Read Online Gibson & Clarke (Failed Justice Series Book 2) by Rick Santini - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rick Santini
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of deep amber liquid and wondered how she would get it all down.
“To a long and prosperous relationship, and fuck the Feds.”
Mr. Yeung did not smile. He felt Black Jack was a self-centered asshole. He also felt Mr. Renaldo would win far more cases than he would lose. He knew Jack loved to talk, would get along famously with Sonny, and in the end, all roads led back to him. It was a win/win/win situation. He was concerned if Ms. Clarke could handle the pressure. Her face gave her away.
Sonny decided to outdo even himself with the no-menu dinner. There were five waiters for the five diners. Each stood respectfully behind the chair, waiting and watching. When a glass was half empty, it was immediately refilled. When rolls or butter was needed, it was replaced. As for the antipasto, there was no end to the cheeses, spicy sausages, and imported meats.
The main course, not surprisingly, was veal and pasta and cherry tomatoes. There was no hurry; they were going nowhere, at least not until Sonny had finished what could have properly fed a half dozen grown men.
As they all were leaving, Sonny called Jack aside. Billy and Marta stood by the front door as Jack threw his arm around Sonny as if they were old friends. The conversation was animated and took at least four to five minutes. To say it was strange and completely out of place would have been a gross understatement.
Finally, they embraced and parted.
Once back in the limo that had picked them up, Marta could not restrain herself. She didn’t care who heard it or reported back to Sonny.
“What the hell was that all about? What did he tell you, and what did you reply?”
Jack looked at Marta and mentioned something about how pleased Sonny was that Jack was on the team and was sure they could all work well together.
“That’s it ? That’s what took five minutes, an embrace like you are long lost brothers. Bullshit. There was more going on than a simple thank you.”
Billy Jo tried to interrupt. It did no good.
Black Jack smiled. “You’re both my partners—you’re entitled to know everything. Sonny asked me if I was Sicilian, where my parents were born, and if I still had family back in the old country.”
“And?”
“And I told him yes. By the way, the veal was excellent. Sonny said he would send me a few pounds so I can make some saltimbocca.”
Billy shook his head at Marta. The conversation was over. Change the subject or shut up.
The balance of the ride back home was in dead silence, each trying to remember exactly what had been said.
Marta was having little luck. I don’t like it, not one damn bit. Something is going on, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit back and be quiet.
Marta was the first to be dropped off, and she wasn’t sure how long Billy Jo would be with Jack in the limo. A phone call or text was out of the question. She knew she wouldn’t get a hell of a lot of sleep that night. She thought about calling Rik. The thought lasted at least ten seconds. She had enough problems for one evening.
She did not need another.
***
The limo driver did not have a great memory, nor did he need one. There was a voice-activated microphone installed in the lining of the roof of the back seat. Every word was recorded and played back to Sonny. He may have looked big and dumb, but not a thing got by him. He knew his little conversation would disturb Marta. He was counting on it. She was obviously the weakest link in the chain. Or so he thought.
***
The only person not surprised at how the evening ended was Xiang. He could have almost predicted it. Black Jack and Sonny were cut from the same cloth. They came from the same place. He was sure they would bond. He was sure at some point Jack would confide in Billy Jo, and he was sure everything would come back to him. He was betting on it. No one would have ever guessed how much.
***
“You pissed her off; you know that, don’t you?”
“That was not my intention.
“To a long and prosperous relationship, and fuck the Feds.”
Mr. Yeung did not smile. He felt Black Jack was a self-centered asshole. He also felt Mr. Renaldo would win far more cases than he would lose. He knew Jack loved to talk, would get along famously with Sonny, and in the end, all roads led back to him. It was a win/win/win situation. He was concerned if Ms. Clarke could handle the pressure. Her face gave her away.
Sonny decided to outdo even himself with the no-menu dinner. There were five waiters for the five diners. Each stood respectfully behind the chair, waiting and watching. When a glass was half empty, it was immediately refilled. When rolls or butter was needed, it was replaced. As for the antipasto, there was no end to the cheeses, spicy sausages, and imported meats.
The main course, not surprisingly, was veal and pasta and cherry tomatoes. There was no hurry; they were going nowhere, at least not until Sonny had finished what could have properly fed a half dozen grown men.
As they all were leaving, Sonny called Jack aside. Billy and Marta stood by the front door as Jack threw his arm around Sonny as if they were old friends. The conversation was animated and took at least four to five minutes. To say it was strange and completely out of place would have been a gross understatement.
Finally, they embraced and parted.
Once back in the limo that had picked them up, Marta could not restrain herself. She didn’t care who heard it or reported back to Sonny.
“What the hell was that all about? What did he tell you, and what did you reply?”
Jack looked at Marta and mentioned something about how pleased Sonny was that Jack was on the team and was sure they could all work well together.
“That’s it ? That’s what took five minutes, an embrace like you are long lost brothers. Bullshit. There was more going on than a simple thank you.”
Billy Jo tried to interrupt. It did no good.
Black Jack smiled. “You’re both my partners—you’re entitled to know everything. Sonny asked me if I was Sicilian, where my parents were born, and if I still had family back in the old country.”
“And?”
“And I told him yes. By the way, the veal was excellent. Sonny said he would send me a few pounds so I can make some saltimbocca.”
Billy shook his head at Marta. The conversation was over. Change the subject or shut up.
The balance of the ride back home was in dead silence, each trying to remember exactly what had been said.
Marta was having little luck. I don’t like it, not one damn bit. Something is going on, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit back and be quiet.
Marta was the first to be dropped off, and she wasn’t sure how long Billy Jo would be with Jack in the limo. A phone call or text was out of the question. She knew she wouldn’t get a hell of a lot of sleep that night. She thought about calling Rik. The thought lasted at least ten seconds. She had enough problems for one evening.
She did not need another.
***
The limo driver did not have a great memory, nor did he need one. There was a voice-activated microphone installed in the lining of the roof of the back seat. Every word was recorded and played back to Sonny. He may have looked big and dumb, but not a thing got by him. He knew his little conversation would disturb Marta. He was counting on it. She was obviously the weakest link in the chain. Or so he thought.
***
The only person not surprised at how the evening ended was Xiang. He could have almost predicted it. Black Jack and Sonny were cut from the same cloth. They came from the same place. He was sure they would bond. He was sure at some point Jack would confide in Billy Jo, and he was sure everything would come back to him. He was betting on it. No one would have ever guessed how much.
***
“You pissed her off; you know that, don’t you?”
“That was not my intention.
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