Deep(4)
Before he’d gone, though, he’d thrown out a nugget of intel that could finally break apart this band of assholes—he’d given them a way to flip or neutralize Church’s main ally.
“What do you mean, he gave us Jackie Stone?”
“Landers gave us the location of a big handoff with Stone and his supplier. We interrupt that, and we compromise the fuck out of Stone.”
Ben winced at Nick’s language but didn’t comment on it. “His supplier—you mean drugs. Out of where?”
“You know where, Uncle, and it’s no matter. I’m not suggesting we take on his business. I know your feelings, and I share them. I’m saying we disrupt it.”
At his side, Fred leaned forward, making his big belly rest on his legs. “It’s risky, Nick. A lot of our relationships with law are balanced on our agreement to stay clear of drugs. Even being anywhere near a drop like that could hurt us.”
Nick breathed deep and kept his eyes on the don. “Uncle. If we can get in the middle here, there’s a good chance that one of two things will happen—either the Colombians kill Stone for us, or Stone needs us to get out of trouble. The balance of Church’s power goes to hell either way. We could end this—end Church and end any question of who runs New England.”
Ben’s eyes moved from Nick’s, and he stared at a point between Nick and Fred for several seconds. When he spoke, he did so without shifting his focus to either man. “When’s Stone’s meet?”
“Ten days. Near Danbury.”
“That’s a long way from home. Not our neighborhood.”
“Take it to The Council. Ask for help from the Marconis. It’s in all the families’ interest to shut Church down. We’re already taking heat from the others for not getting control of it yet.”
At that, Ben’s eyes returned to Nick and blazed, but Nick was undeterred. “It’s true, Uncle. Eighteen months, Church has been biting at our ankles, and he’s done us real damage. Innocents are getting hurt. Our businesses are taking hits. My father is dead, and they shot up his funeral. The other families are watching, and they know that if Church wins, if he takes down the biggest family in The Council, it changes their games, too. The families have been at peace and allied for more than ten years. They are our friends. We need to ask for their help before they become our enemies.”
Nick could feel Fred’s tension, but he didn’t turn to him. He kept his eyes on his uncle. But Ben didn’t speak. When he sat back in his deep desk chair, his eyes still locked with Nick’s, Nick tried once more. “Uncle Ben. You have my love and deepest respect. Always. I know it hurts you to see that the world is not what it was. But I know you know I’m right. I know this is why you brought me to your side. Because I see. I’m telling you now what I see. We have to fight the war we’re in.”
At last, Ben nodded. With a heavy sigh that told Nick his uncle was finally beginning to crack under the pressure of the life he’d made, the don turned to his consigliere. “Fred. Make the calls. Ask to convene The Council.”
~ 2 ~
Beverly Maddox glided, stretching one arm and then the other past her head, kicking her legs to propel herself through the water, turning and lifting her head at steady intervals to take swallows of air. As she got to the wall of the pool, she rolled, twisted, and pushed off, headed back the way she’d come. She loved the sensual perfection of swimming laps—the slide of the water over her skin, the heat coursing through of all of her muscles as they worked in perfect sync, the centering rhythm of breath and movement.
One of the draws of the condo she’d bought at the end of last summer was this pool—not Olympic-size, but rectangular, laned, and deep. It was heated, and the condo community opened it in April and kept it open through September. Since they’d opened it this season, Bev had enthusiastically started a new regimen. Four days a week, she got herself going out here, doing at least thirty laps.
Her ‘courtyard’ unit, substantially less expensive than the ‘seaside’ units, overlooked this pool, so she always knew when it was empty and free for her to come down and do her thing. And sometimes, when she was home alone in the evening, she’d sit on her balcony and stare down at the illuminated water, letting the rippling blue glow send her into a contented trance.
As she reached the wall again, she took hold of the side and pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the pool and catch her breath. As she lifted her goggles off her head, she heard the yip of a small dog and blinked her eyes clear to see Carlotta walking down the sidewalk, past the fenced pool. Jester, her little white puff of a dog, pulled happily on his leash.