Summary: Some of the guys are planning an evening of fun and mayhem. Choosing Furia as their driver could turn out to be a blessing or a curse for Paulie who planned the criminal endeavor. Will her input help or hinder her first Heist Night?
a/n: As always, love and appreciation for all my readers, and special thank to Chyristis for all her help.
11 Heist Night
-1-
The quartet cruised waiting for darkness to wrap the city up tight. The four-cylinder engine purred brightly. This car was not built to run, but she was solid and Furia knew that the she would be free and clear for the first two runs as Mikey had described them. Of course, Furia really wanted to know what the hell Heist Night entailed, but Paulie guarded his plans like they were a national secret.
"Did Mikey deliver my message?" Furia asked with a glance over her shoulder at the man sitting behind her brother.
"What is it about this that you like so much?" Paulie asked tugging the thermos out of the bag he had brought with him and passing it to the front seat.
"It'll keep me up all night long."
Paulie laughed. "Well, if that's all you needed-"
When Memo turned toward him, the shorter man's mouth stalled. Furia just shook her head and smiled.
"So what exactly are we doing, besides grand larceny?"
Paulie stared at Memo as he detailed the plan to hit a few businesses around town who were paying for protection from the LC, the VKs, and two shops in the westside that the Rollerz had interest in.
"When are we hitting the suburbs?"
"I figured we'd hit close to home first, since things lock up tight earlier out here in the Row. Then hit the museum district before we hit the Rollerz territory."
"That could work." When they stopped at a red light she looked back at Paulie. "Mikey, what did you have stashed for me?"
"I thought big and innocuous would be the best way to go," Mikey said almost as if he were apologizing.
"Just tell me," she prompted, draping an arm over the seats and looking back at him.
The look on his face made her nervous.
"Nordberg, Quasar, and a Zimos are what I could get my hands on this quick."
"Stashed by the fences, I'm guessing?" Furia pulled forward with the light.
"Yep."
She tapped the steering wheel, her mind racing. If anyone catches on, we'll never get out of the suburbs in any of those. A list of cars that might work flashed through her head-Zomkah, Eiswolf, Cavallaro. We need something more. That's when one particular image flashed in her head-black gloss with cheesy orange and red flames covering the nose. Yeah. That could work. She could definitely work.
Digging out her phone quickly she quickly found the name she was looking for. "Javier," she trilled when the line picked up.
"How's things, chica?"
"I need a favor."
"¡Por dios!"
Furia laughed loudly. "It's not that bad. I swear."
"Yeah, right," Javier groaned.
"I need you to find me some American muscle."
"Okay. But what's the catch."
"So little faith."
"What can I say? I'm a quick learner."
Furia just chuckled at him again. "Fine. Catch is-she cannot be factory tuned."
"¡Chigado, mujer! Are you out of your mind? I can't go boosting cars from flagged up racers?" Javier lectured with a low groan.
"Why not?"
"Because I like my huevos where they are at. Thank you very much."
"You're such a drama queen, Javier. I'll get it back in one piece," Furia promised as she wove through traffic leisurely, while the sky darkened.
"You know, I'm starting to think Thunder and Dean-O might be right. You are one crazy bitch."
"Eat me."
"That an invitation?"
"You wish. Now back to the car you're going to boost for me, because I peeled that parasite off your ass in a dark alley."
"Owing you sucks," Javier griped, but she heard him searching through papers, which sounded like a good sign. "What are you looking for?"
"Four doors. Empty trunk. And a specialized engine."
The wordless groan muffled and she could almost see Javier burying his face in his hands. He knew as well as she did exactly what car she needed. The vague description fit one specific whip, sadly it was one that stood out like a sore thumb, but only because everyone knew it and its egocentric owner.
"I need Monica," Furia clarified. With a quick glance at the faces of the men in the Stiletto, she knew none of them were familiar enough with the racing scene in Stilwater to know the car's name. Though, if she said the name Pedro Vu, they would all have wigged out on her.
"Are you high?"
"I. Need. Monica."
"There is no way."
"You worried about her daddy?"
Javier chuckled nervously. "Yeah. And you should be too. If he finds out, he'll hunt us both down and the way I hear it you already have enough heat on you."
