25 - Capital Murder

Janice opened the door for Maxim le Carre. He didn’t even see her. She smiled like she was used to getting tips out of assholes.

Maxim had entered last. Kirk and Katelyn sat at a small table. She had her eyes down, he had his jaw set. The coin box sat before them, nine Tyrean silver pieces sat in their recesses. Maxim’s frown showed how he counted.

Giselle waited at the counter, slowly explaining orders to Roxxi who zipped about brewing the coffees. It was a small cafe of 8 tables and two long counters. Natasha sat primly, one leg crossed over the other, at the far end of the far counter, as she sipped from an espresso. Hafnan’s face turned down the moment she saw the lack of the sympathy in Maxim’s. Natasha smirked, leaving her dark lipstick on the rim of the cup.

Maxim was more interested in the crowd. There were attractive girls. The blue-haired barista or the blonde with the sad eyes may have been even movie star worthy, and yet all were a clear waste of the coins. The girls didn’t matter, they were a show of station for Owen, or so Maxim surmised. The men concerned him.

Carlos, a hard-faced Phillipino man, showed the kind of iron will Maxim favored in his gendarmes. The lack of purpose, the unsure footing, Carlos wasn’t enough for Maxim, but in this little cafe, without Maxim’s own security, Carlos was clearly enough for Owen. The other one, Davy, a freckle faced haired boy of twenty-two? Twenty-five? Eighteen? Probably not still a teenager. He was tall and rail thin; he looked as capable of violence as a fly in a web.

Maxim didn’t expect violence. There would be no point, not from Owen’s end. None of Maxim’s money was accessible through force. The coins, almost all of them, were seated with Kirk. Maxim needed the middle man. Luckily, he saw in Natasha’s smugness, a frustrated sense of failure. She didn’t know what she was dealing with.

Neither did Owen.

Maxim sat down at Katelyn’s left. Giselle carried him over a small cup. He nodded a thank you.

“Monsieur MacKay? May we begin?” He smiled, politely across the room. It helped that the coffee wasn’t trash. The blue-haired girl could be a fun distraction, but no. Once Maxim was done with Owen, he had decided that he would be done with Canada and Canadians.

“Shortly,” Owen said.

“What is the hold up?” Kirk said, showing all of his contempt but keeping much of it from his voice.

“Girls, you’re not needed,” Owen said.

Hafnan, along with the other women in the room, got up or stood straighter and exchanged looks. Where would they go? Janice cleared her throat and reached for the employees only door.

“The staff dining room’s barely a stack of milk crates and half a meter of counter space,” Roxxi worried.

“We’re going to the office,” Janice said.

“No,” Owen said. “It makes more sense for us to take the office. There only needs to be four of us in there.”

“Five,” Natasha stood up. “I will not be--”

“I counted you in the four,” Owen said. He reached up to scratch his hair as he thought. Maxim saw the quick turn of Owen’s wrist. Maxim frowned.

“It is unimportant,” Maxim said. “Giselle?”

“Oh, Giselle! There’s the one I was missing,” Owen laughed. “Dess-soul-lay.”

“De rien,” she said, smiling at Owen’s attempt at French. The strange cadence of English speakers using her mother tongue aggravated her, except when it was Owen. She removed her smile and turned to Maxim.

“Nous sommes prêts?” he asked.

“Oui,” she nodded.

“I’m ready too!” Natasha interrupted. She stood smugly, hand on her hip.

“Good,” Owen said. “Anyway, I think it’d be better to negotiate in a bit of privacy.”

“What’s going on?” Davy leaned in and whispered to Darlene.

“Frenchie wants bling,” Darlene pointed and then to Owen. “Owen wants moolah. But Princess wants to steal daddy’s treasure.”

“Perhaps a bit of privacy would be in order,” Maxim said. “We will not be disturbed in the office?”

“Not unless someone calls the owner and he’s pissed I closed down the shop early,” Janice said. “FYI, I’m going to need all of these coffees paid for if I want to keep my job.”

“Why would you want to keep a barista job?” Tamara asked. “Your cousin is clearly looking to share his windfall.”

“Assistant manager not barista,” Janice countered.

“The deal has not gone through yet,” Owen said. “Don’t get premature.”

He walked over to the counter and handed Roxxi a twenty from his wallet. Maxim sent Giselle who did the same for himself, herself, Kirk, and Katelyn.

“I owe you both,” Elizabeth said, squeezing Davy’s elbow. Carlos pushed her back onto her stool.

“I’ll do it,” he said, standing and crossing the room.

Roxxi took the money, Janice unlocked the employees only door. Owen gestured with his hurt arm to enter.

“Jewelie!” Owen jumped when the short man angrily slapped his hand on the door.

Jewel covered her face with her hand and moved her chair to put Barbara between herself and the door.

“Just open the door, idiot,” Brett growled. Owen stiffened and looked to Elizabeth.

“I didn’t know he was coming.”

“We have business,” Maxim said. “I am tired of these meaningless distractions.”

“I’ll tell them we’re closed,” Roxxi volunteered, running around the counter as the door opened inward.

“What in the fuck is this?” The smallest man stomped in the loudest, reslinging a backpack on his shoulder.

