Read Online Cash Landing by James Grippando - Free Book Online Page B

on the men’s watches was probably just as outrageous.
    No wonder he’d pulled a gun.
    Ruban’s cell rang. He took the call while walking back to his car. It was Savannah’s uncle—Pinky.
    â€œWe got a problem with Marco.”
    Ruban stopped on the sidewalk. “What now?”
    â€œI was just watching the noontime news. The cops found the delivery truck by the river.”
    â€œDamn it, Pinky! Marco’s only job was to supply the pickup and then ditch it. You hired him. You said he could handle it.”
    â€œDon’t put this on me. It was your idea to put the pickup inside the delivery truck and put everything on the freighter. Marco was just in charge of execution.”
    â€œHow hard is that to execute?” Ruban said, his voice rising. “Now it’s all fucked up!”
    â€œRelax, all right?” said Pinky. “They didn’t say anything on the news about finding the pickup. That’s gone. Maybe there wasn’t room on that freighter for the delivery truck. But if the TV news got it right, there’s a bigger problem. They found bloody chains inside the delivery truck. And somebody’s finger.”
    Ruban froze. “Shit. Is it Marco?”
    â€œThey didn’t say.”
    â€œDid you ever get hold of him after we talked Thursday?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œSo you still got his money?”
    â€œYeah. Still got it.”
    Ruban started toward his car again, as if walking might help him think. “Where is it?”
    There was silence on the line. Then Pinky laughed and said, “Where it’ll be safe. We settled this the night of the split. You hide your money, I hide mine.”
    â€œThis isn’t yours. It’s Marco’s. I’ll hold it.”
    â€œWhat, you don’t trust me, bro?”
    Ruban unlocked his car, and before he could answer, a homeless man approached from behind.
    â€œHey, my man. Don’t I know you?” He was holding a sign that said “Dog Bless You,” which was either his attempt at humor or “Exhibit A” in his trial for public intoxication.
    Ruban waved him off, climbed behind the wheel, and locked the door. “Pinky, if Marco’s toast, we need to split up his money.”
    â€œWe don’t even know he’s dead yet.”
    â€œDon’t be stupid. Can’t you see what happened here? Marco shot his mouth off to the wrong person. They beat him with chains and cut off his finger to find out where he hid his money,and they didn’t believe him when he said he didn’t get paid yet. He’s dead.”
    â€œProbably.”
    Another thought came to Ruban’s mind, one more important than money. “Do you think Marco gave us up?”
    â€œHow the fuck do I know, bro?”
    â€œHe was your friend.”
    â€œHe’s a two-bit car thief I met in prison. Look, all I can tell you is I’m outta here. No way am I going to work tomorrow like everything’s normal. I’m cracking open my vacuum-sealed packs and getting the hell out of Miami.”
    â€œPinky, don’t. We have to hold it together here.”
    â€œBullshit. Your brother-in-law is stuffing coke up his nose and dropping money at strip clubs like there’s holes in his pockets. He’s wearing a target on his chest. Either you get him to tone it down, or I might take some target practice myself.”
    â€œThat’s not cool. Jeffrey is your nephew.”
    â€œHe’s a fuckup. This is the big leagues. There’s a chance Marco didn’t give us up. But if somebody even twists Jeffrey’s fat finger, there’s no chance he won’t give us up. You gotta take control of the situation. If you don’t, I will.”
    â€œDon’t threaten me.”
    â€œNo threat. Here’s the deal. Get fatso under control, and we split Marco’s share. Otherwise, I keep it. That’s all I have to say.”
    Pinky hung up. Ruban tossed the cell