by Carsen Taite
Siobhan ignored Dominique’s questioning look and stepped closer to Carlo, who embraced her with a rare show of affection. “Patatino,” he said, using the endearment she remembered from her youth. “You must be more careful.”
“I will. Michael is looking into it.”
“Siobhan will outlive us all, Poppa,” Dominique said. This time her voice held more edge than tease.
“She may,” Carlo said. “She is made of strong stuff.” He patted Siobhan’s arm. “Bring Michael’s report to me personally. This deed will not go unpunished.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Siobhan saw Dominique tilt her glass and down the rest of her martini. Time to change the subject before the mood in the room shifted into a darker space. “Court went well today. The judge sided with us. Jimmy’s case was dismissed.” She paused for a moment, knowing she had to tell the whole story or risk it coming back to bite her later. “For now. This prosecutor will keep coming, and I expect if there is any way he can bolster the evidence he has, he’ll refile the case. Jimmy understands he’s to lay low for now. He’s not happy about not working, but I was clear it’s not an option.”
“He’ll try to work,” Carlo said, shaking his head.
“I explained to him that is not an option. Under any circumstances,” Siobhan said.
“He doesn’t need to work. His family will be fine,” Dominique said. “Believe me, I arranged for the delivery myself.”
Carlo frowned at Dominique’s tone. “His wife and children are innocent, and we have an obligation to make sure they are taken care of. I would do the same for any one of you.”
Siobhan was certain she understood the meaning, even if he wouldn’t say the exact words in front of her. If Jimmy tried to work, to expose the family in any way, his family might be fine, but he would be out of the picture. She understood the consequence as well as if he’d outlined it for her, but without hearing the exact words, she was insulated from whatever might happen if Jimmy broke the family rules. She’d been as insulated as possible from the start. “Of course, Don.”
“Sit, both of you,” he said. “There’s something else we need to discuss.”
Siobhan shot a look at the closed office door, wondering again why she and Dominique were the only ones present for this meeting and assuming the worst. Carlo’s next words confirmed her suspicions.
“I wish I could say I was surprised by what happened to our precious Siobhan today, but I’m not. This is only the beginning. I’m getting reports from our capos. Several of our businesses have suffered significant losses lately—theft of merchandise, vandalism, poor reviews. Someone is working to betray the family.”
Chapter Four
Royal walked out of her debrief session and wandered through the US Attorney’s office looking for her boss, half hoping he’d have already bugged out for the weekend. No such luck. SAC Mark Wharton was waiting for her in a conference room, and he stood to greet her when she walked in.
“Have a seat,” he said, motioning to a chair across the table from where he’d been seated.
She hesitated. “I was hoping this would be a quick, stand and talk kind of conversation.”
“It’s not.”
Resigned, but not defeated, she sat in the chair across from his desk but didn’t settle in. “Debrief went fine.”
“You did great work.”
“Is that why I’m no longer on the case?”
“It’s easier this way. Sending you back in would’ve raised too many questions. We have plenty on the Garzas at this point. Like I said, you did good work.”
“Fine. Then you won’t mind if I take a nice long vacation.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s new.”
He wasn’t wrong. She’d banked weeks of well-earned days off, and she couldn’t remember ever taking more than one day off at a time, and even then, it was usually to take care of an errand, not for recreation. “Is that a problem?”
“It’s not, but the timing may be off. We have an emergent situation.”
There it was. She tensed at the dread of what he was about to ask. “I’m not your only agent.”
“True, but you’re my best. You have only yourself to blame. I need someone who can jump in without a lot of prep time.”
“And if I say no?”
“I’m not actually asking, but don’t make me say that.”
“I could quit.”
“Sure, you could. Give up your retirement. Is that what you really want?”
It was a fair question, but she wasn’t sure she had a ready answer. She’d thought about quitting before, but the idea had never been serious, and she’d sure never said it out loud. Speaking the words now sparked a relieved burst of freedom. She could get another job. Something in security. She knew agents who’d tripled their salary in the private sector, and she was better than every single one of them. And that was the crux of it. Without the job, she didn’t have an identity because the job had been all about assuming someone else’s. Maybe this was all she was good at, but the only way to find out was to walk away, and she wasn’t ready to take that step. “What’s the job?”
“You’ve seen the Mancuso family mentioned in the daily briefs?”
Royal nodded. “I’m familiar with their operation, generally speaking.”
“We have a CI who’s made inroads with the family, but he’s gone about as far as he could go in the organization.”
“And you think I’d get further? Key word ‘he.’ Mancuso is not going to let a woman hang out with made men.”
“I guess you didn’t drill deep on the briefs. Mancuso’s only children are daughters, and the older one helps to run the family business.” Wharton reached into a folder on his desk and pulled out a photo and handed it her way. “That’s her. Dominique.”
Royal stared at the photo. Dominique was beautiful, and her sexy smile likely garnered lots of attention. “So, she’s in charge of his operations?” she asked.
