Shameless: A Tropical Authors Novel (Tropical Adventure Series Book 3) by Steven Becker & David F. Berens & Chris Niles & Douglas Pratt

Author:Steven Becker & David F. Berens & Chris Niles & Douglas Pratt [Becker, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down Island Press
Published: 2023-02-28T06:00:00+00:00

22

“Harvey, I think we might need to slip out before Jay comes back up here.”

“Won’t he be upset if we’re gone?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. But I’ll tell him you were taking off after your daughter, and I couldn’t let you go alone.” He motioned for me to follow him, and I left my beer unfinished. I pulled a twenty-dollar bill from my wallet, tossing it on the bar. I hoped it covered our tab, but I doubted it. Chase didn’t seem to care, and since he worked here, I guessed he would take care of it later.

He led me through the lobby. I studied the decor as we passed. The Tilly Inn seemed like it was from another time. The intricate marble columns and wainscoting seemed to belong in Italy, or maybe New York in the twenties.

“Where are we going?” I asked, tagging along close to Chase.

He stopped in the middle of the lobby. A tall, muscular Latino man in cowboy boots and a bright red shirt stood at the door. He looked mean, but maybe it was just because of the scar running along his cheek. On either side of him were two equally tough-looking men. The man with the scar pointed at Chase.

“Harvey, don’t say anything to these guys. I’ll do the talking. Whatever you do, don’t tell them about your daughter.”

“Who are they?” I asked.

“That’s the head enforcer for the Andrade Cartel.”

“Another one?”

“Don’t worry about him,” Chase assured me. “He won’t cross us unless he has to.”

“Has to? What does that mean?”

“It means I have to really piss him off first.”

“Well, don’t do that,” I said.

Chase gave me a grin. “Don’t worry, Harvey. Scar loves me.”

“Scar?”

“Oh, don’t call him that, though,” he whispered as the enforcer stepped up to us.

“Gordon,” the man said with a deep voice and Cuban accent.

“Esteban. Want to grab a table?” Chase waved his hand toward several marble-top round tables scattered around the lobby.

The man called Esteban or Scar cocked his head to the side quizzically. “There seems to be a heavy presence of policía.”

“We had a problem,” Chase told him.

“Let’s take a ride.” Esteban pointed toward the door.

“Come along, Harvey.” Chase touched my arm. “I’m sure this ride will prove fruitful.”

This setup made me nervous, but I followed Chase, even as fear quickened my pulse. Perhaps I had misjudged Chase. He might not work for the Sandoval Cartel, but he was certainly acquainted with this other one. Was he about to sell Victoria out? I wanted to protest but didn’t know what might happen. I still had the 9mm Chase had given me. If he intended to turn on Victoria, I was ready to turn on him.

“Who is your friend, Gordon?” Esteban asked as he marched us through the revolving door to the street.

“Harvey, this is Esteban Velazquez,” Chase introduced us. He didn’t offer any other explanation.

“Hello.” I fought to keep my voice steady.

The enforcer ignored my greeting. The Tilly Inn was located on Flagler Street. At this time of the evening, it was busy with worker bees getting off their jobs and heading home.

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