Chapter Three
"I'm telling you, Joe, this guy is dirty." Heather blew a smoke ring out of the corner of her mouth, stubbing the half smoked ashtray out on the overflowing ashtray. "He's up to his neck in it."
Joe nodded, relaxing against the back of the booth. "What have you got for me?"
"He's a leech."
"That I knew. What else?"
"He's going to run in the election." Heather lifted her coffee cup, leaning forward, smiling over the rim of the cup, looking for all the world like a secretary meeting a friend for lunch. "Joseph de Almino and Francis Barton are financing the campaign."
"Anything else?"
"He's…wary of them. He's not scared of them. Not exactly." She frowned, taking a mouthful of coffee. "He knows he needs them and he knows enough to keep on the right side of them." She glanced at her watch. "I'd better be getting back." She stood up, lifting her purse.
"Okay, Heather." Joe put his hat on, angling it low on his head. "Be careful."
"I will." She started to walk away, then hesitated. "Has there been any word from her?"
There was no need to ask who Heather was talking about.
"Nothing yet."
"She's good, Joe. She'll be okay." Heather adjusted her bag, waiting to if Joe would say anything else. He stayed, slumped in the corner of the booth, staring blankly into space. "I'll be in touch."
She walked out of the diner, leaving Joe with his dark thoughts.
xxxXXXxxx
The man smiled at her as she handed him a cup of hot soup, revealing blackened teeth and gums. He shuffled off, clutching the soup, joining the crowd milling around the hall.
Lily smiled back, glancing around the room. The Rev McNeil walked slowly, unerringly around it, slipping easily through the knots of people. He stopped with every group, speaking a few words with them, leading them in a brief prayer.
She looked away quickly. It wasn't the Rev McNeil she was looking for.
She found them easily enough.
Standing together, at the end of the hall, huddled in their own little circle, talking quietly amongst themselves. Every now and then, one of them would glance around the hall, checking the progress of Rev McNeil around the hall.
She had learnt their names quickly enough. James Harmon. Matthew Patterson. Peter Magee. And Ryan Patrick.
The Rev McNeil's right hand, with his own group of apostles. Nothing happened in the Church of the Repentant Sinner without his knowledge, without his say so. Without his permission.
He frightened her.
Lily looked around the hall, trying to find a reason to get closer to them, to hear what they were discussing so intently, their voices low, cutting underneath the rumble of conversation in the hall.
She felt his eyes on her, burning into her skin like a brand. She forced herself not to jump, not to look around. Just to keep working. Just ignore his gaze wandering across her body.
He frightened her. And he knew it.
xxxXXXxxx
"Darnell! My man!" Michael gripped his hand tightly. "How are things hanging?"
"Low and lazy." Darnell shrugged, smiling, his gold tooth glinting. "my girl doesn't complain. Are we set?"
His boss nodded. "All set for tomorrow night. Just hang around the docks after the end of your shift." He took a long drag of his cigarette. "Sam'll show you what cases we need unloaded."
"How does he know what cases to unload?"
Michael paused for a second, staring at Darnell with narrowed eyes, cigarette held in the corner of his mouth. Darnell swallowed hastily, plunging ahead into the gap, trying to cover his mistake. "Just so I know what to do."
Michael held his gaze for a second longer, then laughed and clapped Darnell on the back. "Don't you worry about that! Sam knows what to do. You just follow what he does, and he'll keep you right."
"Okay. How many of us are on?"
"Why do you ask questions like that?"
Darnell grinned, ruefully. "I promised my girl something nice. Just wanted to know how far it's going to be spread."
Michael laughed again. "You, Sam and a couple of others. Don't worry, Darnell, this'll be well worth your time."
xxxXXXxxx
"Any word?"
Marcy shook her head. Joe bit back a curse and stalked past her, slamming the door of his office behind him. He threw his hat onto the couch and sank into his chair, tilting it back, pinching at the bridge of his nose.
She was just a kid. She was good, and she had guts, but she was just a kid.
His phone squawked. Eyes still closed, he stabbed at the speaker button. "Yeah?"
"Joe, I got Tim on the phone. He wants an update."
Tim. If he hadn't brought this case, if he hadn't needed things done so fucking quickly, then he wouldn't have to put Lily in so deep, would have had time to put a decent play together.
"Joe? Are you there?"
"Yeah. I'm here. Tell Tim he'll get an update when I've got something to tell him." He hit the disconnect button, leaving his office in silence.
xxxXXXxxx
Heather slipped back into the office, moving quietly, easing the door closed behind her.
"What are you wearing?"
Frank Mulholland's voice echoed around the deserted office.
"Oh yeah. I love it when you wear that. You look so sexy wearing that."
Heather glanced around the office and tip toed over to his door, moving silently on her toes. Grateful that she had learned to move quietly in such uncomfortable shoes. She stepped to the side of his door, listening carefully.
"Are you going to wear that tonight? Are you going to be a naughty girl?" His breathing grew heavier, more erratic. "Is daddy going to have to spank his naughty little girl?"
Heather crept back to the door of the office, opened it and slammed it closed. She heard, even without meaning, Frank Mulholland scrambling in his office, hanging up the phone.
Somehow, she didn't think he had been talking to his wife.
xxxXXXxxx
"What are you doing here?"
Lily stiffened. Suddenly conscious of him, standing behind her. His breath warm against the back of her neck, raising goose bumps on the sensitive skin.
His body behind hers, pressed against her. Looming over her. Cutting off any hopes of escape.
"J-j-j-ust looking for a bad." Her voice shook and she hated herself for the weakness.
Like a shark, he went for the kill. "Just looking for a bed?" He ran his hand across her trembling stomach, rising up to cup her breast. "Well if you wanted a bed, Lily, all you had to do…"
Lily closed her eyes at his touch. Trying to stop shaking, trying to control her rush of fear.
"Ryan?"
Suddenly his hand was gone, the pressure against her body eased. She opened her eyes, looking around.
The Rev McNeil stood in the doorway, his sightless eyes fixed unerringly on them. "Ryan? Ryan, are you there?"
Ryan stepped back from her, his eyes still fixed on her. "Yes, Reverend?' His voice thick with lust.
"I need your help with something."
"Okay, Reverend." Ryan took the blind man's arm, guiding him back into the main hall of the church.
Leaving Lily alone, her body still shaking, trembling from his touch.
End of Chapter Three.