I’d gotten a lot of things wrong in life. I’d made wrong calls and trusted the wrong people. Maybe I didn’t know how I planned to stop myself from ending up the final Muñoz casualty, but I did know two things. One, my father was a psychopathic narcissist who kept a detailed log of everyone’s dirty little secrets, and two, I was about to reveal them all.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brody
“You’re going to do what?”
I held the phone out and let Val yell while opening a can of what I hoped was soup. When he brought it down to a low roar, I held it up to my ear. “I said we’re going to check banks and see what we can find. It’s like playing slots. Sooner or later, one has to pay out.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Promises, promises.”
“You get yourself and my sister involved in a shooting at a club belonging to her ex and you don’t call me. Then you trespass on rival property and you still don’t call me.” He let out a low laugh, but it wasn’t out of humor. “My charitable side is wearing thin, Harcourt.”
“As soon as I have more information, I’ll call back.”
“Brody,” Val said, hesitation in his voice. “Adriana’s back is against the wall. She has nothing to lose and everything to gain. While I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, I won’t trust without verifying. You should do the same.”
“Right.”
“By the way, I’ve got some news on your friend Leo Pinellas.”
Ten minutes later, I ended the call, my chest tightened, but it had nothing to do with Leo.
Everything he said about Adriana was true. I knew better than anyone lies were told by the sweetest of lips. I had to remind myself she was a dangerous killer, just like the one I’d become.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know if that deterred me or excited me.
I glanced up at the big round clock on the wall.
4:47 p.m.
If the bitch in front of us counting out coins like she was about to play slots until her next birthday didn’t move, the bank would close before we had our turn. Clearing my throat and tapping my toe did nothing but feed my irritation. Finally, she swept them into her huge old lady bag and waddled past us, returning my glare as she walked by.
Last night, we determined the key Adriana found was to a bank safe deposit box, so after we got up this morning, we set out to find the bank it belonged to. Only now, it was eight hours later, and after driving from bank to bank, my patience ran on fumes.
“¡Próximo!” Next!
Adriana and I stepped up to the teller window, and I ground my teeth as Adriana held up the key she stole from her father’s house, reciting the same ridiculous speech in Spanish I’d heard six times already. If there was a seventh speech, I couldn’t promise that damn key wouldn’t end up shoved up someone’s ass.
Because to tell the truth, I was fucking tired of not knowing what they were saying. “¿Alguien de aquí habla inglés?” Does anyone here speak English?
Adriana glared at me, but thankfully, the bank teller flashed an overly white smile. “Yes, of course. I speak very good English.”
“Good. Use it,” I growled, her overly perky attitude grating on my last nerve.
Her lips wavered a little at my tone, but she was still smiling when she turned back to Adriana. “Yes, Miss Muñoz, box 384 does belong to Esteban Muñoz. According to our records, it has been untouched for three years.” A line formed between her eyebrows as she stared at her computer screen. “Very strange.”
“What’s strange?” Adriana asked.
“Usually, our customers pay yearly, but when Mr. Muñoz rented the box, he prepaid ninety-seven thousand pesos. It’s highly unusual. I’ve never seen anyone do that before.”
“He knew he wouldn’t be around to make the payments,” I muttered.
The teller tilted her head. “What was that?”
“Nothing. Look, we’re on a tight schedule. Can we just see the box?”
“I’m sorry, that’s not going to be possible.”
Adriana’s head shot up. “Why the hell not?”
The teller gave her a thin smile. “Mr. Esteban Muñoz is the only name listed on the safe deposit box. Just because you have the key and claim to be his daughter, that doesn’t give me authorization to allow you access, Miss Muñoz .” She tapped a pink painted nail against her computer screen as if we could see it. “Your name has to be on the account itself. I’m sorry.”
She was sorry?
Somewhere in that vault was a truth bomb ticking away the seconds of the Carrera Cartel’s destruction. Unless I could convince some half-wit to stop wasting my time and unlock the gate, it would detonate, and Adriana and I would both be as good as dead.
And she was fucking sorry?
With a quick look around, I noted there were only two tellers and one office manager in the entire place and made a snap decision.
Pulling my gun, I glanced at her nameplate while aiming it at her face. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Maya. You’re going to let Miss Muñoz back there to get her father’s shit right now. If not, I’ll put a bullet in your head, and…” I swung the gun toward a younger woman two windows down from her. “I’m sure Selena over there would be happy to do it for you.”
Maya nodded like a bobblehead and let out a high-pitched wail while she blubbered, snot flying everywhere as she begged for her life.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Adriana hissed beside me.
“Shut up and take this.” Keeping my gun level, I reached for my ankle holster and handed her another one.
Her eyes widened. “Where the hell did you get that?”
From Guns R Us—where the hell did she think I got it?
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe from the haul you requested from your fiancé. Now stop asking me stupid questions and go!”
Taking the gun, she pointed it at Maya and motioned her toward the back. Once they disappeared, I turned my attention toward Selena, the catatonic teller.
“What’s your boss’s name?”
“Vicente Hernandez.” Selena spat the name as if it was the vilest thing she’d ever tasted.
I was starting to like this girl.
I let out a loud whistle. “Hey, Vic, I’m going to need you to come out here, and I suggest you do it now because I promise you don’t want me to come get you.”
The fucker had been hiding out in his office the whole time.
Coward.
Slowly, the office door opened and a middle-aged man wearing a cheap suit and a bad comb-over walked out with his knees shaking and his hands up. “Por favor don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“¡Sí!”
I turned toward Selena and pointed the gun at her head. “Tell you what, Vic, I’ll make you a deal. Only one of you is walking out of here today, so since you’re the man in charge, you tell me who it’s going to be. Do I shoot Selena or you?”
I was only half-serious. That was the lawyer-half. However, the lieutenant-half was still waiting on his answer.