Complicity in Heels Read Online Free
Author: Matt Leatherwood Jr.
lieutenant, and you’ve got your police pension. As far as I’m concerned, everything else, which includes your service to us, is gravy. Just be thankful I’m not taking you for a helluva lot more.”
Bosky stuffed the envelope inside his jacket. “Fair enough, Patrone, but just remember, the careless shepherd makes an excellent dinner for the wolf”
Victor laughed. “And who’s the wolf?”
“That remains to be seen,” Bosky said, standing. “Life has a funny way of working things out.”
“Whatever,” Victor said with a roll of his eyes. “Just make sure the cops put pressure on the Southside Locos and my men are free and clear to do what we’ve got to do.”
Bosky acknowledged the directive with a nod then left the diner.
Victor leaned forward to finish his iced tea. Shepherds and wolves , he thought. Yet another reason to retire to a nice island in the South Pacific. Sheesh, the characters I have to put up with.
He reached into his wallet and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. He placed it on the table, wrote his phone number on it, then slid it underneath his plate. He eased out of the booth then headed out of the diner. She’ll call in a day or two. They always do.
Out on the street, he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. The phone rang several times before a woman answered.
“Hello,” a familiar voice said.
“Hey, girl, can you meet me in my suite at the Chateau Regency later today?”
“Sure thing. What’s up?”
“Not much. I’m just really wound up and need to relax.”
“Oh, poor baby. I’ll see what I can do,” the woman said. “How’s an hour sound?”
“Make it two. I got one more thing to take care of.”
“Two it is.
“I look forward to seeing you,” Victor said.
“I know,” the woman cooed. “Keep bringin’ the cash, and you’ll have a generous supply of ass.”
The line went dead.
CHAPTER THREE
T he Compound occupied all three floors of an abandoned luxury hotel built in 1920. Formerly known as the Hanover, it had been the premier hotel in Parkbridge in its day, with numerous parties, formal balls, and other social events held there. The hotel had even been rumored to have had two former state governors sign the register as guests during its sixty years of operation.
In 1980, the Hanover was officially closed to the general public. The family of the original proprietor, Edmund Drexel, sold the hotel to Randolph & Associates and reopened it several years later. Under their management, the Hanover experienced a brief renaissance and flourished. By the mid 1990s, ownership changed hands once again. This time, however, the hotel had failed to sustain a substantial profit margin and was foreclosed on by Parkbridge National Bank & Trust Company in 1997.
With the subprime mortgage crisis in full swing, an overabundance of commercial properties had been added to the bank’s real estate ledger. To alleviate this problem, PNB&T officials targeted prospects with fluid capital. The ability to close quickly and finance entire transactions independently made these clients a godsend. These dire circumstances had allowed Gemini Cordoza to purchase the former luxury hotel at well below market value.
Over the past century, the hotel had undergone numerous renovations at the expense of its various owners. At first glance, the inside looked like any other lodging facility, with a lobby, dining area, and conference suites. The current living arrangements there, however, were a different matter: junior associates and contracted help made due with conventional rooms on the ground floor, while senior associates occupied suites on the second. The third-floor penthouse was reserved for Gemini Cordoza and his guests. All the rooms came furnished with a microwave, refrigerator, and flat-screen television. In addition, Internet access was provided via a state-of-the-art wireless network.
Cordoza maintained a full-time staff of eight to oversee the Compound’s
Bosky stuffed the envelope inside his jacket. “Fair enough, Patrone, but just remember, the careless shepherd makes an excellent dinner for the wolf”
Victor laughed. “And who’s the wolf?”
“That remains to be seen,” Bosky said, standing. “Life has a funny way of working things out.”
“Whatever,” Victor said with a roll of his eyes. “Just make sure the cops put pressure on the Southside Locos and my men are free and clear to do what we’ve got to do.”
Bosky acknowledged the directive with a nod then left the diner.
Victor leaned forward to finish his iced tea. Shepherds and wolves , he thought. Yet another reason to retire to a nice island in the South Pacific. Sheesh, the characters I have to put up with.
He reached into his wallet and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. He placed it on the table, wrote his phone number on it, then slid it underneath his plate. He eased out of the booth then headed out of the diner. She’ll call in a day or two. They always do.
Out on the street, he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. The phone rang several times before a woman answered.
“Hello,” a familiar voice said.
“Hey, girl, can you meet me in my suite at the Chateau Regency later today?”
“Sure thing. What’s up?”
“Not much. I’m just really wound up and need to relax.”
“Oh, poor baby. I’ll see what I can do,” the woman said. “How’s an hour sound?”
“Make it two. I got one more thing to take care of.”
“Two it is.
“I look forward to seeing you,” Victor said.
“I know,” the woman cooed. “Keep bringin’ the cash, and you’ll have a generous supply of ass.”
The line went dead.
CHAPTER THREE
T he Compound occupied all three floors of an abandoned luxury hotel built in 1920. Formerly known as the Hanover, it had been the premier hotel in Parkbridge in its day, with numerous parties, formal balls, and other social events held there. The hotel had even been rumored to have had two former state governors sign the register as guests during its sixty years of operation.
In 1980, the Hanover was officially closed to the general public. The family of the original proprietor, Edmund Drexel, sold the hotel to Randolph & Associates and reopened it several years later. Under their management, the Hanover experienced a brief renaissance and flourished. By the mid 1990s, ownership changed hands once again. This time, however, the hotel had failed to sustain a substantial profit margin and was foreclosed on by Parkbridge National Bank & Trust Company in 1997.
With the subprime mortgage crisis in full swing, an overabundance of commercial properties had been added to the bank’s real estate ledger. To alleviate this problem, PNB&T officials targeted prospects with fluid capital. The ability to close quickly and finance entire transactions independently made these clients a godsend. These dire circumstances had allowed Gemini Cordoza to purchase the former luxury hotel at well below market value.
Over the past century, the hotel had undergone numerous renovations at the expense of its various owners. At first glance, the inside looked like any other lodging facility, with a lobby, dining area, and conference suites. The current living arrangements there, however, were a different matter: junior associates and contracted help made due with conventional rooms on the ground floor, while senior associates occupied suites on the second. The third-floor penthouse was reserved for Gemini Cordoza and his guests. All the rooms came furnished with a microwave, refrigerator, and flat-screen television. In addition, Internet access was provided via a state-of-the-art wireless network.
Cordoza maintained a full-time staff of eight to oversee the Compound’s
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