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“What’s up? Al, do you have any idea what the fuck has happened?”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “Maureen is dead, and I’ll have millions.”
“No. She changed her will before you left. She filed a new will, Al. Patti told me, and I was able to find a copy online. She left every damn penny to the children’s hospital. All of it.”
Al just stared at his friend, unsure of what to do. He’d made a promise to the brotherhood that he’d be leaving millions to them. He stood and went to the lockbox in his bedroom. Pulling out the copy of the will, he realized it had been dated a year ago.
“I thought this was the one,” he whispered.
“She changed it the day before you left. It’s filed. There’s nothing we can do. You’re going to have to find another mark,” said Mike. “You know the rules.”
“Yeah, I know the fucking rules. How was I supposed to know that she’d change her damn will? Shit!”
“Look, there are plenty of women here that are looking for something. Now, you’re the poor grieving boyfriend who’s lost his mate. They’ll be clamoring to get to you.”
“I’ll figure something out. How are things with you and Patti? Is she ready to commit to something?”
“Well, I just got fucked and got a new Rolex,” he smirked. “I haven’t asked her to commit to anything. I want to play this one carefully. What are you going to say to Charlie?”
“I’ll tell him the fucking truth. It’s not like we can predict what these women will do. I’ll find another one. And when I do, I’ll nail her down as soon as possible.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“We need to go back and get another day under our belts,” said Noah. “We learned a great deal by being out there, and I think the women will go back and tell the others.”
“I don’t like how close that man got to Julia, Ruby, and Mama,” said Gaspar.
“We were all there to protect them,” said U-Jin. “You have my word that no harm will come to them.”
“I know, brother. It’s just that these guys are playing for keeps. They have no qualms about killing women for money, jewelry, property, anything. I just think it’s all shitty, and I want to stop it.”
“Mr. Gaspar?” said the sweet voice of Spencer. His faithful companion, Nigel, was at his side.
“Hi, buddy. We’re in a meeting right now. Is this important?” he asked the boy with a smile.
“I think so, sir. Nigel and me were watching television in the cafeteria this morning. We like the political channels and watching all the information about congressional seats. It’s pretty cool.”
“It is pretty cool. But is that important, Spencer?”
“Yes, sir. There’s a man running for Congress in Georgia. His name is Charlie Gates. Everyone is predicting he’ll win by a landslide and that he’ll be the next name for president.”
“Alright. I’m still not following, Spencer.”
“Charlie Gates is a retired Atlanta police captain. He was head of their union, became a leader in the national police union, and he owns a restaurant and bar called The Shield.”
“Holy shit,” muttered Nine. Spencer and Nigel laughed.
“We thought that too,” smirked Nigel, “but we can’t say that. We figured it was important, so we did some research for you. Captain Gates had a very high success rate in the department, but he was also investigated by Internal Affairs six times. He’s not married. He doesn’t have any kids. That seems weird.”
“Buddy, that is weird,” said Fitz, their adoptive father. “Did you learn anything else that you could share?”
“Uh, well, promise you won’t get mad?” asked Nigel. Fitz laughed. That usually meant that the boys investigated something they weren’t supposed to.
“I promise,” smiled Fitz.
“We looked at his bank account. Charlie Gates is the primary owner of multiple retirement homes, but he doesn’t use his real name. It’s under the name of his company, PFPJ.”
“PFPJ? What does that stand for?” asked Nine.