"Let me worry about that. I need her. And I'll make sure not to muss the finish," Furia said with a big grin.
"¡Diablo!" Javier replied with a long sigh. "Let me make some calls and I'll see what I can do. I'm not promising anything. Got it!"
"Sí. Yo la tengo, guey," Furia concluded with a big grin. She offered Memo a quick wink as she slid her phone back into her pocket.
"I don't even want to know, do I?" her brother asked. Her smirk made him shake of his head and scrape a gloved hand over his forehead. "¡Hijole!"
The driver clipped the right hand turn into the alleyway, with a gleeful cackle. In part it was a pleased response. She figured Javier would come through for her. He was the man in the Saints who could get anything, but this was a tall order peppered with enough dangerous that he might just balk at the request in the end. Of course, on the other side of the coin if he did manage to grab Monica from Pedro Vu and she messed up that sweet girl, there was not a stack of bills large enough to call off Vu or his Los Carnales dogs.
Pedro was one of their delivery specialists, as Dex put it. Furia also heard through the grapevine that he got bit by the racing bug a few years back and spends his free time driving fast. He was the Carnales' best driver across the board. He also had some of the biggest and sexiest American muscle in Stilwater. Monica was his baby-a tricked out Cavallaro with enough power under the hood to twist the chassis, at least according to Miguel. Her cousin had repaired just that type of damage on Monica and reinforced the frame to keep it from happening again. During the vehicle's stint in Miguel's shop, Furia got her one and only chance to drive Monica and a dark little part of her was hoping for a warm reunion that night.
That car would be perfect for their purposes. It would also give the Saints a little breathing room. Hitting targets in a car that well known would mean that initially the push might be pinned on the boys from the Southside, at least until Pedro Vu was able to convince everyone otherwise, which was a tenuous possibility. Furia was almost certain that if they used that ride to hit a place protected by the Vice Kings, as well as the two under Rollerz protection, Vu might just not be able to recover from the implication. And putting a large contributor to the Los Carnales out of circulation, while shaking up the protection rackets of the other gangs, could just put her back in good graces after the Marina incident.
When she reached the middle of the alleyway she stopped and cut the lights. Leaning back in the driver's seat she picked up the thermos, opening it and taking a quick sip to check the temperature of the café con leche from Paulie's mother's corner café then tossed a glance behind her.
"You boys going to get to work or just sit here?" Furia asked with a little smirk back at the mastermind of this little party.
"C'mon Mikey," Paulie said as he stared at their getaway driver.
-2-
I must have been out of my mind wanting her on this gig. Maybe Dex is right. Furia's trouble; she's got too much to prove. Too much ego. Paulie leaned in the doorway shaking his head as he looked over at the car. Look at her. Feet propped on the dashboard, leaned back in the driver's seat like nothing was fucking happening. Troy must be out of his goddamn mind to have suggested her for this. She is going to get us all pinched, or worse, killed.
"Got it," Mikey said quietly.
"Make sure you get everything," Paulie reminded quickly.
"Do I look like I've never done this before. Jesus, Paulie. Ease back. Fuck."
His nerves were wound tight. Tonight has to go just right. No screw-ups. The canvas of the bag rubbed against the linoleum creating a scuffing sound that seemed to further grate Paulie's nerves and he tossed the bag out the door. Memo's footsteps resounded off the brick, as did the taps on the truck lid. By the time he and Mikey got out, the brother and sister were standing on either side of the trunk.
"Memo, grab the door," Mikey called as he dropped a heavy box into the Stiletto and pushed it to the back of the trunk.
Furia slipped into the driver's seat and Mikey hopped into the spot behind her. Paulie would have preferred a seat in the front but when you decide to being a strong arm the size of Guillermo Guerrero you have to give up certain creature comforts, because there was no way he was going to be able to fold his massive 6'4" frame into the backseat of any convertible, even the rather roomy Stiletto's.
Paulie's heart sped up as their driver seemed to see no real need to put distance between them and the first place they hit. She steered them slowly toward the second mark. Every stoplight Furia hit seemed to put Paulie more on edge.
Calm down. She's got to be doing it just to rile you.
