The Family Business

“I am not interested,” he answered.

“No, I think you should hear this. He’s telling me that we’ve both been played.”

“I do not have time for this!” he raged. “Next time we talk, it will be in the afterlife. And I am pretty certain we’re both going to hell.”

“Wait!” I had to get him to listen before any more blood was shed. “Someone in your organization has been working with the Italians out here.”

“Your attempt to stall and save their lives is futile.”

“Goddammit, Alejandro!” I slammed my fist on the table. “I swear on my granddaughter’s life that I am not lying to you. They’ve played us both.”

I held my breath during the silence that followed, feeling each thud of my racing heart. Finally, he spoke, slowly and cautiously, his voice still full of suspicion. “And you know this how?”

“Just... don’t kill my son. Or the tramp. Call your men off. We need to talk about this, Alejandro.” It was the best I could do. I still didn’t have all the information I needed, but Orlando was claiming Rio had proof.

“You’re not giving me anything, Lavernius. Make me a believer. Make me believe that you are an old, senile fool and not simply a ruthless man who deserves what’s about to happen all around him.”

Orlando slipped me a piece of paper.

“Who is Road Map?” I asked Alejandro.

“Who?” he asked in return.

“Road Map,” I repeated, worried that I’d misread the paper Orlando slid in front of me.

“We don’t know any fuckin’ Road Map.”

I looked at Orlando and shook my head. He understood my message and spoke quickly into his phone to try to press Rio for more information. I imagined Rio on the other end, God knows where, terrified for his life. Of all my sons, he was the least equipped for a situation like this. And it was my fault he was there. A sense of regret threatened to overwhelm me now.

Orlando glanced at me. My face must have betrayed my emotions, because he quickly took control of the situation. He pressed the button to put my phone back on speaker.

“Mr. Zuniga,” he said, “someone there with you is nicknamed Road Map. I don’t know his description, but he’s apparently working for the Italians. He is responsible for our shipment being stolen and, indirectly, for our mistrust of you, sir. He is responsible for my uncle’s death, your brothers, and your son. For that, we apologize, but we were misled.”

“You, whoever you are, are sounding as desperate as Lavernius. And you are a worse liar.” Alejandro’s voice turned ominous. “But at least now I know my son is dead. And so is Lavernius’s son.”

“No!” Orlando pleaded. “It’s not a lie. My brother has proof. Call your men off.”

Alejandro laughed wickedly. “Based on what? My son is dead. There is nothing more we have to say to each other.”

Orlando did not give up. “Please. My brother has a phone. It belonged to Dash’s man on the West Coast. He was working with this Road Map.”

“And why should I care?” Alejandro asked.

“He’s going to call Road Map now.”

“You are stalling for time,” Alejandro said. “But it is of no consequence to me. If you’d like your brother to spend his last few minutes on earth playing this silly game, then so be it.”

Orlando barked into his cell phone, “Rio, call the number now! Do it!”

He ended his cell phone call with Rio, and it was like a knife in my heart. Would that be the last contact any of us ever had with him?

Alejandro’s voice came through the speaker. “Lavernius, this-”

Suddenly we heard the sounds of a scuffle, and then silence. The call was disconnected.

Orlando and I sat staring at each other in paralyzed silence. The future of my family hung in the balance, and we were cut off from all contact with Rio and Alejandro. There was no way of knowing what was taking place on the West Coast. All we could do now was sit and wait.



Harris



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Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books