CHAPTER FORTY FOUR
Avery met everyone at a small, posh bar on Medford Street, just south of the Mystic River. The place was dark and busy with a young, hip crowd. She sat at a table with Thompson on her left, the small but fired-up Finley on her right, and a very somber Ramirez directly ahead. All of them wore layman’s clothing and seemed out of place in the happening joint.
“Thanks for coming,” Avery said to Ramirez.
“How could I say no?” He shrugged. “They stuck me with this asshole,” and he pointed a thumb over at Finley.
“Aw, come on,” Finley complained. “You blew it with Black. They gave you someone even better. You should be ecstatic to have me on your side.”
Avery stared at Ramirez.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “For everything. Truly.”
“It’s fine,” he mumbled. “It’s OK. Let’s just
