by Amy Reece
“From what I could find, Benito is the head of the family. There’s nothing rock solid, but it looks like the Fiores do indeed run a small time organized crime syndicate.”
“Of course they do. Imagine my surprise,” Chris said dryly. “Dante is currently playing the dutiful son, and I shouldn’t have had so much coffee this morning.”
Finn laughed and wished her luck—or diapers.
She cursed him good-naturedly and settled back to wait, trying not to think about the fullness of her bladder, nor how hungry she was starting to feel. Surveillance was one of her least favorite aspects of the job. It was certainly nothing like Hollywood painted it to be. It was boring in the extreme and often uncomfortable. Dante finally reappeared, and this time led her to a nearby Italian restaurant. She called Finn again to have him check the ownership, but she felt sure it was a family business and Dante was most likely doing double duty: lunch and informing the rest of the fam about Cosmo. Her stomach grumbled loudly and she realized she had most likely discovered all she could with this round of surveillance. The aroma of freshly baked bread from the sub shop two doors down beckoned; she ducked inside to relieve her over-full bladder and grab a quick sandwich.
She juggled her bag containing a turkey sub with chips and bottle of water in one hand while she opened the door and strode back to her car, stopping to stare in dismay at the sight that greeted her: all four tires on her Mustang were flat, obviously slashed while she was inside the sandwich shop. Somebody was sending a message. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered and reached for her phone.
Chapter Twelve
Hugh
He followed Bob up the walk to his brother and sister-in-law’s house, admiring the fall flowers they’d planted along the brick walkway and the pumpkins grouped on the front porch.
“Hugh! How wonderful! Hello, Bob.” Mel answered his knock and stood back to invite them inside. “I just put on some fresh coffee.”
Bob trotted in like he owned the place, exchanged butt sniffs with Fluff, was hissed at by CJ, then followed Fluff to the kitchen. Hugh trailed after them and accepted the coffee Mel set in front of him, reaching for the sugar.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah. Of course. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing. I haven’t talked to you much since you and Finn got back from the honeymoon.”
“Have you seen the pictures?”
He shook his head and quickly found himself flipping through a slideshow on her iPad, admiring the attractive newlyweds in various poses on the beach, in the rainforest, and at various tourist attractions. Finn had confided to him that Mel thought of herself as extremely average in the looks department, but Hugh completely disagreed. The young woman next to his brother in the photos was stunning, and the love shining from her eyes toward her new husband was unmistakable, as was the utter devotion in Finn’s own expression. They looked happy, carefree, and tan—at least Finn did. Mel looked happy, carefree, and slightly less pale than usual. The pictures made him think longingly of being with Chrissy on a sun-drenched beach somewhere, with no danger or dead bodies hanging over their heads. “These are great pictures, Mel. You and Finn look really…perfect together.”
She took the iPad back from him and closed the cover. “What’s up, Hugh? You seem kind of…I don’t know, wistful today. Is everything okay between you and Chris?”
He sighed and stirred his coffee. “She actually sent me to talk to you.”
“About?”
“About how you seem to handle being married to a cop so well. You’re doing okay so far with the whole ‘Finn being in constant danger’ thing.”
“Oh that.” She poured herself a fresh cup and sat opposite him at the table. “Are you and Chris already talking about marriage?”
“No, at least not directly. It’s definitely in my long-range plans, though, if I can convince her. But I’m freaking out about the danger she’s in, especially with this mob murder case.” He didn’t want to tell her about Uncle Teddy’s warning, so he hedged a bit.
“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re serious about her. You guys are great together.”
“Thanks. She’s amazing. So, how do you handle the stress of being married to a cop? Is it a problem with you and Finn?” He ran his hands through his hair. “I’m afraid it’s coming between us.”
“You don’t want her to quit, do you?” Mel looked appalled.
“No, of course not. But I don’t know if I can handle her being in danger all the time.”
Mel smiled and reached for his hand. “I know, Hugh. Believe me. I have moments I can’t even breathe when I stop and think about what Finn faces every day. But focusing on that and worrying endlessly about it gets me nowhere. It doesn’t keep Finn any safer and it just tears at our relationship.”
“That’s your great advice? Just stop worrying and don’t think about it?”
“Kind of sucks, huh? But Finn has almost been killed twice in the last year, and neither episode was in the line of duty. Besides, I love him. He’s a cop. I can’t expect him to step away from his calling just because I don’t like the thought of him facing criminals every day. I guess I could walk away, but that wouldn’t make either one of us happy.”
