Deeper (The Deeper Chronicles #1) (34 page)

Whatever was inside that safe might hold answers Avi wasn’t sure she wanted, but was certain she needed.

“Try nine, one, six, eight,” she repeated.

The men’s attention whipped around at her voice.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” Several clicks of the turning combination lock’s face were heard over Noah’s blustering.

She held her breath while a hand went to her throat. Her mother’s birthday had to be the key to opening that safe. Guilt weighed her legs down, and she sat heavily on the steps.

“Fuck me,” Ro said.

“She was right,” Gavin added.

Noah stooped down. When he stood again, he held an envelope in his hand. “Who’s E. Linton?”

A
n hour later, Ido’s driver pulled into a garage miles from Harry’s home. Stepping out of the car, Ido marveled at the brightly colored house with its wrap-around porch and slate roof. A neighbor walking a dog shouted a greeting as Ido walked up the brick steps. Facing him, Ido sneered. The man scooted down the sidewalk while his pug yapped at Ido’s back.

The people who lived behind the oak door stayed to themselves, and their neighbors gave the silent family the quiet they seemed to crave. For the last two years, a bachelor and his sisters had lived here—that was as much as the neighbors knew.

Darius Sadiki, Ido’s second-in-command, met him at the door. Ido followed behind, walking into the large interior then down a low-lit stairwell. Darius stuck his hand up, twisting the small knob on the lamp scone. Ido took a deep breath, stepping into the heart of his distribution center. Once you were inside, time slipped—no windows were present inside the all-white room, while slender guards casually walked the aisle, with the their fingers close to the triggers of their weapons.

“This is good.”

The large room stretched more than half the length of the old home.

“We’re doing well,” Darius said. “Sales are up.”

Ido smiled. When he had decided to come to New York City two years ago, the plan was to co-opt the heroin market from unsuspecting dealers.

“We want to keep it that way,” Ido said, returning to the present. “Increase the fentanyl in this batch.”

“Remember what happened when we did that?”

Ido grimaced. He had infiltrated an elite clientele who wouldn’t have trusted Higher. So he packaged his own drugs as if they were one of the more well-known brands. Everything had been going well until a celebrity chef died. That one death had brought both good and bad exposure. Harry Manning became his shadow, while clients sought out Ido’s counterfeit-packaged drug.

“Up the dosage.” That would have long-time users believing they were having their first hit again.

“Okay.”

They left the room, clicking the door closed.

“After next week, Higher is going public. Set up a few meetings.” No more masking his superb quality under those that could never challenge him.

“Should I include Adams in this meeting?” Darius asked.

“He won’t be a problem by that time. Is he still being followed?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Ido said.

“One last thing.”

Ido turned back.

“Adams’s people are all over that detective’s house. We can’t get in,” Darius said.

“We’ll take care of Adams and his men, then we’ll get rid of that house.”

“As-salāmu`alayka,” Darius said. He limped over to a nearby seat.

“
Salamun Alaikum
,” Ido said.

Ido faced the opposite direction, taking a few steps toward the door. A whimper of pain halted his exit.

Over his shoulder, he said, “After next week, we’ll go home. Get away from New York’s cold weather.”

“Thank you.”

Ido’s phone beeped on his way out. His young lover had no idea about Ido’s bigger plans, and he planned to keep it that way for just a little longer. He answered the call.

“Are you gonna come over?” The question was followed by a throaty laugh Ido was all too familiar with.

“On my way.”

Just a few more days then he would give his lover an eternal send off.

“This is heavy as hell.” Ro grunted his way down the hall to Noah’s office.

Once they rested the safe on the floor, Gavin and Ro sat in the chairs in front of the desk while Cass hovered off to the side away from the group.

Noah sat heavily in his desk chair. “Let’s make this quick.” The darkness around him was crashing on top of his head. He was out of sorts, missing pieces of information, and that was shit Noah couldn’t allow to happen.

“I’ve tweaked security systems at all of our homes—”

“I don’t give a fuck about security systems, Gavin. What the hell do we know about Ido? That’s what I need to know. If you don’t have that answer, do me and yourself a favor and don’t say shit.” He was on a warpath, and anyone in his way could be a casualty tonight.

Gavin eased back in his chair, muttering, “I need a couple more days.”

“A couple days? For what? This asshole knows our businesses, but we don’t know anything about him,” Noah bellowed. It was times like this he was glad his office was soundproof.

Gavin grimaced then cracked his knuckles. “He’s hard to find, Noe.”

Noah hissed then swung his gaze to Ro. “What are the streets saying?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s impossible,” Cass spat out, moving toward the other men.

