Free SHANK (A Wilde Crime Series) by j.a. kazimer Page B

to a tee.
    Mickey laughed. “Kid sister. You know how it is.” He took a drink of his beer and glanced at me. “Ian probably didn’t say it, but thanks.”
    She blushed, a slow red heat rising up her cheeks. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m not sure I can pull this off.”
    “You’ll do fine,” I said, but was having some do ubts. Clair was gorgeous, but she lacked the cold classiness of a high society dame like Bev. I hoped Neil could teacher her. Otherwise we’d be shit out of luck and it was onto Plan B. The problem was I didn’t have a Plan B.
    Just then, Neil opened the back door and the bright glare of sunlight from the street blinded me. Once my eyes adjusted to the brightness I glanced at him. Neil dressed in black—pants, shirt, glasses and boots. His face was pale and a fine sheen of sweat covered it. His eyes were clouded with pain. My heart gave a small squeeze. I introduced him to Clair.
    He stepped back and looked her over carefully. “Well, aren’t you lovely,” he said to her after a few seconds. “So Ian’s filled you in?”
    “Yes.” She grinned. “You’re here to make me a cold-blooded bitch. Where do you want to start?”
    He looked at me with question. I shrugged. This was his turf. “Why don’t we start with speech?” he drew out each word with chipped precision.
    “Sounds good,” Clair mimicked his tone.
    “Keep it down .” I nodded to Frankie who was a few feet away wiping down the bar with a yellowed towel. She glanced up, glaring at us with suspicion. “The less she suspects the better.” Neil shot me a look that said: ‘You’re an idiot’. I grinned. Yeah, I guess I was.
    “ Let’s go to Lombardo’s for a slice,” Neil said to Clair. Lombardo’s was a legend in the neighborhood. It severed cheap New York style pie with mountains of cheese and thick tomato paste.
    “ I’d kill for some anchovies and a diet coke.” Clair’s face softened in ecstasy, making my mouth water thinking of the last time I saw that kind of excitement in her eyes.
    “Girl after my own heart. Anchovies and diet coke it is.” Neil took her arm, and led her out the back door. After they left Frankie came over to the table where Mickey and I sat, her eyebrow raised in question. Mickey caught my eye and winced. When it came to Frankie he was a pushover, so lying and keeping secrets from her fell on me. I went on the offensive. “Did you call Sam about halving the Coors order?” I motioned to the cases of beer stacked around us. Yep, that’s me—the master of distraction.
    She looked at me like I was stupid. An expression I was getting used to seeing on more and more people’s faces. “I’m taking the afternoon off,” she said, tossing the grimy bar rag on the poker table.
    “ Oh. Okay,” I said slowly, looking to Mickey for help. He shrugged. I spread my hands wide. “Big plans?” She was up to something. I could tell by the twist of her lips.
    “N ot that it matters, but I have a date.” She patted her ponytail.
    That was news to me. Frankie didn’t date, or at least I hadn’t seen her with anyone since I got paroled. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
    “Why? ” Her hand went to her hip. “You and Mickey gonna scare him off?”
    Mickey grinned. “Well, if you’d stop dating losers I wouldn’t need to.” He turned to me. “You should have seen the last guy. He was some sort of professor at NYU. Came to pick her up and acted like we were diseased.”
    “Which you are,” Frankie said under her breath.
    Mickey ignored her. “A week later I found out the dude’s married, and not all that smart since he was lying about it. Bastard wasn’t good enough for Frankie.”
    “Who should I date then?” she sneered, “Someone like you, or Ian?”
    I pushed back in my chair. “I’m a good catch. Have all my teeth—”
    M ickey interrupted my assessment, “You’ve done worse.” When she glared at him, he quickly added, “I want to see you settle down and have a family. I want