Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Chapter Twelve

Isaac "The dentist" Ventura

The poor sweetheart was completely zoned out. That's why I believe it's always fair to give your enemy at least two chances to cooperate. My work-model will make an exception for Weasel. He gave one chance, and he'll get one chance. An eye for an eye.

The question he asked would probably have thrown her off guard anyway, so he'd have to ask twice; "What's the current status of your virginity?", an informal, inappropriate question turned formal. They didn't care about the answer at the moment, they were out to embarrass her and have a reason to haul her away again.

I'm a big believer in patience. Weasel has none. That concerns me greatly. We know the turd is easily provoked, but we can deal with that. She shouldn't have to though.

"Think she'll be okay?" Nico quirks up at Scarface's question. His jaw had been set so tight I feared for the welfare of his teeth.

"Is that a hint of concern I detect?" I loved the banter between Damiano and I, I'm not sure how he feels about it though.

"Shut up, I don't really give a fuck, just making conversation." He fires back, shutting down again. Malcolm decides to answer his question anyway.

"Their work-process is sloppy, I don't think he really knows what he's doing. The trafficking was his father's specialty, his son doesn't seem to have inherited any sort of business-gene from him." I can't look at Scarface, because of the way I'm positioned, but I know he is listening. "His father knew how to handle the girls he took, without violent tendencies, bruised girls don't sell well. Weasel doesn't seem to work the same way, he is too 'trigger-happy'. If he keeps bruising her, and she doesn't sell, I think he'll kill her." The pieces suddenly fall into place. Malcolm knows something I don't, and I'm intrigued.

"Malcolm, what did you rope us all into?" I ask him with an amused smile. He knows I'm a sucker for mysteries and solving them.

"I truly apologize for keeping you in the dark, Isaac," Malcolm begins, "But if I remember correctly, you did say I was getting boring and needed to ramp up my entertainment-skills."

"You killed the pimp, the Bartholomew dude, didn't you?" He smiles wider at my question, making me laugh as that basically confirms it.

"Yes and no," he confirms, "I orchestrated it, but I didn't actually do the killing." His eyes land on the person behind me, Scarface. I contemplate the information for a few seconds.

"Scarface used my method to make it look like I did it. Why set me up?" I question Malcolm curiously. I'm not angry, quite the opposite, actually. This is like playing a game of clue. I love that game.

"We needed you here with us, we just didn't have the time to clue you in. Nico informed me you were out of the country when we were working on this job. The best way to make sure you were taken with us, would be to make them think you did it." I catch Nico's eyes, he knew? I'm so fucking proud of him, I hope he can see it in my eyes. Not many things fly over my head, but when things do, it's damn impressive.

"Barlowe has been a thorn in my side, snatching girls from the streets left and right. He snatched up the wrong girl a couple of months ago." Hm, interesting.

"What gir- oh." Realization dawns on me, Victoria. Damiano's older sister, Victoria, was found murdered in a brothel after being missing for months. The Italian mafia was devastated by the loss of the only girl in the family. I never personally met Victoria, but Damiano always talked well of her. It makes sense why he got the kill.

"Well done to you both," I'm still a little confused, we're obviously not done with their plan as long as we're still trapped in this basement. He kills Barlowe, so Barlowe is gone, and the trafficking ring has to be dissolved. Except, it isn't. Weasel is operating it, and he shouldn't be. Normally, when a high ranking pimp dies, the customers and suppliers disperse because they're afraid of being the next ones in the ground. There must be new suppliers, but who? And what about the girl?

"You think someone is continuing to supply girls to the Barlowe ring in an attempt to keep it running?" I ask Malcolm.

"Yes, I had my suspicions about it being his son, but after having met the shit-brain," He nods his head at the door. I can't say I disagree with the nickname, "I think we can all conclude that he is not the mastermind behind it, he is only interested in vengeance on behalf of his late father. I think this is his first time holding someone hostage for information. There's not a single microphone or camera in here. If there was, he would have tried to kill us all already." True, what a moron.

"Now that I'm enlightened about the background of us being captured and brought here, what do you actually need me for?" I ask excitedly, this is a bit different from the jobs I usually take on, but I'm always up for a challenge.

"I know you've been looking for a big gig, to allow your apprentice," He gestures to Nico with his head, "to show everything he's learned so far, and this also counts as a late birthday present, since you were out of the country." Malcolm that sick, lovable gentleman. I can't smile any more than I already am. Wait, the girl? I scrunch my brows in confusion.

"What about the girl? You haven't accounted for her yet." Malcolm sighs. Scarface decided to join the conversation.

"She really is unaccounted for, but I believe she is who she says she is." Scarface almost sounds annoyed that she's innocent instead of with Weasel. Poor girl. "People know to stay of the streets at night, but she's not from here." That's true, nothing good happens to young women at night in this city.

"Well, happy fucking birthday to me." I send Nico a goofy wink, and he rolls his eyes. "A birthday gift for me, a midterm for my apprentice, and a possible girlfriend for him if he passes." I wiggle my brows at him. I can already imagine a beautiful wedding in Italy.