Orvall dropped down into a huge easy chair that still only barely managed to contain his bulk. “Nicky . . .” he drawled, drawing out the word, “we’ve always been friendly. You’ve never crossed us. We’ve never crossed you. No harm in showing a little . . . cordiality to a colleague now and then, is there?”
Nicky spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I meant no disrespect.”
“Of course you didn’t!” Merv chimed in. He wagged his tongs at Nicky. “You’re good people. Always showing respect to those who deserve it.”
“And even some who don’t,” Irwin said with a shrug.
“Now, sit down, sit down,” Orvall said, waving Nicky and me toward an overstuffed sofa covered in what had to be the gaudiest flower pattern I’d ever seen. “Have some supper and we’ll talk business after. Irwin, grab our guests a beer!”
As soon as Nicky and I were seated, Irwin shoved ice cold Heinekens into our hands. I dutifully took a sip while the brothers watched, no doubt forming their opinion of me by how I responded to their generosity. “Mmm,” I said, offering Irwin a smile. “Hits the spot.”
“She’s a good girl, Nicky,” Irwin said with a wink. “Any gal not too prissy to drink beer from a bottle is okay with me. Don’t understand all them froo-froo drinks. You don’t drink none of them, do you, Ms. Muffet?”
I shook my head. “Oh, no! I’m definitely a beer and pretzels kind of girl.”
Orvall chuckled and slapped his knee. “Marry this one, Nicky!” he whooped. “Except for liking you, she’s a smart kid!”
Nicky actually flushed a little and cast a glance my way before replying, “Trish is definitely a keeper.”
As Nicky and Orvall chatted about whether the Blackhawks would make it to the play-offs and the new taxes the FMA had proposed for Tale businesses, I sat quietly, taking it all in. For all the politeness and show of hospitality, there was an undercurrent of tension in the room that had all the men on edge. Nicky’s shoulders were visibly bunched, ready to spring at the first sign of a threat. And as all of us gathered around the dinette for an early dinner, I glanced back and forth between them, studying each of them in turn.
Orvall was definitely the dominant brother, the one in charge. And while they all had a genial manner and went out of their way to make Nicky and me feel welcome, there was no mistaking that these men wouldn’t hesitate to cut our throats and bury us at the closest city dump if provoked. As soon as the dinner was cleared away, leaving only the lingering odor of sauerkraut in the air, Orvall leaned back in his chair and regarded Nicky with an even gaze, looking down his stubby nose at him.
“So, what brings you to our little corner of suburbia, Nicky?” he asked, getting to the point. “You’ve never approached us before.”
Nicky downed the last swig of his beer and set the bottle aside before leaning his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. “I hear you might be doing a construction job for someone. Someone who would prefer to remain out of the public eye. And the sunlight.”
Orvall’s chuckle was deeper and lacking in mirth this time. “Dracula, Nicky? You asking if we’re doing a job for Dracula?”
Nicky pulled back a little, apparently surprised by Orvall’s bluntness. “Yeah.”
“And what if we are?” Orvall asked. “Why should I tell you?”
Nicky shrugged, regaining his composure. “Professional courtesy. I would consider it a gesture of friendship.”
Orvall nodded, scratching the stubble on his chinny-chin-chin. “Here’s the thing,” he said, talking around the cigar clamped between his teeth. “I hear you’re getting out of the business. I hear you’ve gone soft. So what would it behoove me to be your friend? Especially when you’ve never once come to me offering friendship before?”
Nicky spread his hands. “You know me, Orvall,” he said. “I’ve never had need of your particular services. But it’s not because I think I’m too good to ask for your assistance. It’s just that, unlike some of these other incompetent mooks, I clean up my own messes.”
Orvall’s beady black eyes narrowed at Nicky. “And what about you getting out of the business? That true?”
Nicky shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m redefining my objectives.”
Merv chuckled, receiving a pointed glare from his brother. He coughed, the laughter dying on his lips.
Orvall jerked his chin. “Not falling in with these Agency assholes, are you?”
“The Agency?” I blurted before I could stop myself. “What do you know about them?”
Luckily, Orvall didn’t seem to mind me interrupting. “They came around a month or so ago, snooping, asking a shitload of questions. Wanted us to do a job for them, but they didn’t say what. I told them they could shove their job up their asses with my compliments. I even offered to help with that. They declined my offer.”
“Didn’t stop ’em comin’ around again, though,” Irwin added.
“Brought the Ordinary police with ’em that time,” Merv explained. “Slapped a zillion fines on us, some trumped up bullshit about building permits and zoning violations. Somehow they got it in their heads that we were putting in a titty bar just up the road from a school.”
“Are you?” I asked, earning a disapproving look from Nicky.
“Forgive her question,” he said. “She’s not used to working with men of honor.”
The brothers gave a terse nod in unison. “No offense taken,” Orvall assured him. He then turned to me. “We might be sons of bitches, Ms. Muffet, but we have principles. And some things simply are not done.”
I felt my face flushing. “Of course.”
“So, why would the Agency be out to cause you problems?” Nicky asked, steering the conversation back to our purpose for coming. “If you said no to the job, why not just hire some Ordinaries to do it? I’m sure they could’ve found someone willing. If there’s one thing I know about Ordinaries, it’s money talks.”
The triplets grunted and nodded in unison.
“Maybe they did,” Orvall suggested, scratching at his chin again.
Nicky was still frowning when we heard the sound of a car pulling up in front of the Piggs’ trailer. “Expecting anyone?” he asked, instantly on edge.
Orvall shook his head and heaved himself to his feet. He went to the window and pulled back the edge of the curtains. “Speak of the friggin’ devil.”
My brows came together and I rushed to the window, peeking out just in time to see Ian Spalding getting out of his car as three other Agency vehicles pulled into the parking lot. “What the hell are they doing here?” I muttered.
“You got a back door?” Nicky asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the window.
Apparently Merv was already thinking the same thing. “This way,” he called in a stage whisper from the back of the trailer.
Nicky shoved me ahead of him toward where Merv was motioning for us to get the lead out. Merv lifted a trap in the floor of the trailer, revealing what looked like a tunnel running under the parking lot. Now I understood the need for the latticework under the trailer. It wasn’t to make the place look homey; it was to disguise their emergency exit.
“Where does this go?” I asked. But before I got an answer, Merv was handing me down into the darkness. I glanced over my shoulder at Orvall and Irwin in time to see Orvall flipping up the cushions on the sofa and pulling out a pair of UZIs and handing one off to his brother. Apparently they were no longer relying upon a pot of boiling water to take care of the wolves at their door. . . .
I quickly climbed down the metal ladder affixed to the tunnel wall and dropped the last couple of feet to the floor, praying there weren’t any rats waiting for me at the bottom. A moment later, Nicky joined me, a flashlight in hand. He flicked it on, then shined it up at Merv. They gave each other a terse nod just as the first pat pat pat of rapid gunfire rang out. The trapdoor dropped and I heard hurried footsteps above our heads.