Page 129 of I’ll Be Watching You

Jack Angelhart

Jack and Luisa walked into Marconi’s. It was late Saturday morning and only a few patrons sat at the bar watching college football.

Once they had the name of the bar, Tess pulled the business records and found that the establishment was owned by Salvadore Marconi Enterprises. She also pulled other businesses and holdings. If he wasn’t here, they had other places to look for him.

They had no evidence that Sal Marconi was involved in anything illegal. The coaster in Joe Carter’s house was a connection, but nothing he could be arrested for. Still, Jack had questions, and if Sal didn’t answer, that might be answer enough.

Jack approached the bartender, a large guy who looked more like a bouncer. He had two detailed, full-sleeve tattoos, and looked at Jack with cold eyes.

“Sal Marconi,” Jack said.

“Not available.”

Jack slid over his business card. “Give him this.”

“Not available.” The bartender continued to wipe out glasses without even looking at Jack’s card.

“His brother-in-law was just shot and may die. His half sister is at the hospital. And I need information.”

The bartender didn’t say anything. He nodded to another man in the bar, who came over, retrieved Jack’s card, and walked through a secure door that read Staff.

A minute later, the bartender picked up a phone that blinked but didn’t ring. He put it down.

“You can go in,” he said and motioned toward the door. It buzzed open.

Jack and Luisa entered a dark and well-appointed second bar, with four poker tables in the center and several high-tops around the edge. A sleek wood bar was empty of people. Only Sal and the large man were in the room. Sal sat at a table; the man stood by his side, glaring at Jack.

“You have five minutes,” Sal said.

“Where is Peter Stockman?”

Sal didn’t say anything.

“I don’t have time to play games,” Jack said. “Stockman shot Roger Maddox and he is in surgery. I also know that Maddox hit Stockman, and Mildred has a ridiculous story that she didn’t know why Stockman was there with a weapon. You and I both know that Mildred Maddox is neck-deep in this Neurovantix fraud, but at this point, I can’t prove it.” Yet, Jack thought. “But Peter Stockman is wounded and a threat to my family. I need to find him today.”

“Hypothetically,” Sal said, “if I knew where he was, I would go after him myself. For hurting my family. Because, hypothetically, if Stockman is a threat to your family, he’s also a threat to mine and everything we have worked for in the last four years.”

He said it pointedly, and Jack knew exactly what he meant: That he was looking to kill Stockman because Stockman could turn state’s evidence against all of them.

“We’ll find him,” Jack said.

“May the best man win. Go.”

Jack had more questions, but Sal wasn’t going to tell him anything.

He and Luisa walked out.

“What do we do, Jack?” his sister asked as they walked to his truck.

“Find Peter Stockman.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

He got into his truck and called Margo. “Where are you?”

“Cal and I just arrived at the office. What happened?”