His Quiet Executioner

I was raised inside the family and taught to carry messages I pretended not to understand. Now I work a real job in a county title office and I used my badge to alter one deed, which was supposed to be the end of it. It wasn't. A capo named Grey Belov came to find me after closing and told me the deed belonged to the wrong people and that the wrong people had already filed a complaint in my handwriting. I should have run then. Instead he took me to lunch and then to a cabin in the thumb and taught me the first rule. Nothing you sign. Nothing you're seen signing. Then my uncle called for Sunday dinner, and Grey showed up unarmed, and everything after that was a decision. He put his name on the family's response list. I put his name back on the family's payroll. We spent a winter in a cabin with no service, and I learned to like it. In spring I went back to the broker with a file. Somebody had to.