Among Thieves

“I swear, my father lets me smoke,” she said. She’d picked up smoking from her mother a couple of years before. She figured it beat suicide.

“I didn’t say anything,” Fi

“What?”

“You got an extra?”

She reached into her pocket, pulled out the pack and tossed it to him. “You shouldn’t smoke,” she said.

“So I’ve heard.”

He lit the cigarette and took an ex-smoker’s drag. He held the poison in his lungs for a long time, milking its full effect, like a man lost in the desert drinking at an oasis. Finally he let the smoke out in a loud, long, satisfying exhale. Looking at the glowing ember of the cigarette, he asked her, “So, you doing okay with all of this?”

She shrugged. “Which part? My mom ditching? My dad being in jail? Having no place to live?”

“Your father being in jail and you having to stay here with me.”

“Par for the course in my life,” she said.

He took another long drag off the cigarette and held it for a shorter time. “It’s not always go

“No? What’s it go

“That’s up to you.”

“Is this the part where you share an inspirational story about how hard life was when you were growing up, and how you beat the odds?”

“No,” Fi

“Good. I’ve heard it before. It’s like every guidance counselor’s been given the same script. I’m in control of my own life; I can do whatever I want; if I just apply myself, all the doors in the world are open to me. Except it’s a load of shit. Worse, they know it’s a load of shit. They say the words, but they know what really happens.”

“So, what is it you want?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. A view as good as this, maybe.” There was a part of her that wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t let herself. What would be the point?

Fi

“Thanks.”

“It’s not much.”

“I know.”

“I really do want to help. So does Lissa. So does Kozlowski.”

She looked at him with a puzzled expression.

“Okay, I don’t know about Koz. He’s tough to read. I’m sure he’d want to help if he gave it any thought, though.”

Sally thought about it. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to help? Why does Lissa want to help? What do you care?”

Fi

“That it? My father’s a client, that’s why you’re helping me out?”

He nodded. “That’s why I agreed to take you in. I didn’t know you then.”

“And now?”

He shrugged. “I’d help you out even if you weren’t Devon ’s kid.”

“I guess that’s something,” she said.

“It’s a start,” he said. He reached out and tousled her hair. It was an awkward gesture, and her first instinct was to slap his hand away. In a strange way, though, she liked it. She couldn’t remember anyone ever doing that to her before. Most of the physical contact she’d had in the past had been either violent or inappropriate. Even her father, who clearly cared about her, seemed afraid to hug her.

She reached up and tousled his hair back. “It’s a start,” she agreed. Then she moved toward the window.

“One last thing,” he said.

“What?”

“You still shouldn’t smoke.”

She looked back over her shoulder at him. “Neither should you.”

Chapter Fourteen

Eddie Ballick stood at the edge of the water. There was no moon out that night, and a heavy layer of clouds blacked out the stars. The harbor was as dark as he’d ever seen it. He wondered briefly whether he was doing the right thing, but the thought was fleeting. He wasn’t someone who dwelled on such matters.

“Do you think he’s coming?”

The question came from Jimmy Kent. Jimmy had been with him for more than a decade. If Ballick had allowed himself to have friends, Kent might be one. Ballick viewed him as competent and trustworthy. Other considerations never entered his mind.

“I don’t know. There were only four of us, and he thinks one of us crossed him. Bulger’s gone; that leaves three. Rumor is he’s coming after us.” It was more than a rumor. Vince Murphy’s murder confirmed it as far as Ballick was concerned. Many people might have wanted Murphy dead, but Ballick could think of only one man who would carry out the job in the way it had been done. “Are we ready?”

Kent nodded. “Our three best guys. Positioned just the way you told me.”

“Good.”

“I wish we had more,” Kent said. “There’s still time to get some of the others.”

Ballick shook his head. “He’s too smart for that. If he thinks he’s outmatched, he’ll wait. I can’t surround myself forever. If he thinks I’m an easy target, he’ll come quickly, and we’ll be able to deal with him. Or not. Either way, it needs to happen now, and this is the best place for us.”

“What if they send others after him?”

“There are no others. It’s him, and that’s it. If he fucks it up, it’s over.”

Ballick had chosen a good spot; Liam had to give him credit for that. The shack was located on a narrow strip of land jutting out into the water, sandwiched in between a deserted boatyard and an open marsh that pushed up against the high metal fences of a gas station and two car dealerships. There was only one way in-a long narrow driveway with trees ru

Liam had been watching the place for more than a day. He kept tallies in his head of everyone coming or going, and watched the patterns of activity. He knew Ballick wasn’t alone. If his count was accurate, there were four others on the property. His count was always accurate.

Five men presented a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. Even the best that Boston ’s underworld had to offer had never been to war. They were little more than bullies, and they wouldn’t understand the principles of ambush and counterattack.

The key was determining where they were positioned. He could be pretty sure that Ballick would keep his most trusted man with him as a last line of defense. It was likely that two others would be hidden in the trees along the driveway-one on either side to catch him in a cross fire if possible. That left one more. Where he would be hidden was the main mystery. The driveway ended at a spot where the land broadened, and beyond was a parking lot and scrub that eased into the marsh. The property was littered with derelict boats up on cradles, stacks of docks and floats and lobster pots ready to be put into the water once the weather warmed, as well as piles of netting and unidentifiable junk. The place presented a thousand places for a sniper to sit and wait, fully concealed. If he guessed where among the mess the fourth man was hidden, he would make quick work of all of them. If he guessed wrong, he’d be dead before he was aware of his mistake.

Liam was concealed at the edge of an outcropping of small trees and bushes around twenty yards from the gate. From his position, he had a perfect view down the driveway, and could see the corner of the fishing shack in the distance. He was armed with his nine-millimeter, four clips, and his knife. Sean Broadark was in a car parked across the street, his head down. Liam’s instructions had been explicit, and he knew they would be obeyed. Broadark was a soldier.