by K. L. Hiers
“Enjoy tonight,” Cold said, squeezing gently. “Forget your troubles and have fun.”
“Easier said than done.” Jimmy took a hesitant sip of wine to calm his nerves.
“Good evening, sweeties!” Rowena’s voice called out, the click of her heels announcing her presence long before her voice did. She was wearing a slinky gold dress and had Dario at her side. “Don’t you both look adorable?”
Jimmy grinned, quickly hugging Rowena and kissing her cheek. “Hi! How are you, Roe?”
“Mmm, I’m just dandy,” she purred, affectionately nudging Jimmy’s hip. “Has my dear brother revealed his great master plan to you yet?”
“I’m standing right here,” Cold remarked dryly, “and no, I haven’t because none of you need to know.”
“Nope! And we’re totally good with not knowing!” Dario piped up, shaking Jimmy’s hand and waving at Cold. “We have no reason at all to know anything at all!”
Cold stared blankly.
“Dario,” Rowena sighed, and she petted his shoulder. “I know you’re trying. Uhm. Try a little less, okay, baby boy?”
“Got it,” Dario said nervously.
It couldn’t be easy dating the little sister of the city’s most powerful criminal.
Cold ignored Dario and embraced his sister as he said firmly, “Everything is under control.”
“Says the guy with the cute new ankle accessory,” Rowena snapped briskly. “Come on! The Luchesis have already tried to kill you once, and now they’re dragging you and Jimmy all over the news! Tell me what’s going on!”
“No.”
Rowena planted her hands on her hips and gave her brother her most deadly glare. When it didn’t work, she turned it on Jimmy. “Well?”
“Trust your brother,” Jimmy said with a shrug, offering Cold a small smile. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“Ugh.” Rowena stalked over to the bar and smothered a few curses with some cheese. “You just wait until Maury gets here! He’ll talk!”
“When does he not?” Cold sat down by the fireplace with a grimace.
“You seriously holding up okay?” Dario asked Jimmy, his brow wrinkled in concern. “I know there’s a lot of heavy crap going on. I mean, I don’t know exactly, which is fine. But are you okay?”
“I’m good,” Jimmy replied, not sure who he was trying to convince. “Really.”
“Uh, congratulations by the way!” Dario exclaimed cheerfully. “Rowena told me you and Cold tied the knot! You’re a mafia husband now!”
“Something like that,” Jimmy grumbled.
“The wedding is in two weeks,” Cold said firmly. “We need to finish planning.”
“Aw! You haven’t finished yet?” Rowena gushed, her attention fully focused on Jimmy now. “Oooh, you have to let me help! I’m so good at this!”
“You’ve planned weddings before?” Jimmy was skeptical.
“No!” Rowena huffed. “But I’ve planned parties! And that’s all a wedding is, right? A big giant party! Come on! Pretty please?”
“Of course,” Jimmy agreed instantly. He would take anything to get out of having to hang out with Charlie alone. “Our wedding planner is insane. He’s this nutty British dude who’s seriously suspicious.”
“Suspicious, am I?” Charlie’s voice cut in with a smile. He was at the doorway with Jerry, helping him carry in trays of wineglasses for everyone. “How quaint.”
Jimmy clicked his teeth together when he realized he was gawking. He nervously accepted a fresh glass of wine as he stammered, “Y-you’ve gotta admit, you have a really weird way of always showing up at the strangest times.”
“Like tonight!” Charlie agreed with a hearty laugh. “Until I arrived, Jerry was going to prepare and serve dinner for six all by himself. Can you believe it?”
“I can handle myself, Monsieur Swenson,” Jerry said, blushing furiously.
“I’m happy to help you handle whatever you’d like,” Charlie teased. He smiled as he walked through the room to offer out wine to Dario and Rowena.
“Mm, I like him,” Rowena said, greedily drinking her wine.
Jimmy wanted to tear out his hair. He was shocked that no one else seemed to find Charlie as off-putting as he did.
“He sounds like a Bond villain,” Dario mumbled, catching Jimmy’s eye and nodding firmly in a show of solidarity.
Okay, one other person.
“So! You’re the wedding planner, huh?” Rowena asked brightly. “What are you thinking for my big brother and his little sweetie?”
