Thieves Like Us by Starr Ambrose

jewelry back, the fence is safe. There’s no reason to connect me to him, or the guy who sold it last year. The bad guys stop looking for it, the fence lives, and my lady friend is out of danger.”
    “And you bring to me. I use international contacts, sell to highest bidder, split with you eighty-twenty.”
    Rocky smiled, only partly at the low percentage being offered him. “Not exactly. I take them to the FBI. Game over.”
    Vasili looked crushed, shaking his big head. “Dick-head move. No one make money.”
    “But everyone stays safe.”
    “
Pfft.
” He sulked over the loss of income for several seconds. “You not so good businessman, Rocky. Could make lots money. But . . . your loss. You want name of fence? No skin off my nose. They find him, less competition for me.” Vasili rubbed his chin again, thinking. “Had to be someone not know business too good, or never would have sold necklace, right? Who not recognize Pellinni Jewels?” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling over such incomprehensible ignorance. Then squinted as inspiration struck. “I know guy like this on West Side. Stupid shit. Don’t know name. Not important. Like mosquito, I only swat him if get in my way.” He sketched a map on a piece of paper, marking a spot with an
X,
then indicating major roads with a blunt forefinger. “This Evergreen, this Fenkell. Store on side street here. Called “Treasures,” or “Fortunes.” Some shit like that.”
    Rocky folded the paper and tucked it in a pocket. “Thanks, Vasili.”
    “You tell me what happens.”
    “I will.”
    “And don’t be stranger. Keep in touch.”
    Not if he could avoid it. “I might come by more often if you’d buy another damn stool to sit on.”
    Vasili laughed and came around the counter, opening the door for Rocky and waving good-bye, his usual routine. Rocky was sure if he walked out alone he’d never make it to the front door of the barber shop without being tackled. The escort was for Rocky’s safety.
    Leaving was a relief, and not just because he had a lead on the necklace. Stepping back into the world of petty thieves, crime cartels, and armed bodyguards felt like walking in deep muck, the stink clinging to his clothes and dirtying everything he touched. He strode across the street to the abandoned parking lot where he’d left the Lexus, intent on getting out of this crumbling section of Detroit as fast as he could.
    The Lexus was no longer alone in the lot. A yellow corvette was parked nearby, a man leaning against it as he waited. Rocky took in the studied indifference as the man watched him, finally flicking his cigarette to the ground and straightening as Rocky reached the lot.
    Shit.
Easy Joey, the last person he ever wanted to see again.
    “Thought this was your car.” Easy strolled around it to the driver’s side, obviously satisfied with his sharp memory.
    “Figured that out, huh?” He pulled the keys from his pocket and jingled them impatiently.
    Easy had never tuned in to subtleties. Or maybe he was ignoring this one. “Heard you were out.”
    Rocky lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve been out for more than a year. That news is a bit out of date.”
    “And yet I never get tired of remembering that you went to jail.”
    His jaw tightened. “I’ll bet.” Easy was the one responsible for putting him there.
    “How was it? I’ve never been, myself.”
    He’d give anything to wring the bastard’s neck. “Interesting place. I made lots of new friends.” He allowed a cool smile.
    Easy’s expression hardened. “Are you threatening me, Hernandez?”
    Rocky allowed a short laugh. “I’m not that interested in you, Easy. And I’m leaving.” He hit the remote button to unlock the car, waiting for Easy to stand aside. The idiot stepped toward him instead.
    “Well, I’m not done with you.”
    Was the twerp really confronting him? He knew Easy was prone to rash moves but was surprised his anger could blind him to the obvious fact that he was a