You see, I'd figured out my plan. If that damn letter was in the bank like I suspected, it really came down to convincing her to hand it over to us. Getting her to comply meant playing hardball. That was something I was good at.
All I needed to do was find her mystery man. Then the power would be in my corner.
If Marina wanted the information bad enough, she would have to trade. Hand over the letter, and I'd hand over the location of her would-be-target on a silver platter.
If not, we'd go and kill him ourselves, robbing her of the pleasure.
Her own obsession would be her downfall.
Digging my fist into the top of the towel, I stepped into the hall. My coffee pot was brewing already, the machine on auto-pilot.
It was after eight in the morning. Later than I'd prefer, but the peak time for prowling the street was when it got dark. The hours until then were meant for research. I needed to find out where, exactly, Frank's gang loitered.
My only lead was where Marina used to live. Gangs tended to stay in one territory.
In the kitchen, the glow of my tablet turned the marble counters blue. Marina had said she'd searched for information already. I didn't doubt her, I'd seen the newspapers collecting in her apartment with my own eyes. But there were places Marina wouldn't know to look.
Places I did.
Grabbing a set of headphones from the drawer, I nuzzled the buds into place. The music I chose was classical, soothing. It'd help me focus as I scoured the web.
It took most of the morning, and two cups of coffee, but I found my trail of breadcrumbs.
I'd sent out an anonymous request to buy some cocaine. That took me towards someone willing to sell to me, if I met them at the strip club on Fifteenth and Western.
Surprise surprise, it was on the lower east side.
There was no guarantee that this guy would know anything. But anywhere that was 'safe' for someone to sell something as illegal like coke? There'd be plenty of scum lurking around who could take me further in my hunt.
I didn't hear the knocking at my door. It was the motion of the knob turning that caught my eye.
Blinking, I tugged the ear-buds out just as Marina pushed her way inside. She spotted me, freezing with the key—the one I'd given her—still in the lock. Her expression of shock was comical.
“Oh,” she stammered. “I'm so sorry, I knocked and no one answered!”
Standing, I put the tablet aside. “Are you okay, did something happen?” I asked.
Her pupils flicked from my face, to my nude torso. In just a towel, Marina had quite the eyeful of me. And it looks like she's taking it all in, I mused.
Her appreciation was easy to see, even through her flustered expression. She cleared her throat, yanked out the key and held it up like it explained everything. “I'm seriously sorry. Should I just go? I should just go.”
It was a chore not to laugh at her rambling. “You don't need to go.” I'd reached the wall, turning the lights up in the room. I was no longer lit by just the hushed blue of the morning seeping through my windows. Approaching her, my fingers gently touched the door, pushing it shut. “You broke in for a reason, what was it?”
For once, Marina had out dressed me. In tan pants and a thin, orange and white sweater, she reminded me of a Creamsicle. I wanted to reach out, touch her pink forehead and see if she would melt.
“I really knocked. I swear, I wouldn't just use the key you gave me without thinking.”
“I know,” I said.
She relaxed, looking up at me with more of her typical confidence. “Remember how you sent Kite out to buy groceries?”
The memory had me chuckling. “Yes. I believe he called me 'Mom.'”
Nodding, she tugged at the ends of her long hair. “Well, you forgot to put something on the list. Toilet paper.”
Covering my eyes, I hung my head and sighed. “Of course.” I stared at her through the gaps between my fingers. “I understand. Alright.”
“Sorry if it's a problem,” she said quickly. “I thought you were sleeping. I didn't want to wake you, I figured I could slip in, grab some and just go.”
Picturing Marina trying to out-stealth me... that was funnier than Kite forgetting to take care of his basic needs. “It's fine. I would have answered when you knocked, I just had some music playing.” On bare feet, I padded across the floor and towards the bathroom.
I didn't look back, but my ears caught the creak of her body weight on the floor boards. Marina was wandering deeper into my home. My heart sped up with the possibilities.
“Thanks,” she called out to me. “I really appreciate it.”
“It's nothing!” I spotted myself in the long bathroom mirror. The towel was perched around my middle. My mahogany hair had dried, more tousled than usual. Squinting, I purposefully slid the towel lower, revealing the hard lines of my pelvis and hip bones.
It was a cheap move. So what?
Grabbing an unopened roll from the closet, I carried the toilet paper back to the kitchen. Marina was standing by my tablet, looking away so intentionally it broadcast how she'd been spying. Or trying to.