The Tale of the Wolf (The Kenino Wolf Series) by Cyrus Chainey

bastard. But he won’t pick up. His own brother is lying on some cold slab in a mortuary all by himself, and he’s off gallivanting.’ The tears returned to her bloodshot eyes. I held her closer.
    ‘ They ask you anything else?’ I was trying to change the subject.
    ‘ Who?’
    ‘ The police.’
    ‘ Just some general bullshit. Did he have any enemies, people who may have wanted to hurt him?’ She was smiling as she said it. ‘Can you imagine that? Enemies. Like he was some kinda gangster. What gangster? He was a doughnut, little Baba. My silly little Baba. Why is he dead, Wolfy?’ her voice pleaded for an answer. ‘What happened to my little Baba?’
    ‘ I don't know why he's dead, Maris. I don't know why anyone would want to kill Longy.’
    ‘ What? What do you mean kill?’ she exclaimed.
    ‘ Didn't they tell you he was murdered?’ I hadn’t intended to tell her. I didn’t want to inform her of anything, but somehow it had slipped out.
    ‘ What? They only told me it was suspicious.’
    ‘ Suspicious was right. There was a guy with a machine gun.’ It was all coming out now.
    ‘ How d’ya know this?’
    ‘ Didn’t they tell you I found him?’
    ‘ No!’ There was a lost look to her, utter bewilderment. The only relative she actually cared about was gone, and the facts had been kept from her. Bosley was being circumspect. I understood why. In his world only the provable was uttered. But at the same time, a little compassion wouldn't have harmed.
    ‘ I thought you knew I found him. I thought you knew I was there.’ The sadness was washing back in like a returning tide, drowning the idlers on the beach.
    ‘ They never said nothing. All they made me do was identify him. Make sure it was him.’ The anger was competing with the grief inside her. I could see the battle in her face.
    ‘ Nothing else,’ I returned. ‘That's the police for ya. They never say anything unless they know it for sure.’ I didn't want to mention that Bosley thought I was involved or, at the very least, wanted me to be, which might have explained some of his reticence in being informative.
    ‘ I want to know what happened, Wolfy. And no bullshit ... everything!’ The anger had won, the tears were gone, dried by the fire in her eyes.
    I was up to my neck in it now and had to give Marisol the full story, well as much as I knew.
    ‘ You sure?’ I was trying to protect her from some of the more gruesome bits of Longy's demise.
    ‘ Just tell me. Tell me everything.’ Her voice was stern and commanding. Steel pumped through her veins.
    I started from the beginning: told her how I'd bumped into Longy at The Hanging Man; how he'd told me to meet him at his for three; how I'd got there early, broken down the door; told her about the guy in the cowboy hat with the machine gun. I even told her about the pepperoni. And because the look in her eyes frightened me so much, I even told her about Bosley, explaining how he wanted to send me down, and hoped I was involved. She knew it was bullshit, knew I loved Longy.
    Bosley's name rang a bell though. He’d been less than courteous. Policeman’s scepticism. Look to the family first. When I’d finished she asked me.
    ‘ Do you have any idea who that guy was?’
    ‘ No,’ I replied.
    ‘ You’re going to find out.’ It was less a question and more a statement; a command. ‘And when you do, you’re going to tell me.’ There was no emotion in her voice. No sign in her tone of what she was thinking. But it was blazoned across her eyes. She was a Mediterranean woman, and there was fire in her heart and vengeance in her soul. Someone had taken her dearest kin, and she’d level the kingdoms of Heaven and Hell to get revenge.
    And she'd decided then and there that I was going to help her. The fact I'd already decided to dig around was neither here nor there. If I hadn't been before, Marisol had decided that I was now.
    I understood her need for vengeance. Understood the way revenge