“It’s what happens when a real man loves a woman, Paul.” Tamara spat fire as she stepped behind Owen and slipped her hand across his chest. “Jewelie’s got a scrumptious box, Paulie. Even loaded with cum.”

“Shut up!” Kirk growled, but no one spared him a glance as Brett, Jacob, and Paul walked across the floor. Natasha sneered. Katelyn watched. Zera slurped her drink around a big smile. Nothing got her hotter than a fight. She was such a cavewoman sometimes. Wendy tried to hide behind Zera. Zera slapped her hand onto Wendy’s thigh and started kneading the flesh.

“Jewelie explain!” Paul said.

“Uh...” Owen frowned looking at the three new arrivals.

“Brandy?” Jacob asked.

“We thought Jewelie just wanted coke and had a dealer in Halifax,” Barbara, the green-haired unmarried twin, shrugged. “And now this.”

“And now this,” Jacob nodded.

“And what the fuck is this?” Paul shouted again.

“Juvenile pointless bullshit,” Maxim said. “Let the children fight and let us do what we came here to do M. MacKay.”

“I think that would be wise,” Owen agreed.

“This is a fucking powderkeg,” Carlos said. “Handle the emergency and then go sell your little coins.”

Owen’s eyes flashed to Brett. Owen didn’t want to get hit again.

“What are you looking at me for?” Brett shook his head.

“We’re wondering why you’re here?” Davy said.

“You left, it was better that way,” Elizabeth said, after swallowing twice to find her voice.

“Except this was in my car.” Brett tossed the coin to Kirk. Kirk had the box, after all.

“Don’t touch that!” Maxim said.

“But--”

“Leave everything until we’re finished,” Maxim said. “Gentleman. Kindly fuck off. Your wives and girlfriends are whores. It happens to everyone.”

“Everyone,” Katelyn agreed, morosely. Kirk glared at her.

“I don’t give a shit,” Paul said. “Jewelie, get your ass out into the car.”

She looked to Owen. So did the twins. So did nearly every woman in the room. So did Brett. So did Jacob. Paul noticed. He also noticed the ones that didn’t. The rich man at the office door and the coin counter at the table watched Paul impatiently. The rich bitch and the head-scarfed girl just played on her phone or hung her head, shaking, respectively. The Phillipino and the tall slender guy, they all waited on Paul. Owen stepped away, like a coward.

“Motherfucker! Why are you so motherfucking interesting?” Paul shouted. “Seriously this is fucked up!”

“It makes no goddamn sense,” Carlos agreed.

“Maybe calm the fuck down?” Davy said.

“Maybe do something if you’re man enough to do it,” Natasha said, smirking out of the left side of her mouth as she put her phone down on her lap. “You too, Papa.”

Maxim looked at his daughter with venom. She turned white-faced and melted. Hafnan was even more afraid.

“Hang on, Paul.” Jacob put his hand on Paul’s shoulder but it was quickly shrugged off.

“What about your wife, Jake?” Paul gestured. “She’s thick as thieves with them as well.”

“Barbara?” Jacob asked.

“You tried to fuck Brandy,” Barbara sighed. She put her arm around her green-highlighted-haired twin sister. “You know why you’re here.”

“You tried to fuck your wife’s twin sister?” Brett scoffed. “Dude, how drunk were you?”

“Really drunk,” Barbara said.

“Not as drunk as he wanted to be to mask it as an excuse,” Brandy said.

“If we are finished with this sophomoric lycee gossiping, we could finish our business and my daughter and I could leave you to the fruits of your ... intelligence,” Maxim said to Owen.

“No one’s doing any fucking business until I have some answers,” Paul said.

“He owns our bodies,” Elizabeth said.

“Yeah, that sums it up,” Jewelie said.

“Yes, yes, they’re all whores,” Natasha said. “My offer is a thumb tap away, Owen. Clearly you have other problems. My money will help you with your prostitutes. And then we’ll all be finished.”

“What the fuck?” Davy said, while Paul fumed scraping at an ounce of rage. “What in the backwards horseshit are you talking about? Owns your bodies? Carlos let’s fucking go.”

“No,” Carlos said. He turned his back on Natasha and stared down Owen. “I’m not leaving Darlene with this man. Let alone Lizzie.”

“Elizabeth!” Elizabeth corrected strongly. “Not Lizzie! not Liz! not Beth! No one fucking listens to me! Only Owen ever stopped using those stupid pet names! Maybe I’m happy with him!”

“Elizabeth, I’m sorry,” Carlos said, looking ashamed. He looked to Brett. “If she is happy with him. Maybe you dodged a bullet?”

“The fuck I did,” Brett said.

“Oh, and fuck you Carlos,” Darlene smiled.

“Enough! Jewelie is not a whore! Barbara and Brandy are not whores! Get in the fucking car! We can sort this out at home!”

“They’re not going home with you,” Owen said. He stood up straight. “I’ve got work to do. We can sort out our bullshit later.” He took a deep breath. Not used to having to take charge and it took a lot out of him. Janice smiled. Roxxi gave him the thumbs up. Tamara wrapped her arm tighter around Owen’s chest. “Peter and Jack?”

“Paul and Jacob,” Brandy said helpfully.