Erin pulled out her wallet and handed him a less crumpled bill. “Try this one. So, we’ve got enough to hold him just based on that. He think it’s a drug bust?”
“That’d be my guess,” Logan said. “Say, what’s going on? I heard some crazy shit on the radio, and then your CO told us to go in and snatch this guy.”
“His whole crew’s getting popped,” she explained. “Two down so far tonight.”
Logan whistled. “Gotcha. So, we’re protecting this scumbag?”
“That’s the idea.”
“I assume we want something from him?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“You want him alone, or you want Firelli or me with you?”
“Yes!” Firelli shouted.
Erin and Logan turned to look at him. He stooped and triumphantly plucked a bag of M&Ms out of the vending machine’s dispenser.
“An addiction’s an ugly thing to see,” Logan said, shaking his head sadly.
“I’ll talk to Burke solo,” Erin said. “I’ve got some angles I can work. Can you guys hang around? If you can hold onto Rolf for a few minutes, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure thing,” Logan said. “We’ll watch from next door.”
Lonnie Burke was a stringy, hollow-eyed guy who looked a lot older than the twenty-three years his file said he was. In spite of the cold March weather, he was wearing only cargo pants and a wife-beater that showed off a nice set of tattoos, including some prison ink. Logan and Firelli had snatched him from home and hadn’t given him the chance to put on more clothes. Erin saw the edginess in his posture, the needle tracks on his arms. He was rubbing his elbows, either from the cold or from nerves.
“Hey, Lonnie,” she said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the interrogation table. “You know who I am?”
He looked at her blankly for a second. Then she saw recognition in his eyes, followed by relief and a look of sly cunning.
“Yeah,” he said. He leaned forward in his chair. “You’re O’Reilly. It’s covered, then?”
Erin realized he thought she was there at Carlyle’s request. She had to swallow an angry denial. She needed Lonnie to talk, and if he thought she was on his side, so much the better. But she had to be careful. Word got around, both in prison and on the street, and if she screwed Lonnie too badly, Evan O’Malley would be sure to hear about it.
She hissed sharply through her teeth, warning him not to say anything explicit about her connection to the O’Malleys. “I’m working on helping you,” she said, leaning toward him to match his posture. “Listen, Lonnie. You’re in deep shit.”
“Hey, it’s just a weapons charge,” he said. “And we can knock down the weight on the shit to a misdemeanor, right?”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she said. “The Colombians know about you. You heard what happened to Liam?”
“Yeah, I heard,” he said. His face went a little paler. “Shit, that was the cartel?”
“Yeah,” Erin said. “They know all about Liam’s little double deal. They know you guys hit the restaurant, and they’ve got someone feeding them names. They’ve got guys right here, in town, right now, looking for you.”
“How do you know that?” Lonnie asked.
“Twitchy and Maginty got whacked less than an hour ago.”
“What? Both of them?” Lonnie hadn’t looked good to begin with, and now he looked like warmed-over death. “You sure?”
“I just came from the Irish American,” she said. “Maginty’s there. He’s done. They got Newton half an hour before that, outside his place.”
Lonnie sat back. He didn’t seem to be feeling the cold now. He wiped sweat off his forehead. “Hail Mary, full of grace,” he muttered. Erin reflected that a Catholic upbringing left its mark, even on a guy like Burke.
“That’s why my people picked you up,” she said. “We had to get you off the street before you got nailed, too.”
“Thanks,” Lonnie said. “Hey, could I get a smoke or something?”
“Sorry, not here,” she said. “Government building. You know how it is. Look, Lonnie, we’re going to keep you safe here while we sort out these cartel goons. We can’t have these out-of-town mooks coming in here and shooting up the place, right?”
“Yeah, I hear that,” he said. “So I just gotta sit tight?”
“I need to get your last buddy somewhere safe,” she said.
“Last buddy?” Lonnie echoed.
“Liam, Twitchy, and Pat are dead,” she said, ticking them off on her fingers. Then she made her guess. “There’s just you and Siobhan left.”
And she knew she was right. She saw it in his eyes even before he spoke.
“Look, Miss O’Reilly, you ain’t gotta worry about her,” Lonnie said with surprising earnestness. “Those jerks find her, they’re gonna wish they hadn’t.”
“I know she’s good,” Erin said. “But so are they.”
“Good?” Burke repeated. “Lady, this broad… shit, we’re playing Little League and she’s starting for the Yankees, okay? You should’ve seen… damn. It was something else. You know what happened at the restaurant? You know what that was? Three shots. Three. Nobody’s that good.”
Erin nodded, feeling a thrill. This was exactly what she needed. Logan and Firelli were hearing every word, and recording it.
“You saw her do it?” Erin asked.
“Nah,” he said. “Angle was wrong. But I heard. One, two, three. That fast.”
“Okay,” Erin said, pretending to be impressed. It wasn’t hard to pretend. She’d seen the bodies behind the restaurant. It had been the best shooting she’d ever seen in twelve years with the NYPD. “Maybe you’re right, and she can take care of herself. But you know how it is.”
She leaned in again, speaking quietly, for Burke’s ears alone. “She means a lot to Cars. Anything happens to her, he’s going to go ballistic.”
Burke nodded. “Gotcha. But I can’t do nothing about that. I don’t know where she is. She’s getting out of town, I know that, but I don’t know when or how. Hell, maybe she’s gone already.”
“What about the stuff?” Erin asked. “You got it stashed somewhere safe?”
“Yeah,” he said. “What your boys didn’t take