He looked around the car. They all seem so relaxed. Talking and joking like we're on some damn joyride. What the hell is wrong with these people?
At the next light he shifted slightly, rubbing his hand across his mouth as his knee bounced.
"Relax, guey," Furia said with a laugh.
"Relax? Do you have any idea what we're doing out here tonight?" Paulie said, grabbing the seat in front of him.
"You know. I'm really not sure. Are you Memo? Mikey? We're just cruising right? Because looking like we just ripped off some joint and driving through the streets like a bat out of hell for no reason that would not look suspicious at all. That would not draw one shred of attention, now, would it?" she asked, glaring back at him.
"Dios, Paulie," she sighed as the light turned green and some idiot behind them laid on the horn.
"Yeah, chill, man," Mikey muttered as his hand caught Paulie's before it could pull the pistol.
Looking up into the steel blue eyes of this punk kid, Paulie realized he might have been wound a little too tight. If Mikey had not grabbed him, there would be need for the reckless driving he had heard tale of from some of the crew. But not because Furia screwed up-it would have been all on him.
Get a grip Paulie. Seriously man. You're losing it.
-3-
"Where the hell is your sister at?" Paulie growled as he paced and puffed angrily on his third cigarette in less than ten minutes.
Memo shook his head in exasperation. "How this works is they seed a car in the area. Not right fucking next door. She has to ditch A then pick up B. Chill the fuck out. She's not going to flake on us," the large man assured.
He could not help but feel a little insulted at the insinuation that Paulie was making about his sister. Guerrero was willing to let it slide and chalk it up to nerves. This was the first time any of the big guys had given Paulie the nod for anything and he really wanted this little excursion to come off without a hitch.
With the rumble that echoed off the brick, Memo's frown turned upside down. Whatever Monica was, she sounded amazing, he thought as closed his eyes for a short moment to appreciate the almost visceral sensation of hearing that car's approach. There was something about the way his sister ran through the gears of the monster Javier picked up for them; the power under that hood was unmistakable. It almost made him want the Rollerz to put up a fight just to see what this beast could do.
The big Cavallaro's engine seemed to shake the entire alleyway when it fell into idle. Mikey's loud long whistle told Memo that she must look at least as good as she sounded. He took a deep breath and turned. It might have been lust at first sound, but the paint job made him cringe. Her body was beautiful, supple curves and a sexy rear spoiler, with a glance at the tires as he moved to the passenger side door he knew they were racing wheels.
"Why the hell would anyone do something like that to a lady this fine?" he asked his sister when he closed the door.
"I don't know. I'm highly tempted to correct the situation before I give it back, though," she said with a warm smile in her voice.
"Why the hell did you need this car anyway?" Paulie asked, a little bit of sulk still tempering his tone.
"Because a ricer is not going to have the power to carry us and whatever you're hauling out of those shops while being able to outrun… well, anything. So we needed something with a little more oomph," Furia lectured, ending the conversation with a loud rev of the engine that made the younger brother jealous that his sister had the pleasure of driving her.
The way the vibration moved up his spine made Memo shiver. He settled back into the seat and let the rumble wash through him. At the stop light, he noticed his sister's hands moving slowly back and forth along the curve of the steering wheel. He did not even try not to laugh with the realization that there must be something in the Guerrero blood. They all had a thing for cars, especially fast cars with engines that just sang.
"What?" she asked, looking over at Memo like he had lost his mind.
"Nothing," he said with a big grin.
Her smile told him she did not believe him. Though he was fairly certain she would figure it out on her own anyway.
"After we hit the first shop, keep the windows up please boys. Just in case," Furia noted as they turned onto the freeway on ramp.
"This first stop is just a quick shopping trip, some things Dex needs and this place just got a nice selection in stock. It shouldn't make too many waves. But then we're going to Ricardo's Race World," Paulie explained.
"That's where we'll make friends, if we're going to," Mikey noted. "They close kind of late, so there could still be some guys in the parking lot."
"Seriously, Mikey? You couldn't tell me about this before now? We can't roll up on that place with this engine roaring, if the Rollerz are just playing in the parking lot," Furia groused. As she pulled up to the backdoor of Tony's Toolkit, her fingertips started tapping on the steering wheel.
