“It’s time to move, amigo,” Alejandro says as the feed to Carmichael’s lake house is cut off.
“We just gonna walk up to his house and expect him to let us in?”
“I’ll break in if I have to,” he says with a shrug. “But his housekeeper will open the door. He thinks he’s untouchable. He thinks we’re dead.”
I nod my head in agreement. A man who thinks he has nothing to fear is a much easier target.
We climb out of the car and walk up the steps of the old Brownstone. Alejandro rings the buzzer and sure enough, the housekeeper opens the door a few moment’s later.
“I have a meeting with Mr. Carmichael,” Alejandro says with that disarming smile he has. He could have been a politician himself.
She blinks at us. “I’ll just go check.”
“No need. He knows about it,” I say, pushing the door open and allowing us both to walk past her.
“You can’t…” she shouts after us. “Mr. Carmichael,” she yells louder and a few seconds later he walks out of the sitting room at the back of the house.
His face turns an unnatural shade of grey when he sees us.
“Meeting at eight, right?” Alejandro says.
He opens and closes his mouth.
“Sir, shall I call Fitz?” the housekeeper asks.
I turn to her and shake my head. “If Fitz is the big Irish guy who’s supposed to be outside watching the house, you won’t find him.”
She swallows and blinks at me.
“It’s okay. He’s fine. His employers gave him the night off is all.”
“How? I vetted him myself,” Carmichael snaps.
I smile as I remember how pissed he was when he found out that a previous personal security detail turned out to be working for Alejandro all along.
“Well, he doesn’t work for me. But some friends of ours know his boss. You know how it is,” he says with a smile.
One of the many advantages of having the Ryan brothers as friends, is that they know every single person worth knowing in New York. A quick word in an associate’s ear was all it took for Fitz to leave early. There was a time when Carmichael had a whole team of security, but since he lost the financial backing of Montoya Inc. his star has faded somewhat.
“Could you give us a moment?” I say to the housekeeper.
She looks at her boss, but he just stares at her.
“I’m pretty sure this piece of shit doesn’t pay you enough for this, lady?” I say, pulling a wad of hundred dollar bills from my coat pocket.
Money makes the world go round. And Foster Carmichael is a self-centered, entitled, arrogant prick. I know without a doubt that he does not treat his staff well.
She looks at the cash and then at her scumbag boss. Then she takes it from my hand, pulls her coat from the night stand and walks out of the house.
“Rosie,” he shouts after her, but she doesn’t even look back.
“Shall we?” Alejandro says as he gestures toward the front door.
Foster looks between his son-in-law and me, blinking in shock. “You seriously think I’d go anywhere with you?”
“I don’t see that you have much choice,” I say.
“You can’t just walk in here and kidnap me. I’m Foster fucking Carmichael. People will notice I’m gone.”
“Like who?” I frown at him. “Your housekeeper who just walked out of here for ten thousand bucks. Or your wife, who’s so out of her head on pills that she doesn’t even know what fucking day it is?”
He glares at me as he realizes that no-one gives a shit about him. Treat people like crap long enough and they will do the same to you.
“You come with me or I kill you right now and make it look like a suicide,” Alejandro snarls. “But your daughter wants to look you in the eye. And believe it or not, she is your only hope of making it out of this alive. Because, despite how much I fucking despise your guts, you suck hijo de puta, I would spare your life if I thought it would ease her pain. Now move.”
Carmichael remains frozen to the spot for a few moments before his feet finally stumble forward and he moves toward the direction of the front door.
Just five minutes later, he is in the back seat of the car with me for company as we drive to our friend’s building where Lucia and Alana are waiting.