He stood to carry his mug to the sink. “Yeah, okay. I guess that’s pretty good advice. I sure hope I can follow it.”
“You’ll find a way if Chris is worth it.”
“Well, shit, Mel! Way to just put it out there on the line!” He leaned against the granite countertop he’d helped install and crossed his arms.
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, sure you are. Okay.” He pushed away from the counter. “Well, I’m not sure how I’m going to manage it, but Chrissy is totally worth it, so I’ll figure something out.”
“Good answer.” She stood and crossed to the coffee pot, then refilled his cup and set a plate of cookies on the table. “Now sit down and have some of these chocolate chip cookies I made yesterday.”
He sat and reached for a cookie. She might be quiet, but she had an air of authority he thought it best not to test. “These are great, Mel. Finn’s a lucky guy.”
“That’s for sure.” She ruffled his hair and grabbed a cookie for herself. “It’s going to be all right, Hugh. Finn and Chris are careful and they’re really good at what they do. We need to believe in them.”
“I believe in them. It’s all the shitty people they deal with every day I don’t believe in.”
***
Seamus was the first to arrive later that evening. Hugh had invited his brothers over to watch the 49ers beat the Cardinals, so long as they brought beer.
“The 49ers don’t stand a chance, bro!” Seamus pulled a bottle of Rolling Rock from the six-pack he carried and stuffed the remainder in Hugh’s fridge. “They switched quarterbacks last week and it was a disaster! You might as well just donate your part of the pool to me now.”
“You do know the Cards have three first-stringers out with injuries, right? I like my 49ers for tonight’s game.” Hugh reopened the refrigerator and selected a bottle of the local craft IPA he’d stocked earlier.
“It’s so sad that you continue to back a losing team.” Seamus rummaged through Hugh’s cabinets for a bowl in which to pour the chips he’d also brought.
Tony and Finn came in together a few minutes later, each carrying a six-pack and a grocery bag. The pizza Hugh had ordered arrived fifteen minutes later and they were soon settled in front of his 60-inch flat screen to watch the game.
“What are the girls doing tonight?” Hugh asked Finn. He knew his sisters and Chrissy were gathering at Finn and Mel’s place, but hadn’t heard what their plans were.
Finn shrugged. “I think Mel said they were watching chick flicks and drinking wine, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they end up watching the game. I overheard Izzy and Cara fighting over which team had the hottest guys.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke.
“Was Chrissy the
re yet?” Hugh asked.
“Not yet. She called to say it was taking longer at the tire shop than she expected.”
“Did she get a flat today?” Hugh set his beer down, concerned.
“Four of them.” Finn grimaced as he spoke. “Somebody slashed them while she was running surveillance this morning. Put her in a pisser of a mood.”
“What?” Hugh set his plate aside and leaned toward his brother. “What happened? Is she okay?”
“Calm down. She’s fine, of course. She can handle herself, you know. She was surveilling someone for a case and came out of a sandwich shop to find her tires slashed. No big deal. The department will cover the cost of new tires.” Finn stared at his brother like he had two heads.
“Was it in connection with the bodies found on my site?” His stomach tightened in dread as he asked.
“Yeah, but it’s just intimidation, Hugh. It’s posturing. This kind of stuff happens more often than you might think. “
All the progress he’d made toward accepting what Chrissy did for a living flew out the window, replaced by a bone-deep cold fear, along with a haze of red anger that Chrissy hadn’t told him. He bit off a curse and heaved himself off the couch, punching the button on his cell phone to call her as he walked.
“Hey, Hugh. How was your day?” She sounded guarded, as if she knew why he was calling.
“Where are you right now?” He growled the words out.
She sighed audibly. “Dammit, you talked to Finn. I should have told him not to tell you.”
“I thought we were going to be honest with each other, Chrissy. This isn’t my idea of honest.” His teeth were clenched so tightly he’d probably have a headache later. He was doing his best not to yell because he didn’t want his brothers to overhear.
She was silent for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I didn’t want you to worry. My tires were slashed, but we really have no way of knowing who did it. It could easily have been connected with any other case or just be a random thing.”
“Oh, come on! That’s bullshit and you know it! It was a direct threat by whoever put bullets in those six men we found buried at my job site!”