“I haven’t the foggiest,” Charlie confessed. “Mr. Poe hasn’t exactly been very, uh, cooperative with the decision making.”
“Oh!” Rowena frowned at Jimmy. “Really?”
“I don’t want a wedding,” Jimmy huffed stubbornly. “Especially not some big party with gangsters and politicians and whatever. This is ridiculous.”
“Jimmy,” Rowena chided. “There has to be something you want!”
Jimmy looked helplessly at Cold, who said nothing, finally replying in frustration, “If I was ever gonna get married, I would want to do it at the beach! Barefoot, everybody in jeans! Just... relaxed and quiet and simple. Just our family and closest friends.”
“That sounds boring as hell,” Rowena snorted. “No, we definitely need to jazz it up a bit. Jazz! Oh, yes! What about a New Orleans theme?”
“Oh! We could get a live jazz band!” Charlie suddenly squealed. “Instead of a traditional guestbook, we could get a New Orleans-style cookbook and have everyone sign in the margins!”
“We could totally have a bananas foster station!” Rowena started excitedly smacking Charlie’s arm. “Oh, oh! Masks! We could make masks for everyone! Like a masquerade ball!”
“Yes! That sounds splendid!”
Jimmy sighed defeatedly as he watched Rowena and Charlie enthusiastically plan a wedding he wanted nothing to do with. He flopped on the couch and chugged his wine, smiling graciously as Jerry immediately brought him another. “Thanks, Jerry.”
“You’re welcome, monsieur,” Jerry said with a wink. “Quand le vin est tiré, il faut le boire.”
“Sorry,” Jimmy said with a wince. “I don’t understand.”
“When the wine is drawn, one must drink it,” Jerry explained. “You’ve already taken the first step, monsieur. You must move forward now.”
“Uh... thanks, Jerry. I still have no idea what you mean, but thank you.”
“Of course, monsieur. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.” Jerry took his empty tray and the one from Charlie, nodding respectfully to Cold before swishing away to the kitchen.
Dario came to sit beside Jimmy, saying quietly, “So, yeah. Your wedding planner dude? He’s already talking to Rowena about planning ours. I’m totally on Team Jimmy. This dude needs to go.”
“I appreciate it,” Jimmy said with a wry grin.
“He looks familiar,” Dario mused. He glanced over at Charlie with a frown. “I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before.”
“He did say he looks really great on camera,” Jimmy snorted. “Maybe you saw him in a movie or something?”
“Something,” Dario agreed.
“All I know is he’s bad news,” Jimmy said firmly, and he sipped his wine with a scowl.
“Who are you telling?” Dario made a face. “I haven’t even asked Rowena to marry me because I like living, and now I don’t know which Legrand is gonna kill me first. Rowena for not giving her a ring yet or her brother for asking!”
“Ah, you’ll be fine,” Jimmy promised, glancing to where Cold had gotten up from his seat to greet their next guest. “I think Rod is warming up to you. He doesn’t stare at you like he wants to kill you anymore, so that’s progress!”
“The fuckin’ wallpaper in this damn joint probably costs more than my fuckin’ car,” Maury was rumbling as he shuffled into the living room. He made a low grunt and stared all around at the fine furnishings, declaring, “Fuck, yous guys really are shittin’ in
high cotton, ain’t ya’?”
“Hello, Mr. Martine,” Cold said cordially, offering his hand to Maury. “A pleasure as always.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Maury eyed Cold warily. “Thanks for makin’ them charges go away. I appreciate it.”
“Of course, I’m happy to—”
Maury suddenly yanked Cold close by the grip of their hands, growling low, “But if you think this changes shit between me an’ you, you’re fuckin’ dead ass wrong.”
“Pardon?” Cold flinched, his entire body tensing from the prolonged physical contact.
“I told yous if Jimmy ever got hurt again, I was gonna come for your ass,” Maury warned, glaring up at Cold fearlessly. “I was gonna haunt you and flash my wrinkly balls in your face for all of fuckin’ eternity. Do you remember, huh?”
“Impossible to forget,” Cold said calmly. “Change your mind, hmm?”
Jimmy clenched his hand around his wineglass so tightly that he thought it might break, and he was unable to tear his eyes away from the tense exchange.