-4-
The car emptied quickly and Mikey went to work on the alarm systems, while Memo and Paulie kept an eye on things. Furia smacked the steering wheel once then looked around for a moment. She slipped out of her seat and jogged across the parking lot.
"Memo, I'm going to take care of a little something for the next stop. Keep an eye on Monica," she said, slapping the keys into his hand. "I'll be back before you guys get done here."
"Where the hell are you going?" Paulie hissed through clinched teeth.
"To fix a problem," the driver replied as she hurried across the open space behind the shop. Using some boxes she climbed onto a dumpster and over the concrete retaining wall. Thankfully there was a vacant lot behind the place, the grass cushioned her jump.
"Can't believe no one said anything. How could these fools forget to suggest there would be a parking lot full of tuners waiting for us," she ranted quietly as she tried not to look entirely suspicious, though she knew that was going to be easier said than done-wearing all black, gloves, and carrying a small black case.
No, she thought, not a goddamn thing suspicious about you at all.
This was the worst neighborhood to try and boost from. Everybody and their brother has car alarms. Plus, it's still early enough for all the kiddies to be awake and aware. When she reached the street she looked both ways.
"What I wouldn't give for a damned apartment complex."
Parked on the street were a sweet Cosmos with the telltale blue flash lighting up the driver's side, a supped up Jackrabbit, and an old beat up Hannibal. "That's the one," she muttered at the beater. It was even parked away from the street lamps. "It's almost like they want someone to steal you."
She tried the door first, but sadly it was not destined to be that easy. The buffed metal did not catch the light, but that was kind of the whole point. Furia tried to make it seem like she was merely having trouble with a key as she searched for the sweet spot.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let me in," she whispered. But the Hannibal fought her. Of course, Furia usually won when it came down to it, and she did this time too. The ignition turned over easier than the door lock.
When she returned to the shop, Mikey was closing the door.
"What's this?" Paulie asked when Furia stepped out of the car.
"Your ride," she said quickly.
Memo handed over the key to the other vehicle reluctantly. She still was not sure how Javier managed that trick, but she was definitely going to have to ask about it when this was all said and done. If she had to hazard a guess, it was probably because one or two of the girls distracted the mark.
"What are you talking about?" Paulie growled.
"Memo's going to drive you to the next spot. I'll follow."
"Are you kidding me?"
"If there's anyone in the parking lot, they are going to hear this engine. But they are not going to hear this little beater, even if they do they will ignore it."
Paulie looked exasperated.
"You want this to go off without a hitch? Then get in the damned station wagon. Memo, call me and let me know what kind of audience we've got."
The three men climbed into the still running family car and sped off. Furia hopped in the Cavallaro and followed part of the way, then she took a winding route that would bring her up on the tuner shop from the back. As it turned out, Ricardo's parking lot was a veritable block party. It was almost too ridiculous.
She knew Memo was on watch looking out for her arrival. She had warned him that he would not hear that sweet engine when she approached this time. There was no way that was going to happen with what was sitting out front of that store. Her brother grinned at her playfully, merely watching as she hopped in the driver's seat and slowed the car to a stop then set the emergency brake.
"How far did you push that thing?" he asked with a quiet laugh.
"Cierra la boca, hermanito," Furia said out of breath.
Memo laughed. "Hell of a plan, Tati," he said lowly as he crossed to the car. He certainly did not want Paulie to hear that sentiment. "Are we going to have to push it back out?"
"It would be the smartest choice." She lifted the trunk lid and leaned against the quarter panel.
"Maybe so but I don't know that Paulie will go for it."
She shrugged, making a little face.
"Go, go, go!" someone yelled.
"Guess we're not going that route," she said dashing around the car.
-5-
Memo caught the bag Paulie tossed at him as he and Mikey rushed out of the building. Then he slammed the trunk closed and as they all climbed into the car. The big engine revved in the deep registers like really good bass, which was soon contrasted by the higher pitch whine of several foreign engines. He expected his sister to head the way she was faced, but the car took off in reverse the way she had come from.
