Killer Season. Lara Lacombe

Unfortunately, Ben Carter thought to use blackmail in exchange for debt forgiveness. Your uncle did not agree to those terms.”

      The lightbulb clicked on in Joey’s head. So that’s why Sal’s goons hadn’t gone after Ben yet! They were trying to get the pictures back so his uncle wasn’t embarrassed. “What does he want me to do?”

      “If you can retrieve the photos, your uncle is willing to overlook tonight’s transgressions.” The lawyer’s tone made it clear he didn’t think Joey’s chances of success were high. “If not, he will make sure you are dealt with appropriately.”

      Joey ignored the shiver that ran down his spine at the implied threat. He had no illusions that Sal would go easy on him simply because they shared bonds of blood. “Does he care how I do it?”

      Richard shrugged. “He would prefer you keep things quiet, if possible. But make no mistake—he wants those photos, at any cost.”

      Joey nodded. He could do this. How hard could it be? “Okay. When’s he want them?”

      “As soon as possible. Do you think you can handle this request?”

      “Oh, yeah.” He felt his confidence return with every passing moment. This was his second chance, and he was going to make the most of it. Show Uncle Sal he wasn’t a screwup, that he could be trusted. He was tired of being treated like a child. He was going to fix this, and his uncle would be so grateful he’d have to acknowledge that Joey was an important part of the family.

      “You really think you can get me out of here?” He eyed the lawyer up and down. “They caught me red-handed. Gonna be pretty hard to argue I’m innocent.”

      Richard Beck gave him a small smirk. “Don’t trouble yourself with the details. I assure you, I will do my job.” He stood and walked over to the door, but turned back before opening it. “Let us hope you can say the same.”

      * * *

      Big Sal reached for his phone with a halfhearted curse, shaking his head to clear the fog of sleep. Sylvia, his wife, stirred in the bed next to him.

      “Who is calling you this late?” she asked, her annoyance clear despite the sleepy tone of her voice.

      He glanced at the lighted display. “Richard,” he said.

      Sylvia turned over with a huff. “Doesn’t he ever sleep?”

      Sal chuckled softly. “I pay him too much for that.”

      He climbed out of bed and grabbed his robe on the way out the door. Although Sylvia knew Richard was his attorney, she didn’t know the finer details of the services Richard provided for him. And he planned to keep it that way.

      “Yes?” he answered, sliding into his robe as he walked to his study.

      “It’s done.”

      “He knows what to do?” Joey had already screwed things up tonight. He wouldn’t put it past the kid to do it again.

      “I was very clear,” Richard assured him.

      “Humph.” Under normal circumstances, Sal would have been confident in Richard’s communication skills. But Joey wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, as he’d proven time and time again. He didn’t really think the kid would be able to get this job done, but he had to give him one last shot. He owed it to his sister—God rest her soul—and maybe Joey would actually surprise him.

      Stranger things had happened before.

      “I will post his bail tomorrow morning, after the initial hearing,” Richard was saying. “Will there be anything else?”

      Sal shook his head, then remembered the other man couldn’t see him. “Not right now. I appreciate you taking care of this.”

      “My pleasure,” Richard replied smoothly. “May I ask a question?”

      Sal’s curiosity perked up. Usually, Richard didn’t want to know any more details than necessary. What had changed? “Of course.”

      The attorney hesitated, as if choosing his words with care. “If I may, sir. This young man doesn’t seem to be the most capable choice for the job at hand. Are you sure you can trust him?”

      “He’s family,” Sal said flatly. “I don’t have another choice right now.”

      “Very good, sir,” Richard said. “Good night, then.”

      Sal hung up the phone and stared out the back window, overlooking the perfectly manicured garden and the Olympic-size pool. It was a full moon tonight, the light so bright he could see every ripple of the water, every silvery shimmer as a light wind stirred the surface, creating tiny little waves. It was a beautiful pool, but he’d never been in it. He’d never had the time.

      His doctor was always after him to lose weight and move more, and swimming would be a great way to exercise. Wasn’t it supposed to be a stress reliever, as well? He could definitely use some of that. If those pictures were leaked to the wider world, he was in for a hell of a lot of pain. His thoughts drifted to Sylvia, fast asleep in their bed. She was not a forgiving woman. But worse than that was the thought of what Isabella would do to him. If she knew they had been seen together, that there was photographic evidence of their association...

      He shuddered involuntarily, the jolt of fear leaving a bad taste in his mouth. It wouldn’t come to that. He would give Joey a few days to get the pictures back. And if the kid failed, well, he’d be able to deal with his nephew with a clear conscience. Plus, there would still be time to get the photos back before they leaked.

      It was a good plan, overall. It should work.

      It has to work, he amended silently.

      He simply couldn’t face the consequences of failure.