Page 108 of Tony

“They do serve really crappy coffee too. It’s like they don’t even care,” Soshee says.

“They definitely don’t fit in. You might be on to something. And there’s that little fact that this place is a haven for witnesses.”

“Tell me more about that,” Tony says.

“Well.” Vann stands up and walks over to the window. We all get up and follow him. He leans into it a little and points down College Avenue. “I know they hire new-in-town randos at Big City Burrito because I’m tight with the cashier, Carla. She used to give my brother-in-law Spencer line-dancing lessons back in the day. She told me they have a contract with the FBI and they hire two or three people a year in there. And then there’s Renee at the Cat Call Club. Spencer was her bodyguard while she worked the club back when I was a teenager. And she told me they hire out-of-town randos seven or eight times a year too. So.” He shrugs. “Who are all these random people the FBI needs to find jobs for, if not other witnesses?”

“And why do they all come here?” Tony asks. He looks at me. “When you got sent here, it wasn’t my idea. The FBI made that call.”

“You can’t trust the FBI around here. Believe me. Spencer and his friends got caught up in some shit when I was a kid and they all got busted.”

Soshee points at Vann. “I totally remember that. There was gonna be a trial? Or something?”

“Never happened,” Vann says. “Important people died and Spencer’s friends made sure the FBI took the heat. One of them was going to go to prison, but they killed him.”

“Spencer killed him?”

“No,” Vann says. Then he looks over his shoulder. Like he’s afraid someone might be watching us from way up here. “That’s the other top-secret part about this place. My…” He hesitates. “What to call her?”

“Who?” Soshee says.

“Sasha Aston. She’s like… I don’t know. Sorta like a sister because she’s Spencer’s best friend’s adopted daughter. It’s complicated. But she and these other people—who may or may not be honorarily related to me as well—they’re what’s called… Company.”

“Company?” Tony says. “What Company?”

“You know that Chek dude we met down in Key West when your whole kid-smuggling thing was about to go off the rails?”

“Creepy Chek and Wendy?” Tony says. “I’ll never forget those two creepy fucks. What about them?”

“Well, they’re Company too. I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to know this, and Johnny Boston would probably pay me a visit if any of you let on that I do know this.” He pauses to eyeball Soshee. “Since, apparently, you’re Zach Boston’s sister.”

“I don’t even know the guy, Vann,” Soshee says. “I’m not going to rat you out. I only know of him because I was snooping in my mom’s stuff when we lived in the trailer park and found some old letters from my father. They mentioned I had a brother, so I snooped some more and found Zach. But we’ve never even met.”

“Well, my sort-of sister, Sasha Aston, is one of those Company people. She’s like Wendy. And her handler was a dude called James Fenici. And he rolled into town just before that trial was about to start and took care of shit. So the FBI dude who was gonna go down for the things Spencer and his friends actually did do, well, Fenici poisoned him. Bam. Whole thing went away overnight.”

“Or not,” Tony says. “Because they’re still here.”

“Not those people,” Vann says. “I was only seventeen when this all happened. These people now are all new.”

“Wait,” I say, finally feeling like this convo has something to do with me. “Seventeen? That was the year I showed up.”

Vann points at me. “Exactly. That’s why I took such notice of you. One moment there is no angel called Belinda in my town. And then there was.” He grins at me and I melt a little. Not just because of that grin. But… this really is real. It really does feel like destiny.

“So this means,” Tony says, “that it’s all connected. This Spencer dude. Chek. Wendy. Sasha. Whoever James is. Johnny. Me. Alonzo. Tara.” He points at Soshee. “You and Zach. All of us.”

“All of you,” Vann says, “except me.”

“How do you figure that?” Tony asks. “You’re the one who knows all this shit.”

“Yeah, but aside from my sister’s marriage to Spencer Shrike, we’re not part of it.”

“You should be part of it,” Soshee says.

“Yeah,” I say. “You really should, Vann. How did your family stay so clean over the years?”

Vann puts his hand over his heart, mockingly offended. “Are you implying the Vaughn brothers aren’t upstanding citizens?”

I roll my eyes at him.