Despite his faith in his sister behind the wheel seeing the wall of headlights moving toward them from front was unnerving. When she whipped the car through the little entrance she had used earlier, the two men in the backseat cursed and complained loudly.
"Seat belts," Furia said in reply as the tires fought for a good grip on the pavement smoking slightly.
The sound of two quick clicks resounded through the car as the heavy backend fishtailed on right turn that put them onto a back street.
"Damn girl. Your ass is heavier than I thought," the driver intoned, speaking to the car. Her words were punctuated by the coordinated movements of her hands and feet as she shifted the standard through the lower gears.
The first few gunshots made them all duck just before the car took another turn.
"What set these fools off?" his sister asked as she fought to recover from the turn.
"Umm," Paulie wavered for a minute.
"Turns out the place wasn't quite closed," Mikey announced for the mastermind.
"Are you serious?" Memo asked, his hand bracing against the roof as Furia hopped a curb and cut through a park, dodging swing sets and the jungle gym.
"Someone must have worked there. A few of them came through to the bathrooms. When we heard voices, we called it."
Furia just chuckled. Memo shook his head. At least he was getting his wish, though he really would have preferred not to experience a car chase through the suburbs in Pedro Vu's Cavallaro with a bunch of supped up foreign jobs filled with drug-addled teenagers with an overwhelming need to prove something. These kids raced for cash, slips, respect. They had no idea what real driving was. They just liked the notoriety and attention-positive and negative.
"Come on, they are gaining on us," Paulie crooned from the backseat, as Furia braked into another turn.
This one was much better than the first several, she was finding the way to deal with the extra weight that had her complaining earlier. Riding with his sister could be akin to a religious experience for Memo, not only because he spent half of it praying for survival, but also because behind the wheel she seemed like a woman possessed by some spirit born of Detroit. She just knew how to make a car do exactly what she wanted and needed it to do. The way she felt out a vehicle was like some sixth sense or psychic connection between her and the car. It was inspiring to witness, or at least Memo always thought so.
Once they got up the ramp and the freeway opened up before them Furia clutched through the gears of the specialty transmission with care and speed. With a glance back, Mikey had himself braced against the edges of the driver's seat, which suggested he had ridden with Furia before and been lectured about putting his knees in the spine of the driver. Turning his attention to the road, the big black monster wove in and out of the sparse traffic, but there were enough other cars on the road to give the Rollerz a bit of an obstacle as well.
"Oh, hell," Furia said.
Memo glanced to his left in time to see her eyes flick toward the rear view mirror again. As he turned back to check their rear, the Cavallaro slid left into the opposing lane of traffic to a loud angry honk from a European sedan, which Furia cut off. When the driver slammed on the brakes the cause for the driver's curse and reaction slammed into the back of the thick-framed vehicle she had just cut off.
"Oh shit," Mikey crooned.
"Does it look like anyone was hurt?"
"Only the guy in the rice," Memo assessed. The little white Zomkah with the gold accents had twisted like crumpled up piece of paper.
Paulie was less considerate of the person in the front seat as he silently pressed both his knees into Memo's back. The mastermind's mouth hung slack as he stared out the front windshield at the oncoming headlights that screamed past their windows to an orchestra of honks and the occasional clash of twisting metal. Furia shook her head and cut back to the right side of the highway at the next opportunity.
Memo could not help but laugh at the little muttered diatribe about stupid drivers and tuners who did could not handle their own machines. The guys in the back had no idea what she was saying as the ramblings were entirely in Spanish. It was something she had done since they were children. Around people she knew did not speak Spanish, she would correct her siblings, or speak her true mind in that language while maintaining a polite façade in English. That trait she shared with and likely learned from their Abuelita.
She veered off the highway and the big engine screamed into the Barrio.
"Are you sure about this?" Memo asked. In this neighborhood, Monica would be recognized.
"Just don't hang your head out the window and it should be fine. The LC will know the car and when they see that sea of blue. The situation might just handle itself," she said, slowing down a little on the surface streets.
-6-
Paulie fell into the chair on the other side of the desk from Troy then leaned forward and held his face in both his hands for a long moment before looking up at the gang's second. The look on Paulie's face said it all. Furia had done the trick, but she must have made the younger man sweat it.
