Erika
“Erika Cass.”
Frank’s Brooklyn accent rings out on the line. It’s so thick that you know he was born and raised there. I found him four years ago—in the Yellow Pages. I searched under private detectives and selected his name randomly. I had no idea what I was doing, and I’m lucky that Frank turned out to be as good as he is.
I don’t want to think about what might have happened if not for his
help.
“Hi, Frank,” I say. “Thanks for calling me back so quickly.” “For you, Erika? Anything. What do you need?”
Frank is a smooth talker. That’s what I thought the first and only time I
met him in person three years ago, right before the first job I hired him for. He looked just like he sounded—greasy black hair threaded with gray, yellowing teeth from years of smoking, and sharp eyes that didn’t miss a thing. The man made me nervous. But he’s always done everything I’ve asked him to. For the right price.
“The girl’s name is Olivia Reynolds,” I say. “She goes to Liam’s school. Same arrangement as last time. Okay?”
Frank is quiet, hopefully scribbling down the information. “Olivia Reynolds. Spelled how it sounds?”
“Yes.”
“Got it.”
“Same thing as last time. Okay?”
“Okay, you got it.” There’s shuffling on the other line. “I never seen a woman so eager to cock block her kid. Sometimes I think he’s going to be discussing this in therapy someday.”
My fingers tighten around the phone until my fingertips tingle. Frank has done this for me many times, and this is the first time he felt the need to comment. “If you don’t want to do it, I’ll get somebody else.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Because if you won’t do it, tell me now.” “Shit, Erika. Relax. I was just kidding around.” My shoulders relax. “Good.”
“One more thing,” Frank says. “My prices went up.” “How much?”
He quotes a number nearly twice as much as what I paid last time. My chest tightens. He knows it was an empty threat when I said I would get somebody else. He knows I’m not going to get somebody else. I need him. “Fine.”
“It’s nice working with you, as always, Erika.”
Just do your job, you piece of shit. I grit my teeth, angry I can’t say the words that are going through my head. But he’s going to do what I need him to do. He’s going to help me save my son from himself.
