doesn’t repeat, but it echoes. Because the DA that went light on Crag was Donnell’s father, and now Crag’s son Lorcan and Donnell are thicker than muddy blood.
The Maguires still live in a row home off Washington Avenue. The neighborhood’s seen better days, but they refuse to leave. Seamus leans against the hood of his truck and frowns around us before nodding down the block. “I’ve got about fifteen men lurking around, just in case.”
“We won’t need them.”
“You really think the Maguires aren’t out to put a bullet in you?”
“They’re not that stupid.”
“Come on, Donnell and them are tight. If he’s against us, so are they.”
I shake my head. “Got to give them the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise, we’re going to start driving around this city killing absolutely anyone who looks at us wrong.”
Seamus glares at me. “Not a bad idea.”
“Easy for you to say. I’m the one that has to clean up your damn messes.” I head to the door and wave him off when he moves to follow. “I’m good. I’ve got this one myself.”
He grunts, obviously not happy, but this is tricky business. If I don’t do it right, I’m liable to turn a bad situation into something even worse.
Lorcan himself answers the door without me having to knock. He’s clearly been waiting. “Got one of those new Ring cameras,” he says, grinning manically. He’s got the same look as his old man Crag did: messy, thinning hair, a wrinkled-up face, a gravelly voice from decades of smoking. A nice and loud echo of the past.
“I’ve been meaning to install those at our place.” I follow him inside. The interior is warm and comfortable. Despite the way the Maguires have slowly fallen out of favor and onto hard times, they’ve kept up appearances.
“I bet you’ve got more than a few cameras already.”
“Just a few.”
“And some very watchful eyes.”
“Well armed, that’s for sure.”
Lorcan laughs but there’s no humor in it. He takes me into a sitting room at the front of the house. There’s already whiskey served on a tray and a young man’s on the couch in the corner, looking very stiff and uncomfortable.
“You know my boy, Rory.” Lorcan introduces his son, another hard-faced Irish young man, though this one must have a bit of his mother in him. His hair’s curly, shaved close at the sides, and his eyes are a deep brown. I don’t know him well, but I put him in his early twenties.
“Thanks for visiting us, Mr. Whelan.” He shakes my hand and has a firm grip. I like that he’s being formal. Shows respect.
“I appreciate you having me.” I take a seat across from the Maguire men and accept a glass. The whiskey’s decent but I don’t throw it all back.
“Times are hard right now.” Lorcan sighs noisily and shakes his head all pious and frowning. “Your father passing is a real blow. He was a good man. Saved my father’s life back in the day.”
“The two of them always got along well.”
“My old man always said your father was the sharpest knife in the city. The way the Whelans have been these last thirty years, I suspect he’s right.”
“You’ve done well for yourself too.” I gesture at the decent furniture and the comfortable room.
“Not as good as some, but still good.” Lorcan’s too proud to admit that he’s unhappy with his family’s station in the organization. “But we don’t need to do this dance for long. I’ve got nothing but respect for you, Declan, and for your whole family. Was that Seamus out there I saw?”
“That’s right. He’s keeping an eye on the street for us.”
Lorcan nods like that’s totally natural, but he knows how these things go. If the head of the Whelan family’s street muscle is nearby, that means the whole house is surrounded by loyal guns. Lorcan might have ten men hiding behind a door with rifles and bad ideas, but he’s now very sure that none of them will survive for long if they start pulling triggers.
“We always appreciate his hard work.” Another sharp smile from Lorcan. His son, Rory, shifts uncomfortably, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, and says nothing. “Let’s get into it then. You want to talk about the future, I expect.”