“Sounded like they think our cut’s too big for them, like they want to take your, I mean our, service in-house.”

Johnny Boy chuckled, waving Spencer into an alley behind a row of stores. “Yeah, well that wasn’t the first time I’ve heard that kind of sentiment. Funny thing is, though, something always comes along to distract them.”

What Johnny Boy neglected to mention was that he, McGrath, Cal, and the Yo-Yo would be bossing it at Algernon’s seafood restaurant over on Grosse Pointe that Friday. Hearing what Pucky had to say was too good not to celebrate. They’d be asking the Yo-Yo to treat the table to his Spanish as he performed his bare-hand party trick on everybody’s lobster claws. Or maybe they’d invite everyone: Denny, new boy Eddie, maybe even Spencer for the laugh of hearing him speak. But if they did that, then they’d keep quieter about what they were celebrating. Careful was how Dom liked to roll, and Johnny Boy was down with that. Finding out Rosso had been a snitch had shaken the hell out of everyone. Needless risks were for their clients in the Game.

For the next few hours, Spencer and Johnny Boy visited three respectable-looking businesses in Livonia: a bakery, an Italian restaurant, and a barber. The money they’d picked up from Nately Place was handed over slickly with a handshake. School photographs were shown off by the manager while a bag of clean money was handed back in a food hamper. Business was roaring in the suburbs.

And while Spencer drove in that special way of his, he assimilated the additional precautions that Johnny Boy had insisted on. He did it willingly, intuitively. There was something exciting about the job. Maybe it was seeing just how much money was flying around.

“You only hand money to the name written next to that company on the board in Dom’s office, Spencer. If he isn’t there looking out for you as you pull up, you can put your head around the door, but think of a reason why. Other than leaving him some money. He might have some for you. If he does, you check it, message me the amount, and I message you what to do with it. Maybe come back to the depot for some new drop-off locations.”

Johnny Boy removed the last bag from the speaker case before they hit the road again.

“See this, Spencer? Bigger, right? That’s because we’ve got a moving drop. If it’s a moving drop, then that gets a third to a half of whatever you pick up.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see,” said Johnny Boy, not looking up as he read a message on his phone. “Head up Farmington and take a left on Lyndon.”