"That well, huh?" Bradshaw asked finally, tapping the filter of the cigarette twice on the face of his watch before twirling it and setting it between his lips.
As the flame licked at the tip, Paulie looked up at him. "You were right. She's fucking good. But damn if she doesn't push."
"She pushes as hard as anybody else."
"I don't know."
"What's the problem? That she made it work? That she contributed? Or that she's a she?"
Paulie's eyes widened and he looked scandalized. "Hey, I have no issue working with girls."
"Woman," Troy corrected.
He knew there was a stark difference. There were girls in the gang, those were usually the ones that weren't canonized but linked up with this or that or several of the guys in the crew. They contributed marginally for the protection and consideration they received by association. Then there were the females who actually were Saints. Those ladies were not girls; they fought their way in and they worked hard for their place, just as hard as the rest of the guys even if no one seemed to take as much notice.
"What?"
Troy waved it off. It was not worth trying to explain his opinion. In part he assumed most of the guys' issues with Furia stemmed from the fact that she was a looker and that she managed to be better than them.
"So anything interesting happen?"
"Turns out the Rollerz are more involved with Ricardo's than we thought," Paulie said, explaining about the surprise intrusion while they were hitting that spot. "But we managed to get what we were there for and a little more. Looks like a lot of cash is rolling through that place."
"Really?" Troy replied, standing and rounding the desk. "How do you figure?"
Paulie reached down and scrounged something out of his backpack. "Accidentally wound up with this in the rush."
Taking the proffered book, the undercover cop laid it on the desk, opening it and examining the sea of numbers. "What is it?" he finally asked.
"A ledger."
The older man eyed the younger. That much I knew already, genius. "You don't say. What's it tracking?"
"Furia said it looks like they're fronting for the Rollerz. You know cleaning their cash?"
"Not very smart, Ricardo," Troy told the ledger as he turned the pages.
He remembered her saying she worked with numbers at some point, so he was willing to trust her initial assessment. This could be something that could get some reaction out of downtown. It might also get them to stop bitching for about five minutes, he hoped.
"Everything else go okay?"
The silence made Bradshaw turn his attention to the man shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He cocked an eyebrow at Paulie when the kid finally looked up at him.
"Kind of."
Closing the book, the crew leader leaned against the desk. "How so?"
"She might have started a little bit of a scuffle between the Los Carnales and the Rollerz."
This ought to be good. "How did she manage that?"
"I didn't realize whose car it was at the time. But she had some of the guys boost Pedro Vu's baby."
Troy choked violently on smoke, coughing a few times before he regained control of his breathing. "She what?"
"Yeah. It was a good call because of the clusterfuck at the race shop. But if either side figures out it was us. That could be kind of a bad thing," Paulie said a little sheepishly.
"Kind of? Gee, you think?"
Fucking hell. What are you thinking, Furia? Pedro Vu was not just a racer; he was Antonio's right hand. Those two idiots were thick as thieves, so close that the joke on the force was that when Antonio Lopez went to the John, Pedro was always there to hold it for him. This is not good. The blowback from this could be hell.
"Who else knows?" Troy asked quickly.
"Memo and Mikey. And Javier. That's who she called. Oh, and whoever Javier used to get Pedro's keys," Paulie said with a shrug.
"She had them steal his keys?" This just keeps getting better. He could now better understand Paulie's initial reaction when he entered the room. Just hearing about it made Troy's head throb.
"I heard the call, she never asked for that. She just wanted his car, even knew Vu calls it Monica. But yeah someone nicked the keys. Which was really convenient in the long run."
Paulie's tone was casual, almost too much so in the older man's opinion. He had been a little nervous, but whatever happened Furia had managed to handle it. Troy could not help but wonder what precisely had the young banger on edge when he walked in; at first it seemed like it was her, but now Bradshaw wondered if Paulie had not been more concerned with how the Saints' lieutenant would respond to things.
"Tell me you destroyed the damn thing."
"Nah." The short dark-haired man shook his head slowly. "We doubled back by Ricardo's before the last hit. It was completely empty. So we tucked it into on the bay's there and tarped it."
Troy choked on smoke again, but only because the plan was surprisingly sound.