Dario and Rowena were watching with the same horrified fascination of watching a car wreck, silent and waiting for the end. Charlie was equally speechless and appeared a bit confused, as if wondering why Cold hadn’t shot Maury yet.
“Fuck you, you smug prick! Now, you listen fuckin’ good!” Maury grunted. “I ain’t about that wrinkly ball shit no more. That’s too good for the likes of you.”
“Oh, is it?” Cold asked politely.
“Lemme tell you what I’m gonna do now,” Maury snarled. “I’m gonna whack my little ghost dick all over this fuckin’ fancy place and leave my sticky ass ghost spunk fuckin’ everywhere. And I mean fuckin’ everywhere. You remember Ghostbusters? That fucker who got slimed in the hallway? That’s gonna be you and this whole fuckin’ house. Imma cover every inch of it in my own personal fuckin’ juicy ectoplasm. You won’t be able to take one fuckin’ step without my ghost jizz stickin’ to your toes. You fuckin’ feel me?”
“Charming as always, Mr. Martine.” Cold wrenched his hand away.
“Fuck you very kindly,” Maury said, huffing as he strolled over to Jimmy and snatched his wineglass. He chugged it all back with a quick gasp. “Shit!”
“Jimmy, your friends are always such a delight,” Cold said, taking out his handkerchief to wipe off his hand, doubtlessly damp from Maury’s sweating palms.
“You’re the best, Maury.” Jimmy laughed and gave Maury a big hug.
“You sure you’re okay, kid?” Maury asked firmly, cuffing the back of Jimmy’s head. “All your parts where they’re s’pose to be and all that?”
“I’m fine,” Jimmy insisted. “Just a little sore. Ghost jizz threats are totally unnecessary.”
“But hilarious!” Dario piped up.
Cold glared.
“No,” Dario quickly amended. “No, no, they’re not.”
“Hi, Papa Maury,” Rowena cooed, sweeping in to kiss Maury’s cheek and make him blush. “So glad you could finally join us!”
“Eh, you know this really ain’t my scene, doll face,” Maury said, straightening himself up and grinning at Rowena. “I wouldn’t give a nickel to see Christ ridin’ a fuckin’ bike. This fancy stuff is a lot for me, okay?”
“I think you’re doing great,” she said sweetly, booping his nose.
Maury grumbled, but didn’t protest any further.
“Did you like the new infirmary?” David’s voice was asking, getting louder as he approached. Judging by the footsteps and conversation, he wasn’t alone.
“It’s nice! I kinda miss the rusty staple gun, but you’ve really done a great job cleanin’ it up, Doc!” Mickey Tamerlane, out of prison already. He actually smiled when he saw Jimmy, a crooked leer that was incredibly unsettling. “Hey, Jimmy. How’s it goin’?”
“Hey! Welcome back!” Jimmy nodded politely at the assassin and stepped in to hug his father. “Hey, Dad!”
“Heya, slugger,” David sighed, clapping his hand across Jimmy’s back. “Still in one piece, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jimmy laughed. “I’m okay.”
Tamerlane swept around them to kneel before Cold, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Boss.”
“It’s done?” Cold asked casually, motioning for Tamerlane to rise.
“All taken care of,” Tamerlane promised. “They’ll find it soon if they haven’t already.”
“Good.” Cold moved to shake David’s hand. “David, good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too, Roderick,” David greeted. “How’s the head?”
“Fine. Stitches should be out any day now.”
“I could take a look if you’d like,” David offered.
“Perhaps later,” Cold said politely. “If you all will excuse us, Tamerlane and I need to have a little chat.” He kissed Jimmy’s cheek, murmuring, “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Have fun!” Jimmy said, blushing because he had no idea what else to say to an obviously clandestine meeting.
The moment Cold and Tamerlane left, Rowena tore herself away from Charlie and pounced on Jimmy. “Okay! Now! You freakin’ spill! What the hell is going on?”
“Well, uh...” Jimmy was panicked, and he glanced helplessly around the room. There wasn’t anywhere he could hide where Rowena wouldn’t be able to find him.
Then again, she was wearing heels; maybe he could try to outrun her.
“I can tells ya’,” Maury said with a sly smirk, stuffing little sausages in his mouth from the tray at the bar. “Rumor is, ya’ boy Tamerlane didn’t go into prison to whack nobody.”
