Bobby’s cell phone rang. "What’s up?" Bobby answered.
"I need to see you," Cat said.
"I told you I got something to do. I’ll get with you later."
"I know what you said, but I need to see you now. Just come by here. You fell asleep and didn’t finish what you started."
Bobby’s cell beeped with a call on the other line. He looked at the display. "Look, I got another call coming. I’ll get with you later," he said and clicked to the other line. "What’s up?"
"Bobby, this is Angelo. Is Mikey with you?"
"He’s right here, Angelo, " Bobby said and handed Mike the phone.
"What’s up?"
"Got a tip for you."
Chapter Twelve
Nick and Freeze rolled out of Cuisine and hit the streets. While Nick drove, Freeze made some calls. They checked a few places, but hadn’t come up with anything. There was very little conversation between the two until Nick turned to Freeze and broke the silence. "You really woulda killed me, wouldn’t you?"
"Yeah, Nick. I woulda put a bullet in the back of your head," Freeze replied nonchalantly.
"Like it wasn’t shit," Nick said angrily, but what he was feeling inside was something different.
"Shit ain’t changed, and I ain’t either. I’d feel really bad about the shit, Nick, but yeah, if Black wanted you dead," Freeze said and stopped.
"I know," Nick said. He understood, but it still hurt.
"There’s some shit you gotta realize. You been gone a long time. And when you do come back, you’re still into the same shit, government shit that you were into before you got out. Only thing changed was you had a new master. All that time nobody hears from you until Gee set you up to be the fall guy for whatever her and her sister had cooked up for Chilly."
"I called Black a few times when I got back, but we never hooked up."
"Fuck that shit, Nick! I ain’t hard to find. You shoulda came to see me!" Freeze yelled.
"You know what was up with that," Nick yelled back. "And why didn’t you tell me what was up with Camille? You knew what was goin’ on. Everybody knew! Everybody but me."
"I couldn’t tell you nothin’. I had to check you out, see if you could be trusted."
"That why you helped me? So you could watch me? To see if I could be trusted?"
"No, Nick, I helped you ’cause you my nigga, my nigga from way back. You said you needed me to ride."
"Do you trust me?"
"If I didn’t trust you, Nick, I’da killed you a long time ago and none of this would be happenin’," Freeze said, reminding Nick that this all began when one of the Latino men that came to Black’s Paradise looked at him.
He must have recognized me, Nick thought, because the Latino immediately stood up and looked directly at him, took out his gun and shot the DEA agent in the head. Since then, Nick had been trying to remember where the man would have known him from and what was the connection to DEA agent Roman Patterson.
By 9:30, Freeze found out where Sally Fitz had been hanging out lately, and they were on their way to see him. When Nick and Freeze fell up in a place called Some Joint in Queens, they were glad they were both heavily armed. Nick spotted Sal at the bar, surrounded by four women, talking loud, drink in one hand, money in the other. There was never anything low profile about Sally Fitz.
"There he is."
"I see him," Freeze said. "And look, those must be the two Cubans Angelo told Black about."
"You watch them. I’m goin’ over there," Nick said and made his way toward him. "Yo, Sal, Sally Fitz!"
He looked around to see who called him Sally Fitz. He only let certain people call him that. "Nick!" he yelled over the music.
His real name was Salvatore Fitzpatrick; his father was Irish and his mother was Italian. He and Nick did some work together when Sally Fitz used to run with Angelo. Their lives took a similar turn when he joined the Army. Only difference was Sally Fitz joined because he’d killed somebody, while Nick joined after Bobby tried to kill him.
Sally Fitz was the type of guy who always had a deal going. The last time Nick saw Sally Fitz was in Istanbul, Turkey. He was trying to sell some weapons back to the guys he’d stolen them from.
"Is that fuckin’ Nick?" he yelled. He came toward Nick and shook his hand. "Good to see you, Nick. What you doin’ in here?"
"Lookin’ for you."
"For me? You didn’t fall up in this joint by yourself, did you?"
"And suppose I did?" Nick looked around the room. "I can drop every ass in this joint if I had to."
"I fuckin’ know you can, Nick. I fuckin’ know you can."
"Don’t worry about it, Sal. Freeze is with me."
"Freeze! Shit, I haven’t seen his ass in years. Where’s he at?"
"Over there." Nick pointed at Freeze.
Sally Fitz threw up his arms. "Call him over."
"He’s watchin’ my back."
"This sounds fuckin’ serious."
"Someplace quiet we can talk, Sal?"
"Outside. Come on." Nick followed Sally Fitz, and Freeze followed them both out of the club. The two Cubans followed Freeze. Sally Fitz walked across the street and waved for Freeze to join them. Once again, Freeze declined Sally Fitz’s invitation, choosing instead to keep his eye on the two Cubans, who stood twenty feet away.
"So, what’s up, Nick?" Sally Fitz asked.
"I’m lookin’ for a guy named Sal that hangs out with a couple of Latinos."
Sally Fitz looked at the Cubans. "Seems like you found him," he answered.
"Not you, Sal. The Sal I’m looking for kidnapped Mike Black’s wife yesterday in the Bahamas."
"That definitely ain’t me. And if Black thinks it’s me, you make sure you tell him that I didn’t have shit to do with it. Me and him go too far back, Nick. Come on. Me, you, Angelo and Black, back in the day, fuckin’ forget about it. I would never. You tell him that."
"I know, Sal. I was there when it happened, so I know it wasn’t you. But you know people, Sal. I was hopin’ that you knew the guy, since you both got the same name."
"Shit, Nick, you know how many guys there are named Sal?"
"Yeah, but like I said, this one hangs with two Latinos, probably South American."
Sally Fitz thought for a minute. "Now that you mention it, I think I do know who you’re talkin’ about. Sal Terrico. Does a lot of business south of the border."
"You know where I can find him?"
"I got no fuckin’ idea. I only met the guy a few times. And for the life of me, I can’t remember who it was that introduced us. Only reason I remember is ’cause we was both in the same place and somebody calls him and I answered. And that’s been years ago."
"What does he look like?"
"Shit, I don’t know. He’s a tall, lanky guy, maybe six foot, black hair, mustache."
"Anything at all you could tell me about him?"
"All I can tell you about this guy is that he loves black chicks. He was with a different one every time I seen him. The guy was ravin’ about how Queens had the best black strip clubs in the city, and how he been to all of them."
"He say what his favorite was?"
"Place called Cityscape or some shit like that."
"Thanks, Sal. You’ve been a big help," Nick said and started to walk away.
"Forget about it. I hope you get this guy. Hey, Nick, it’s funny you come by ’cause I got something you might be interested in."
"What’s that?"
"Really it’s something you could do for me. You know a guy named Paris?"
"Paris, yeah I know him. Considers himself an information broker. We did some business together. Why?"
"Yeah, well, he don’t consider himself that no more, ’cause he’s fuckin’ dead."
"Who killed him?"
"One of his mules."
"Why’d the mule kill him?"
"Paris sent somebody to kill her, but his bitch kills him. So Paris sends two more guys after her. She whacks them. Then she shows up in LA and she puts a bullet in his brain."