Page 18 of Blood in the Water
He didn’t really need to ask. The adolescent girl he’d known in the neighborhood, the one with flushed cheeks and shiny red hair, had been replaced by a woman who looked ten years older than her age, a woman with deep creases around her eyes that probably hadn’t come from laughing and ellipses around her mouth that said she smoked at least a pack a day, and had for the last decade.
“Hanging in.” She looked him up and down. “You look good.”
He grinned. “I bet you say that to all the guys.”
She laughed and he and Will headed for the back of the building.
“Jaysus. This place makes me depressed,” Will said as they passed through the curtain into the VIP Room.
“I know what you mean.”
The lights were off in the room and Nolan slowed his steps, letting his eyes adjust to the semi-darkness as he looked for Seamus, but when he made out the figures sitting at one of the faux marble tables in the center of the room, it wasn’t Seamus, but Baren and Sean.
Nolan forced his expression blank, his voice steady. “Baren. Sean.”
“Hey,” Sean said, affecting an air of nonchalance betrayed by the squeak in his voice.
Baren took a drag on his cigarette. He spoke withoutlooking at them. “Have a seat.”
He and Sean occupied the two chairs around the table, forcing Nolan and Will to slide onto the velvet couch on the other side. Nolan was glad the lights were out. He didn’t want to speculate about the stains on the upholstery.
“Where’s Seamus?” Will asked.
Baren’s eyes didn’t display even a flicker of interest. “You’re talking to me.”
Will clenched his hands under the table, and Nolan knew he was forcing himself not to lunge at the guy. Will liked to play the easygoing neighborhood punk, annoying but harmless, but Nolan had seen him beat a man to an unrecognizable pulp with his bare hands for looking at him wrong.
Nolan looked at Baren and waited.
“How’d your surveillance of Nick go?” Baren finally asked.
“He worked all the places on his route, collected money, stopped for lunch at Johnny C’s, made a few more collections, made the drop-off at the Cat, went to his girlfriend’s house for the night,” Nolan said.
“You watch Johnny C's? And the girlfriend’s place? Make sure there weren’t any unusual visitors?” Baren asked, tamping out his cigarette.
Nolan knew what he was getting at: if the Syndicate was looking to recruit Seamus’s men, they would most likely approach them in the course of a regular day, make the meeting look coincidental, or try to talk to them in private at home.
“Sat outside the girlfriend’s apartment until after three in the morning,” Nolan said, happy to cover for Will, who was probably still seething over Baren’s disrespect.
Baren sat back in his chair. “You think we have a mole?”
The question took Nolan by surprise. “I don’t know.”
“You have a guess?”
“I don’t know enough about the inner workings,” Nolan said. “I keep my head down, get the work done for Seamus, collect my paycheck.”
Baren turned his eyes on Will. “What about you?”
Will’s eyes flashed. “How the feck should I know?”
Baren narrowed his eyes, a nerve jumping in his jaw as he looked at Will. “You’re not very smart, are you lad?” His voice was low and hard, his blue eyes flinty.
Will sat back, spread his thighs like he was perfectly relaxed. “I do all right.”
Nolan’s body tensed, ready for a fight. He wanted to tell Will to stop being an asshole, that this was the opposite of what they were supposed to be doing, which was laying low, gathering information, waiting for word from the Syndicate about their next move.
Fear wafted off Sean in waves, his body tense as he looked down at the table. If anyone knew how far Will could push Baren, it was probably Sean.