“I’m telling you, no one we know knows shit. He may have his own people, or he’s fucking Houdini,” Ro was quick to say.

Silence descended on the room.

“If you can’t buy information, you get shit by any means necessary,” Noah snarled. Money made men tell you what you wanted to hear. Broken bones and well-placed corpses around the city ripped open sealed lips. They always garnered more reliable results; pain was a great motivator.

“Noah.”

He ignored Cass’s warning tone.

Ro leaned forward. “You sure about this?”

Noah cocked his head to the side, his answer clear. A sly grin worked its way onto Ro’s lips.

“I want a guard for Avi.” Even though Avi had known the combination to Harry’s safe and her presence in his life was confusing, Noah didn’t plan on going back on what he had told her in his kitchen a few feet from where he was now. At Cass’s raised eyebrow, Noah said, “There’ll be no end date to those duties either.”

“Well...” Ro grinned.

Gavin gave him a thumbs-up. “Congrats, Noah.”

“Fuck off.” He had no time for their teasing. “If that’s all...” He made to stand, ready to find out who Avi was.

“Not really. Seems right after Sofie’s birthday, Wheeler claimed he had some information to sell.”

Gavin’s words cut through the air.

“Shit,” Ro said, sharing everyone’s thoughts.

Noah sat back down, shoulders rigid.

“I can—”

Noah’s fist rattled his desk and silenced Gavin.

Cass, the voice of reason, spoke in a calming tone, “Now hold on. Let’s at least find out what happened.”

Noah leaned back. “What does the pussy know?”

“Nothing,” Gavin said. “He trusts me. Let me take care of him.”

Noah grunted. His intense dislike for the man just elevated. If Poindexter went to the cops...“What did he try to sell, other than his fucking Sour D?”

“All our Harlem connect shared was that Wheeler came into Lester’s Tavern, got drunk, and started blabbing. Mentioned the fight you both had and how he was going to get you. Before Wheeler drew any more attention to himself, he was put in a cab, then I got a call,” Gavin said.

“That weasel.” Between Harry’s murder, Ido showing up at his office, and now this loose cannon on their hands, Noah couldn’t see straight. “Get your guy down to Envy. I want to have a talk with him.” This time, he didn’t plan on using his fist.

“We’ll need a replacement then,” Cass suggested.

Noah’s nostrils flared and his cheeks flamed. He’d take pleasure in the fucker’s demise—maybe something slow, like keeping him shackled and starving, or fast, like ripping his tongue out of his lying mouth.

“Noah,” Cass yelled, pulling him from his deadly trance. “We’ll need a replacement. Numbers are low.”

“How low?” he growled out, mad with himself that things were spiraling out of control and going haywire, because he wasn’t being Accipiere’s leader.

“Low, Noah.” Ro stretched the words, dragging Noah’s attention to his friend.

“Even our artillery side is down,” Cass said.

Ro held Noah’s gaze; his silence corroborated Cass’s statement about the part of Accipiere Ro oversaw. He dipped his head, sinking lower in his seat. Noah grunted his understanding as more of a response. No one but him was at fault. He was the head and was accountable for the shitty state of affairs at the company. Noah closed out the world.

“Our construction and entertainment businesses aren’t bringing in what we’re used to either. The economy is just shit all around. But people will pay to escape their reality, and they should come to us for that.”

Though his eyes were closed, Noah’s brain whirled. Everything was fucked. There’d always been competitors, and he relished the challenge, because they drove him to ensure his businesses remained superior. But never had anyone challenged him the way Ido had done in his office a few days ago.

“Give my best to Avianna for me, will you?”
Then Ido had laughed, which still grated on Noah’s nerves.
“I sincerely hope she’s not having nightmares over the tragic death of that cop from yesterday.”

Noah needed to get his head out of the clouds, and get back to
his
business. Harry was dead; no amount of wallowing was going to bring his friend back, but he could get his killer. Avi knew things he didn’t, and that would all change as soon as Noah cracked open the file on her. No matter what was going on, losing money was never an option. For the last ten years, he and his friends had been taking over New York City—as the Latin roots of Accipiere meant—and they weren’t about to stop.

Noah stood. “Replace Poindexter.” He looked at Gavin. “Bronx has always expressed an interest. Set them uptown in Swerve for a three-month trial. Tell them I’m being generous by offering a sixty-forty split.” That was more than fair. He was taking all the risks, and there’d be hell to pay if they fucked with his money in his own nightclub. He pointed an unwavering finger at Gavin. “After that, spend every fucking minute finding something on Ido.”