Page 99 of Alonzo

Family fortunes are always rising and falling in America, remember? And we were suddenly on the rise. All we had to do was shut up and do our jobs.

Which seemed like a pretty cool deal.

Diablo is staring at me. Like he’s waiting for me to say something.

I don’t know what to say except for the truth. “Phoebe—Tara—she’s here. But I guess you already know that. Because you went to see her in Fort Collins. What was that all about?”

I didn’t mean for it to come off the way it sounds. Which is a mixture of jealousy and anger. But it does.

Diablo narrows his eyes. “Because suddenly people were looking into her background in Long Beach. And I wanted to make sure everything was OK. The more important point is this: How the fuck do two girls who grew up three thousand miles away from each other, end up seeing things they shouldn’t about the same operation? And then, years later, end up here, the very week we’re on a job? Explain this to me.”

“I can’t. We sent Rosalie to Colorado because the FBI contact told us to. How did Tara end up there?”

“Same, I guess. I don’t know what happened to her after that night in Long Beach Harbor. All I know is that the FBI made me a deal. So of course I took it. As far as I knew this was just part of the plan. The FBI had our backs for decades. How was I supposed to know something was off?”

“I’m not blaming you, Diablo.”

Quint adds, “Who was your contact in the FBI, Diablo? What was his name?”

“Not a him. A her. Special Agent Madrid.”

“Madrid.” I try and think if I’ve ever met an agent called Madrid. “No. I don’t know her.”

Diablo turns in a circle and runs his fingers through his dark hair. “I’d never heard of her either. And she looked young, man. I’m talking like barely out of high school. But she had the badge and the power to get a private meeting with me in the fucking lockup. And when the FBI walks into your interrogation room, turns off the cameras, and says ‘I’m gonna make you a deal and all you have to do is shut your mouth and keep doing your job,’ you don’t question the messenger, ya know?”

“Dude,” I say. “Preaching to the choir, man. According to my dad, that’s how it happened the first time too.”

We all take a deep breath and exhale as we share an uneasy look.

Quint speaks up first. “Something is wrong.”

“Ya think?” Diablo asks.

“Hey!”

The three of us turn to see Zach Boston walking down the dock towards us. Quint and I trade a look that says, We really don’t have time for this asshole right now.

But he’s here. And that means he has to be dealt with.

So I smile at him. “Hey, Zach. What’s going on?”

He stops just a few paces from us. “What’s going on? That’s my question for you. I know what you’re up to, Alonzo.” He’s looking at me when the words come out. But then his gaze finds Quint and Diablo in quick succession.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, Zach.”

“Don’t fuck with me. I might just be the younger cousin, but I’m part of the fucking family, OK? I’m in. One hundred percent in.” He glares at me like we’re enemies. “You get me, Lonz?”

I seriously have no fucking clue what he’s going on about.

“You hired Tara to investigate Jesse?”

Aw, hell. “Look, Zach. It’s not what you think—”

“Not what I think?” He takes three steps closer to me, pokes me in the chest and punctuates his words. “Stay. The fuck. Out of our business.”

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Now all four of us turn to find a woman walking down the dock. There is no way to miss what she is. The dark suit, the dark sunglasses, the stoic, flat line of her mouth.