Page 72 of The Karma Project
We all stand silently for a moment before Brandi asks, “Are you the… Sparrow?” Motioning towards Jessica.
“Hell no.” Brandon and I answer at synchronized timing, as if the thought was offensive in itself.
“Jeez, thanks guys.” Jessica snorts. “No ma’am. I’m just an employee. However, if I were you, I’d be relieved you got me instead of the Sparrow.”
“Why is that?”
Jessica smirks before answering, “She’s much scarier. And a hell of a lot more ruthless.”
Brandi just hums and makes her hands busy wiping down the register.
“Can we get three coffees to go?” I finally speak.
The smile that takes over Brandi’s face is delightful. She’s young, mid-twenties maybe? It definitely isn’t easy starting up a business in this current economic climate, much less on this side of Seattle.
“Can I also have one of those blueberry lemon scones?” Jessica adds, “Since he’s buying.” She shrugs.
There’s an obvious relief in Brandi’s features, you can see it in the way her shoulders relax, and her smile softens, “Absolutely. Can I get you anything else?”
Brandon walks to the display case a few feet away and takes his time observing the items available before I turn back to Brandi. “What made you want to open on this side of town?” I ask.
With a sigh she shakes her head, and I can see her blink away the tears welling in her eyes. “Um, I used to have family out here. This building specifically actually.” She laughs uncomfortably before shaking away the nervous energy. “This place was a bait shop that my grandfather owned, and he was killed by a few thugs a couple years ago during a robbery. Luckily the place was paid off and he left it to me in his will. I guess it’s risky to be running a business on my own this side of town, but…” She trails off so I finish the sentence for her.
“It’s home.”
“It’s home.” She agrees with a watery smile.
I feel a kinship with her, a likeness that could be familial. For some reason asking her for dues feels so wrong that I at once want to send a message to Max to let him know. Brandi’s cafe will get protection whether she pays the fee or not. I will make sure that there are no thugs, or other rival families trying to cause her harm.
“We’ll also take a dozen of the cranberry muffins, and a chocolate croissant.” Brandon chimes.
I roll my eyes and take my card from my wallet as she begins to pack the items. The muffins are massive and fragrant and my stomach rumbles at the reminder that we might be running behind for our lunch appointment at Angelo’s.
After paying and leaving a tip at the counter we all bid our goodbyes to Rissa and leave with more than enough pastries and three fresh coffees.
“I like that place.” Jessica adds as we pull onto the highway.
“Yeah, me too.” I agree. “I think Zoe would enjoy it there too, we’ll have to be sure she sees it.” Brandon hums his agreement and begins picking at his chocolate croissant.
I go to speed up when Brandon mumbles, “Holy shit.”
“What?” I glance back towards him, croissant completely forgotten.
“Max texted; he has some more information on the cambions. A time and place for the next big pick up, and K.H. is supposed to be there.” He explains. “Say’s that he got the information from some guy named Travis Ritter.” Before I canadd anything, I can see him shift into research mode, pulling his laptop from his backpack in front of him then slipping on his glasses.
“He seems clean, he’s been with us since… Well since before there was an us.” He shrugs. “Born and raised here in Seattle, child of the system, no issues with stealing or disrespect in our files. He seems like a good enough guy.”
“But how did he get the information?” I ask.
“Max says Travis overheard it from a few guys at a bar the other night. He also wants us to send a few guys to keep an eye on him. For protection and to make sure he isn’t trying to set us up.” Says Brandon.
I look at Jessica in the rearview mirror and she nods, pulling out her phone to make the call. “Four guys on Travis Ritter immediately.” She says into her phone, then rambles out his last known location.
We sit in a comfortable and thoughtful silence until we reach Angelo’s. As expected, the restaurant is completely empty, and we take our normal seats at a booth towards the back. Jessica takes her post at the front door keeping an eye on the parking lot. I might like her after all.
We wait for a few minutes and Angelo makes his way to our table with a knowing grin stretched across his old face. “My boys!” He calls. “Where’s the little spitfire?” He asks, knowing he is talking about Zoe.
“They are two minutes and forty-three seconds out.” Brandon calls as he stares at the tracker on his phone. I should have known he put it on there before Max gave her that phone.