“Kind of. Our intel says she runs the books. But his real right hand is his consigliere, Siobhan Collins. She may as well be one of his children since he practically raised her. If you haven’t been up against her in court, you’ve missed a bruising.”
“She’s a real lawyer, not just a counselor to the don?”
“Yes, and she’s ruthless, but our inside sources say she has a weakness.”
“Really, what’s that?”
“Tall, dark, and female. It’s her type and you fit the bill.”
Royal shook her head. “Nope. Get someone else.”
“You’re the best I’ve got.”
He was right. She was the best at her job because it was easier to pretend to be someone she wasn’t than face her own reality, but what he was asking now was different. He was asking her to take this job because of who she was, not who she could pretend to be, and the idea of it made her feel uncomfortably vulnerable. She started to say no, but he opened his desk drawer, pulled a photo out, and tossed it onto the desk. Her gut clenched and she reached for it.
“What?” he asked.
“This is her? Siobhan?”
“Yes. I thought seeing her might cause you to change your mind.”
Royal stared at the photo, as captivated by Siobhan on paper as she had been when she’d seen her earlier that afternoon. She noted that unlike Dominique, Siobhan hadn’t smiled for the photo. Instead, she wore an enigmatic expression, and Royal had a deep desire to know what she was thinking. She set the photo back on his desk and stabbed at it with her finger. “I have seen her. About thirty minutes ago. Someone tried to run her down in front of that store next to Neiman’s, down the street.” She told him about her encounter with Siobhan.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” he said. “What did you say to her? Does she know you’re a cop?”
Royal shook her head. “I didn’t say a word, and her bodyguard, some woman who looked like a WNBA center, showed up right away.”
Wharton pulled another photo from the file. “W
as this the bodyguard?”
“Yep. She looks way taller in person.”
“She should. Name’s Neal Walsh. Not WNBA, but she did play college ball. It’s a mystery how she wound up on the Mancuso payroll. Did they see you come in here?”
Royal replayed the scene with Siobhan in slow motion. The gunning of the SUV’s engine, the squeal of tires, her own voice shouting for Siobhan to get out of the street accompanied by the rapid pounding of her heart when she realized Siobhan was stuck on the grate and unable to get out of the way. Footfalls pounding the pavement—her own, followed by the thud as she crushed Siobhan against her and threw them both to the ground. After their initial exchange, Royal had slipped away, taking a shortcut through the Adolphus Hotel. At the time, she hadn’t been concerned about being watched, only about getting to the office so that she could get this meeting over with. “No. Neal hustled her out of there pretty quickly.”
He stared at the photos, his head slowly bobbing up and down in a gesture Royal recognized as deep thinking mode. “Maybe we can work this to our advantage,” he said. “Siobhan’s going to trust the person who saved her life, right?”
“I hope you have a better cover than that planned. If she’s the consigliere to Mancuso, she’s going to make sure anyone who gets close to him is legit.” For the first time since they’d started talking, Royal started to warm up to the idea of this op. She proceeded cautiously. “What is the cover?”
“Bar services and liquor vendor. They run their bootlegging and money laundering through their catering business, so the best way to get a firsthand look at the action is to be part of their supply chain. There are a bunch of businesses in town that feed into their catering business—florists, equipment rentals, liquor distributors and wholesalers—that they actually own on the sly. I figure you know everything you need to about alcohol and we’ve got an agent working TABC who’ll vouch for you as someone who’s connected and knows how to work the liquor laws. The manager for one of Mancuso’s main liquor vendors, Valentino’s, also provides bar services for parties, and they just got busted by TABC. One of their conditions for keeping their license is that they fire the guy, which causes them a problem since their biggest event of the year is scheduled for next week.”
“What’s this big event?”
“Mancuso’s younger daughter, Celia, is getting married. The wedding will be the perfect opportunity for you to get a lot of solid intel on Mancuso’s inner circle. The reception is at his estate, and everyone who’s connected to him will be there and you’ll have the run of the place. Saving Collins from getting run over in the street gives you even better odds of getting in under their radar.”
“You don’t know that she’ll even be involved in the planning for the wedding. Plus, why would they trust a stranger to be part of the wedding? If all the families are going to be there, it’s high risk for them to let anyone in who hasn’t been properly vetted.”
“True, but we’ve developed a solid cover. Our guy inside will introduce you as his cousin from Houston who’s ready to step in and save the day.”
“UC or CI?” she asked. If—big if—she took this gig, she preferred not to have to maneuver around another undercover officer.
“You’ll be the only undercover on the case, but the UC on a related case will make the introductions. This op is very important.”
“So important that you just now decided to add me to the team?”
He shrugged. “You know how it is. We’ve been close to nailing some of their people before, but this is the first time we’ve had a legit opportunity to get this close to the senior members of the family.”
“And you think sending in a bartender will do the trick?” Posing as a bartender was how she’d managed to make contacts within the Garza cartel.