“What?” Jimmy stared at Maury. That didn’t make any sense. “But the riot?”
“Happy accident,” Maury replied, licking his lips. “He was really there to plant somethin’.”
“There’s no way he could have snuck something into prison,” Jimmy argued, pausing for a moment as he remembered something very interesting.
Lorre was supposed to have visited Tamerlane in the infirmary to deliver a message. It did seem odd that Cold would have gone to all the trouble of having Tamerlane be arrested just for Lorre to later sneak into prison to give him verbal instructions. It could be that the message wasn’t a message at all, but perhaps it was code for something that Lorre was bringing to Tamerlane for him to plant.
Jimmy immediately clammed up as he was quite certain that he wasn’t supposed to say anything.
“The little birdies are all sayin’ this prosecutor guy is on the Luchesis’ payroll, and Cold is settin’ him up,” Maury went on, always happy to gossip and definitely loving that he had Rowena’s full attention. “That guy in prison? I broke his uncle’s knees this one time—you know, allegedly—I know that whole screwed-up family.”
“Oh, really?” Rowena petted Maury’s arm with a sweet smile. “Tell me more, Maury baby.”
“They were real small time crooks,” Maury said. “You know, petty theft, maybe some arson, shit like that. They used to run errands for the Luchesis, doin’ all the bullshit none of the made guys wanted to do. I’d be willin’ to bet the Luchesis named him because of his ties to the family... and he’s expendable.”
“But I thought you just said Tamerlane wasn’t sent in there to kill him?” Jimmy protested.
“He won’t,” Maury replied with a snort, “but think about it, kid. Why risk somebody you actually give a shit about? Instead of nominating any of their own top guys to testify against Cold, they pick on this piece of shit dude who’s already in fuckin’ prison.”
“Who was probably more than happy to make a deal with Mr. Shithead Prosecutor to get some years off his time,” Rowena said thoughtfully. “Poor bastard. Mm, well, he’s dead now.”
“So’s Waugh,” Maury said with a shrug.
David had drifted over to the bar, glancing at the charcuterie tray but not taking anything to eat. “Doesn’t look good for whoever that last witness is, does it?”
“Who is the last one?” Rowena demanded. “Some more Luchesi trash?
”
“Whoever he or she is, they’re most likely in federal custody for their own protection at this point,” David said with a wry smile. “I don’t know if even Cold can get to them.”
“There’s always a way,” Charlie suddenly chimed in, grinning sheepishly when everyone turned to stare at him. “Apologies, it’s just such an exciting conversation.”
“Maybe one we shouldn’t be having in front of strangers,” Jimmy said with a faint scowl. He still didn’t trust Charlie one bit. Cold may have vouched for him, but Jimmy still couldn’t shake his suspicions.
“Oh, I’m very trustworthy,” Charlie said with a bright smile. “I do just find all of this so fascinating!”
“Darling, I’m sure you do,” Rowena said with a bat of her eyes. She looked wary for a moment, perhaps catching the same bad vibes Jimmy was, but then she redirected her attention to Maury. “What other dirt you got?”
“Well.” Maury waggled his eyebrows excitedly. “Maybe not related to the case, but I can tells ya’ that Geemaw has been mighty active for a lady of her age.”
“The grandma lady who used to work for the SSPD?” Dario blinked. “Didn’t she like tamper with evidence or something?”
“She really liked copying confidential police reports,” Jimmy replied. “Used to be a gangster’s girlfriend, right?”
“Oh, yeah.” Maury chuckled. “Back in the day, everybody wanted a piece of that lady. She was hot stuff! She had some cop boyfriend, but it didn’t last. She liked her boys bad, you know what I mean?”
“Oh, I definitely do.” Jimmy couldn’t help but blush when he realized what he’d said out loud and quickly cleared his throat. “So, what is she up to?”
“She’s been all up and down at the city courthouse,” Maury said mysteriously. “Looking up records or some shit, and then she started selling off all of her property. Turns up, little miss Geemaw owned herself a big ol’ chunk of the city.”
Charlie was curiously silent now, nibbling on some cheese and finding the floor fascinating.
“Really?” Jimmy frowned thoughtfully. “Did she happen to own the deli where Marco’s body was found?”
“Dunno, but it’s mighty interesting.”