Cadillac Payback: Rising Tide by AJ Elmore (the false prince .TXT) 📕

a show of taking a drink, just to buy a few seconds more to collect my thoughts. Maybe the play will also cover the fact that I spoke without meaning to.

“Bingo,” he says, and points his thumb and forefinger at me like a gun.

Unlike the other families, Abuela's empire is based stateside. She worked her way up in the cartel, she wasn't born royalty. So if there's tension brewing down south, it's an opportunity for her to benefit from it. It's real hard for the other families to move against her, because she controls stateside traffic. If she moves to take more control, she'll be untouchable.

It's brilliant, and ruthless, and so dirty. I hate it as much as I know Izzy hates it, now that I know he's hardly a willing player. As Johnny put it so simply, like me.

That still doesn't explain why she would pair up Jorge and Izzy. When he was around, even before the bust that changed everything, he only ever worked with weed. As far as I know, he doesn't know dick about opiates. Then again, there's a whole hell of a lot I don't know about Isaiah. I always liked it that way, now I'm curious.

“The deal's not on the books yet,” I say. It's not a question, but it should lead the conversation in the right direction.

He shakes his head.

“Too new. Yer boy ain't even been 'round about a week. It don't seem like he's in any hurry to move it along.”

A smirk twists my lips and takes me by surprise. Goddamn this liquor. So I go ahead and voice the thought that bred the reaction.

“Isaiah's never been in a hurry about anything in his life.”

Johnny turns up his beer in an extended chug that drains it. He smacks his lips. His eyes have gone heavy, and he suddenly looks sleepy. The coke must be wearing off. He'll get surly soon.

“You said the possible partners are white collar?” I ask. This meeting is about to end, time for a more direct approach.

Johnny nods, but he's not looking at me. His eyes are roaming the bar. His gaze lingers on the biker.

He says, “Some bigwig from the Gulf Coast of Florida. Guess he's looking to upgrade his painer business. You wouldn't believe the bitch they sent in with your boy. When I say bitch, goddamn mean it. Walkin' 'round like she shits flower petals and fuckin' rainbows. Fine piece 'a ass, though.”

There it is, some informational gold. Izzy didn't come alone. There was no fine looking woman in the hallway at the mansion, but it would make sense that a stranger wouldn't be welcomed into that base. Izzy has been there enough that he's not technically a stranger.

So by the sound of it, Isaiah has become some sort of representative to this mystery uppity pill supplier, a stateside seller who could possibly cut out someone on the other side of the border. It's another long shot, but I have to ask.

“Got a name?”

He snorts like maybe he's hoping there's one last drain stored up in there, and shakes his head shortly. Oh well, he's given me a grand lead. I know a pill dealer or two.

I'm feeling the buzz of bourbon in my limbs. It buffers the sudden change in his mood. I pretend I don't notice his expression slowly become a scowl, and say, “One more thing, do you know where Isaiah is staying in town?”

“Why th'fuck would I know that?” Johnny spits.

“Give me a week or so and I'll have that gun you asked for. If you happen to find out about Izzy, it’ll be sooner. See you around, Rocks,” I say, and leave the bourbon largely unfinished. Johnny can have it. Call it a tip.

Outside, the sky is fading from blue to gray, and the evening air feels like freedom. I draw a long breath, and remind myself that I'll probably never know freedom again. Johnny's words are haunting. You can never really leave. That much is obvious.

As I climb on my bike, I think of Josh. Should I tell him what I've discovered? What about Maria?

There's a tight feeling in my gut at the thought of her. I miss her. Even if we barely talked when she was around. The fact remains, she is warmth to the ice inside me that formed when I failed to kill Derrik. Even when she flirts with Noah, and pretends not to notice that it bothers me, she's magnetic. When it was work, it was an excuse to be at her side. To go to her now would give me away.

I might as well be a hopeless mess. It's only been a day.

Fuck it. I'm gonna get high, and avoid people for the rest of the day. Tomorrow I have two leads to address: someone who knows about pills across the Gulf, and someone who knows about news across the border.

It's a strange notion – either brilliance or stupidity – but something tells me that if I ask Izzy myself, he'd tell me everything he knows. Except I don't want to talk to Izzy.

I check my phone after I kick the bike to life. No messages, no missed calls. One final impulse to call Maria comes, and goes. I pocket the phone and pull away.

Chapter 21 All Hail the Queen

Joshua

It's early evening, not quite dark outside, so the bar is mostly deserted. Our only other company are a couple of grumpy-looking old men with fedoras at the other end. They ignore everything, yet they seem to absorb the surroundings. Probably writers. Everyone in this town is a writer, or a vampire.

Maria sips at her Cape Cod as her eyes roam the décor. This is no Bourbon Street romp. We're posted up in a former brothel, nestled within a haunted hotel. Though it's right in the thick of the Quarter, it's not a hot spot on the tourist routes, and