Chapter 2 - One Round With the Devil
At 9:58 the next night, Cassidy entered the Kelletti Athletic Club.
The building looked abandoned from outside.
Inside, it was anything but.
An old boxing ring stood beneath industrial lights.
Twenty men surrounded it.
Dominic waited near the ropes.
Vincent was already inside.
Black training pants.
No shirt.
Tattoos covered his chest, shoulders, and arms.
Cassidy tossed her duffel onto a bench.
“You invited an audience?”
Vincent shrugged.
“They invited themselves.”
“I thought this was one round.”
“It is.”
“And afterward you tell me about my father.”
“If you’re still standing.”
Cassidy smiled.
“That confidence must be exhausting.”
Dominic handed her gloves.
“You can still leave.”
Cassidy looked at him.
“Why?”
Dominic lowered his voice.
“Because Patrick Gallagher got involved with people he shouldn’t have.”
“Kellettis?”
Dominic said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Cassidy climbed through the ropes.
Vincent raised his gloves.
“No head shots if you don’t want them.”
Cassidy laughed.
“What?”
“You think you’re protecting me?”
“I think you’re a waitress.”
Cassidy’s smile vanished.
“And I think you talk too much.”
The bell rang.
Vincent stepped forward.
Cassidy jabbed him immediately.
His head snapped back.
Men around the ring erupted.
Vincent touched his lip.
Cassidy bounced lightly on her feet.
“Still worried about my head?”
Vincent smiled.
“Not anymore.”
He came faster.
Cassidy slipped left.
Body shot.
Pivot.
Another jab.
Vincent blocked the next combination and pushed forward.
He was stronger.
Much stronger.
Cassidy was faster.
Thirty seconds passed.
Then sixty.
Vincent began understanding her rhythm.
Cassidy realized it.
She changed it.
Vincent threw a right.
Cassidy ducked beneath it and drove a compact hook into his ribs.
He staggered.
Dominic shouted,
“Time!”
Vincent ignored him.
He came again.
Cassidy saw the opening.
Left jab.
Right feint.
Vincent raised his guard.
Cassidy swept his balance with her shoulder and hip as he stepped in.
Vincent hit the canvas.
Silence.
Cassidy stood above him.
“You done?”
Vincent looked up.
Then he started laughing.
Dominic stared.
Nobody laughed at Vincent Kelletti after putting him on the floor.
Apparently Vincent did.
He stood.
“You’re Patrick’s daughter.”
“I told you that yesterday.”
“No.”
Vincent removed his gloves.
“Now I believe it.”
Cassidy removed hers.
“My turn.”
Vincent nodded toward an office.
“Come.”
Inside, Vincent locked the door.
Dominic joined them.
Cassidy folded her arms.
“Talk.”
Vincent opened an old metal cabinet.
He removed a ledger.
The paper looked at least fifteen years old.
He placed it on the desk.
Cassidy leaned over.
Shipping dates.
Container numbers.
Dock locations.
Payments.
Then she saw it.
P. GALLAGHER.
Her breath caught.
“What is this?”
Vincent answered quietly.
“Your father worked for my family.”
“No.”
“He did.”
“My father owned a boxing gym.”
“He also supervised freight at Pier Forty-Seven.”
Cassidy stared at the page.
Her father had died when she was nineteen.
Officially, his truck had gone off an icy road.
“What was he shipping?”
“That’s what I’m trying to determine.”
Cassidy looked up.
“Trying?”
Vincent turned several pages.
“Three months ago, I audited our old records. Containers disappeared. Money disappeared. Men disappeared.”
“And my father?”
Vincent tapped a page.
“He discovered it.”
Dominic spoke from behind them.
“Patrick came to my father.”
Cassidy turned.
“You knew him?”
“I was seventeen.”
“And you said nothing yesterday?”
Dominic looked ashamed.
“I promised him.”
“Promised him what?”
“That if anything happened, we’d keep you out of it.”
Cassidy slammed the ledger shut.
“He died!”
Dominic didn’t move.
“I know.”
“Who killed him?”
Vincent answered.
“We don’t know.”
Cassidy stared at him.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
Vincent reopened the ledger.
“But I think whoever killed your father is still stealing from me.”
He pointed at a recent shipping number.
The same code appeared beside Patrick Gallagher’s name fifteen years earlier.
Cassidy whispered,
“That’s impossible.”
May you like
Vincent looked at her.
“Unless Patrick left us a trail.”