“Not a bartender, a ‘manager.’” He used air quotes as if that would make it sound better. “And you underestimate how important bar services are to their operation. They run all their money through the catering business, and in order to keep up a show of legitimacy, they have to have a supplier that makes a show of abiding by state regulations while still being willing to help them launder funds. The CI helped us bust the current manager, and I have a feeling the family will see he never works again after he exposed them to potential shutdown. The setup is perfect. We’ve laid the foundation. You just need to win them over.”
“Just?” Royal mentally ticked through all the reasons this was a bad idea. There was no such thing as a perfect setup, and she was used to having a lot more lead time on a gig like this with plenty of preparation and thorough vetting. Walking in blind increased the likelihood of mistakes. Mistakes that could get her killed—not the way she wanted to end her career as an undercover agent. She should take her brush with death on the Garza case as a sign she’d used up the luck that had followed her throughout her career and move on.
But then an image of Siobhan Collins flashed in her mind, arousing her curiosity, among other things. Despite the broken shoe that caused her to pitch headlong into the street, she seemed confident and self-assured, and she was definitely gorgeous. How had she become the voice that whispered in the ear of the head of the most powerful crime family in Dallas? Was there an as yet unexposed vulnerability there? One she could exploit to expose the Mancuso family to prosecution?
The only way to find out was to accept this assignment. Was it worth it? Probably not, but when she opened her mouth, her response fell short of refusal. “If I do this, I have terms.”
“Name them, but do it fast. We’ve got a cover ready for you and the opportunity to infiltrate starts next week. You’ll need to spend time between now and then getting briefed on how their operation works. It’s not a lot of time, but I know you can do it.”
Royal ticked off her conditions. “I run the op. I don’t need a handler. You can assign someone to be my contact, but I’m in charge.” She pointed at her chest. “I’ll take advice, but not orders.”
“Look, Royal, I trust you completely, but this is too big a job for anyone to handle on their own.”
She stood. “Then get anyone else to do it. I’m going on vacation.”
She was a step away from the door when he called out, “Wait.”
“Yes?” she asked without turning around.
“Your op, your way.”
Words she’d waited to hear, but now that she had, was it enough to entice her to take on one last personality other than her own?
❖
Monday night, Siobhan walked past Neal and her lieutenant, Pete, and entered her penthouse apartment. She resented their constant presence but knew Carlo was right to add the protection in view of the close call she’d had on Friday. She changed into her favorite set of jade silk pajamas, poured a glass of red Zinfandel, and placed an order from the Thai restaurant down the street. She’d had back-to-back hearings in federal court and figured she deserved the indulgence. While she waited for the food to arrive, she reviewed the papers their contact in the police department had sent over about the SUV that had tried to run her down.
The car was registered to a local moving business who’d reported it stolen Friday morning. Neither she nor Neal had gotten a look at the driver, but she was fairly certain that even if she had, it wouldn’t be helpful since whoever had been sending the message had likely paid somebody else to do their dirty work. But why had she been the target? Was it simply by virtue of her position within the family or was the villain targeting her for a specific reason? She took a deep drink of the wine, savoring the peppery finish on her tongue. Whatever the reason for the attack, it had shaken her up more than she cared to admit. She was no stranger to the danger that came from being part of this family, but she had managed to stay several layers away from the reality of it. Dispensing advice, defending family interests in court—her law degree didn’t entirely insulate her from the risks, but the don did his best to shield her from the consequences of the family’s enterprises. A fact she’d underappreciated until Frid
ay, because if that woman hadn’t stepped in, she might be dead.
Multiple times today, Siobhan had cursed the fact she’d failed to get the woman’s name. Never mind that she’d been a bit in shock after having been thrown to the ground. She should’ve gotten the info to be able to send a thank you. Or perhaps even deliver one in person. The woman was a little masculine of center compared to her usual type, but she was striking, and those eyes… Siobhan hadn’t been able to stop thinking about losing herself in those indigo eyes, and for a moment she allowed herself to bask in the fantasy of walking into Celia’s wedding with the tall, gorgeous stranger on her arm.
She shook away the thought. She didn’t have time for those kind of indulgences. Not with enemies focused on the family. Security at the wedding needed to be tighter than usual, and though the family had plenty of people who could make that happen, if something went wrong, she would deem it a failure on her part. She opened her laptop and did a few quick searches to check out the company who owned the vehicle, but they didn’t appear to have any connections to Mancuso enemies, which meant their report of it having been stolen was likely true. She might not ever find out the name of the driver who’d tried to run her down last week, but all she had to do was wait. Whoever was out for her would try again.
A knock shook her from staring at the computer, and she walked to the door and looked through the viewer to see Neal, holding up two bags of food. She opened the door and held out her hand.
“Smells good,” Neal said as she held the bags out to her.
“I ordered enough for you and Pete,” she said, handing one back.
“We’re good, thanks.”
“I thought you liked Thai.”
She rubbed her stomach. “I do, but I had jalapeños on my burger at lunch. No sense adding on. Pete just ordered himself a pizza.”
“You should go get some dinner.”
She shook her head.
“Seriously, Neal. I’m in for the night. You’ve done your job. Besides, it spooks me to have you sitting out here.”