Free Sins of the Flesh by Caridad Piñeiro Page B

their heads were bent together in discussion until they saw her and broke apart.
    Clearly they had heard about what had happened.
    Straightening her spine, Liliana approached, determined to not let hospital gossip and her association with Harrison weigh her down.
    From the stairs, Mick was able to see that Caterina had not yet awakened that morning. Of course it was still early for most. Barely seven.
    He had managed to get a few hours of sleep before planting his butt in his office chair to search for additional information on Wardwell and its two founders. Waiting to call his old buddy Franklin.
    Franklin Pierce might have been his friend for nearly adecade, but if Franklin was being paid anything close to what he was for this assignment, that old friendship likely would not count for much. Especially since they hadn’t really seen each other very much in the last couple of years.
    Taking one of the prepaid cell phones from his file cabinet, Mick dialed the personal cell phone number he had for Franklin. If his ex–Army Ranger buddy answered there, he might be one up on him, assuming Franklin hadn’t shut off the GPS tracking on the phone.
    Leaning back into his leather office chair, Mick waited while the cell phone rang.
    With each ring, he wondered if Franklin had changed much over the years. If his old buddy was still as trustworthy as he had been during their days in the military and after.
    His old friend answered with a sleepy, “Hullo?”
    In the background a baby cried, possibly awakened by his early morning call. That didn’t stop Mick from engaging the GPS tracking service he had hacked from the phone company.
    “Don’t tell me you’re a dad now, Franklin,” he said, the tenor of his voice friendly as he waited for the Web site to return a location for Pierce’s signal.
    “Man, oh man. Is it really you, Carrera?”
    A muffled voice said, “Who is it, honey?” as the wailing sounds of the baby grew louder.
    A second later, the GPS identified the location of Pierce’s cell phone—a building in a residential section of South Philly. Probably Franklin’s home, judging from the area and the clear signs of family in the background.
    “An old friend,” Franklin answered the woman andthen the ambient sounds in the room faded. He was obviously leaving the woman and child behind in the room as he walked away to make their conversation more private.
    “Old? Hell, Franklin. I’m not as ancient as you are,” he said playfully, prompting his friend to chuckle and reply, “But this old man can still kick your ass.”
    Mick doubted it, but didn’t say. “I know you’re on the Shaw job, old man. I need you to back off.”
    A heavy and tired sigh drifted across the phone line. “Can’t do,
mano
. I need the money.”
    “You need it enough to have your goon kill a helpless woman? She was shot by your em-ploy-ee,” he said, injecting each syllable of the last word with sarcasm.
    Franklin’s words were hushed as he spoke. “My man says she attacked him. That she wasn’t human.”
    Mick forced himself to laugh to attempt to dissuade his friend from such thoughts. “Come on, Franklin. She’s just a frickin’ musician. Tell your man to stop using the crack. If you give Edwards his money back and quit the job, we’ll be square.”
    “Can’t do. Seriously. It’s my kid, Mick.”
    “Is something wrong?” Mick asked, concern for his old friend rising up.
    “My daughter’s sick and I need the cash,” Franklin replied.
    Mick sat up in his chair, planting his boots firmly on the ground as he dragged a hand though his short-cropped hair in frustration. “Don’t bullshit me.”
    “No bullshit. Some kind of anemia and the insurance doesn’t cover all that much for the treatments. I’m going broke from the medical bills.”
    In his days as a Ranger, Mick had understood themeaning of trust. So had Franklin. They had survived more than one hairy mission together based on that trust.
    He decided to rely