Coffee & Criminals

5. Tunnels

"I do." He had the audacity to smirk. His eyes flickered to me, briefly holding a leveled stare until I looked away uncomfortably. "I am well aware of my reputation. And as for my reasons why, you'll find all the information you need in this file." Wolfe slid a manilla folder across the table.

Dad picked it up and leafed through the papers inside. There were several thick packets of information, as well as documents that looked suspiciously like contract agreements, and what appeared to be blueprints of a building. I peered over his shoulder curiously, but I didn't understand a single bit of anything that was inside. From the looks of it, neither did my father. He closed the folder and put it back down on the table, frowning. "I'm sorry, I still don't understand."

"The tunnels, Mr. Remy." Wolfe said quietly. "We need the tunnels in the cellar."

"Okay, but what do you need it for?" Unable to say silent, I had to ask. The curiosity was killing me. Wolfe glared at me, but didn't lose his temper like he did before. "The tunnels don't go anywhere, and the only exit from them is out back, near the Simmons Law Firm building-"

The hum of the espresso machine suddenly began, startling us all. Pretty soon, the trickling noise of the liquid (it sounded like pee) followed.

"The tunnels do lead somewhere." Wolfe reached over, opened the folder, and slid out one of the blueprints. He pointed to a bunch of square line things that represented what could only be the mazeway under the coffee shop. "Somewhere very important. Or rather, they connect certain places that we need to access. The easiest way to them is through the tunnels that run beneath the sewer lines of Brooklyn. The floors under the Espresso House have a huge cluster of entrances. You just never had the courage to explore deep enough, Florence." Smirk. "Scared of the dark?"

Oh. If my parents weren't here right now, the things I would do to him...

"We don't want any association with mobsters." Dad spoke up sharply. "It's bad business. If the police find you, and they will  find you, they'll drag us along with you. Please, we don't want any trouble. With all due respect, this is silly. You're trespassing on my property. Tell me why I shouldn't call the cops right now and end this-"

"How much do you want?" Wolfe cut him off. He seemed to be getting more and more irritated with my parent's refusal to give up their business. "I'm sure I can pay enough to-"

"We're not going to put a price on this." I snapped. "Get the hint, you dick. We're not selling. And we're not giving you any ownership of this business."

Wolfe raised his eyebrows in amusement. He leaned back on the chair and watched me carefully for a few seconds. I felt my cheeks flush under his scrutiny. I don't think anyone else felt the weight of his gaze like I did, especially since most of them were directed at me. Finally, Wolfe looked away. He smiled, but there was nothing nice about it. "How about 3 million? For everything. I'll pay in cash. You take the money and I take the shop."

"That's not happening." I muttered.

"I didn't ask for your  opinion." Wolfe growled.

"And we didn't ask you to come here." Without thinking, the words slipped past my lips. I felt both Mom and Dad stiffen at the remark. Brice chuckled but tried to smother it before Wolfe heard. But Wolfe had ears like a wolf and he heard everything. Glaring at Brice first, Wolfe stood up. His hand fell to his gun and at that point, I wanted a hole to open up in the middle of the floor and swallow me up just so I could be spared of the look he gave me.

"Let's try this again." He said softly. Behind Wolfe, his three guys posed in an intimidating stance and tried to look threatening. They had all picked up their guns too. "I tried to take this the nice way, but I guess it's not working. Allow me to give you some motivation, Mr. Remy."