"That way it would look like one of the kids from the night before might have hidden it away there. She figured that would make it that much harder for them to explain it away as a set-up. Figured it might also cover our tracks with the robbery, too."
"Christ. That takes some stones." Bradshaw shook his head for a moment. It was risky as hell, but there was no way anyone would think to peg it on the Saints now. Unless-. "Doesn't Ricardo's have a ton of camera security."
"Not right now. Mikey put it all to sleep when we went in. Checked it again before we hid our Easter egg," Paulie explained. "She thought of damn near everything." The kid fidgeted again and looked up at his crew leader. "Makes me wonder why you asked me to put this together instead of her."
"She's still new blood, Paulie. Besides I knew you could do it."
"I don't know. I did not think to seed cars near the fence, and I never would have had the guts to steal Vu's ride. Let alone think to pin it on the Rollerz." He leaned back in the chair and ruffled a hand through his hair. "Truth be told, if not for her you'd probably be scraping me, Mikey, and Memo off the damn freeway."
"Then it's a good thing you were smart enough to tell Mikey to get her."
Bradshaw knew the uncertainty. Paulie had a solid plan going in; he also chose a solid crew, but even that is never a guarantee. He did get lucky that after everything that had happened in the last thirty or so hours that Furia even agreed. Though Troy knew there were a few reasons she might agree to it, namely Mikey, who she seemed to be close to, and her brother.
"I don't know."
Troy stood. "It worked. That's what counts."
Paulie pushed to his feet and grabbed the bag beside him. "Yeah, I guess. So do you want this? Or should I give it to Dex?"
"Take it to Dex. I'm going to keep this book for a bit. Want to see if I can get anything out of it," Troy advised.
"Sure thing, chief."
"Hey Paulie!" Bradshaw called as he reached the door. "Good work. Go get some rest, you earned it."
"Thanks. I will."
Lighting another cigarette, the Saints second sat behind his desk again. He and Julius had claimed the two actual desks left in the building, though admittedly one corner of Troy's was held up by cinder blocks. Even so, it was a damn sight better than the plywood monstrosity Johnny concocted with some construction sawhorses. Dex fared a little better claiming the battered old file cabinets and creating a massive space that allowed him to spread out all his maps and blueprints and whatever the hell else he had tucked away in the crates and cabinets that filled the nook Jackson claimed as his own.
Troy really was not sure how to read what he was looking at. He could see the in and out of it, the movement of funds, but the reconciliation did not seem that clear. Dex could probably see it easier than the undercover cop could, and Paulie had told him that Furia pegged it rather quickly.
Running his hand over his forehead he tried not to think to hard about that last part. Every time he turned around there was something else pushing him at her. He stuffed the ledger in a drawer and tried not to think about it for a moment-more specifically, he tried not to think about her. But nothing seemed to be able to chase away the idea of calling her, of hearing her voice.
It's a perfectly valid reason. She's got a background in this kind of thing. He stubbed out his cigarette and pushed himself to his feet, which quickly set to pacing. And you know her background has next to nothing to do with it. You already got the rundown from Paulie. Dex has the money. The plan went off and was even more lucrative than you could have hoped. This is just foolish. Juvenile indulgent crap, his inner cop voice tried to convince him not to call her, not to ask her to go through the ledger with him, not to make up a logically valid excuse to be around her.
Troy was beginning to wonder what the hell was happening to him. His anger at the station house was founded by misdirected. His loyalty seemed to be less certain than it used to be. And his fascination with this one woman was bordering on unhealthy obsession. And as much as he wanted to, he could not do anything about it; not only because it was specifically forbidden by department regulations, which barely factored into his consideration. He did not want to hurt her; and he could not see a way not to do that given the complexity of the situation. Everything about him except his name was a fabrication, a lie.
He kicked the corner of the desk and stared out the colorful stained glass window brightened by the rising sun. Bradshaw knew he needed to try and find a way to get around this, but nothing had yet come to mind. He pulled open the drawer and grabbed the ledger before leaving the church. Copies were going to need to be made. Part of him hoped that concentrating on investigative procedure might keep his head in the right place, but he did not have high hopes for his concentration.