“No, Hugh, I don’t know that! I’m a detective and I deal in hard evidence, not conjecture!” She took a deep breath and continued. “Now, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the tires. That was shitty of me. But I can’t have you freaking out like this about routine stuff that happens while I’m on the job. Finn and I are on this case and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Go watch the game with your brothers. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Then she hung up.
Hugh stared at his cellphone in disbelief. She hung up on me! “Nothing anyone can do about it, huh? Well, fuck that.” He touched the button to open his contacts and scrolled through until he found the one he was looking for. He pressed the number and waited, tapping his foot impatiently. After five rings, someone finally answered. “Jason? Yeah, it’s Hugh. Listen, man. I need a favor.”
***
Chrissy
She tossed and turned all night, upset by the fight she and Hugh had had over the phone. She felt bad for hanging up on him, but he seriously needed to calm down about her job. To be honest, it had truly taken her by surprise when he’d freaked out about Teddy’s warning. He’d never had a problem—as far as she knew—with her or Finn’s job before, so why now? What had changed? She hadn’t wanted to tell him about her tires, knowing he would overreact. Keeping secrets was not her style, but she hadn’t wanted to deal with his worry. She knew she was falling in love with him, but she was beginning to question the feasibility of a long-term relationship with a man who couldn’t accept her career in law enforcement. But she missed him tonight—missed his lovemaking, missed his big body curled around hers, missed him falling asleep while she was still talking, missed him holding her throughout the night—simply missed him. They’d slept together four nights in a row and she wasn’t ready to stop, wasn’t ready to face the long, lonely nights that had been her life since the end of her last relationship. The plan had been for her to go to his house after the game and girls’ night, but then they’d fought, and she’d decided to stay home. And he hadn’t called or texted since she’d hung up on him. She checked her phone every few minutes and had even powered it down and turned it on again to make sure it was working. At three a.m. she flung the comforter off impatiently and padded barefoot to her minuscule kitchen. She filled her kettle and set it on the stove to heat while she rummaged through a cabinet for the box of herbal tea she remembered buying a few months ago. She finally found it, then reached into the next cabinet for her bottle of whiskey. She poured a small amount in the mug and sipped while she waited for the water to boil. “Aw, screw it,” she muttered and filled the mug, then turned the stove off. She took her mug of whiskey with her to the couch, pulled the quilt her grandmother had given her for high school graduation over her bare legs, and reached for the remote. She brooded and watched inane infomercials for an hour, finally falling into a restless sleep halfway through a tedious ad for Sauna Pants. She woke three hours later with a crick in her neck and a headache from the whiskey. She glanced at her bedside clock on her way to the shower and stubbed her toe on the nightstand when she saw the time. “Shit.” She was running late—again. Finn would undoubtedly rub it in.
Forty minutes later, she placed a venti Americano with an extra shot on Finn’s desk then slid into her own desk chair and switched on her computer.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he reached for the coffee.
“I’m fine. I want to go talk to Adrian Argyros today.” She focused on the computer screen, refusing to look at her partner.
“Because Hugh looked like crap after he called you last night, and you look like crap this morning,” he said, ignoring her attempt to keep it professional.
“Thanks, really,” she said with a grimace. “Can you hand me the Argyros file?”
“Did you guys break up?”
She shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She swung in her chair to face him. “And I would really appreciate if you wouldn’t report my every move to your brother.”
“Hey, I’m sorry about that, but I had no idea you hadn’t told him about your tires getting slashed. He’s freaking out about the cop thing, huh?”
She nodded briskly. Every cop was aware of the difficulty in maintaining a healthy relationship with a civilian—they simply didn’t handle the stress well. “I sent him to talk to Mel.”
Finn nodded. “Good call. She’s handling it pretty well. Listen, I’m sure he’ll come around. He’s crazy about you.”
She sniffed and turned back to her screen, determined to not let him see the tears shining in her eyes. She cleared her throat and blinked until her vision cleared. “Can we focus on the case, please?”
“Sure. Let’s go talk to Daddy Argyros.”
They drove to Adrian Argyros’ downtown office, Integrated Solutions, LLC. “What is it with these mobsters and all their nebulous-sounding businesses?” Chris asked as she punched the elevator button for the fifth floor.
“Right?” Finn said with a chuckle. “If they want to keep a low profile, they should go with something less obvious. It’s almost as bad as ice cream trucks.”
“Or Chinese buffets. Do you think there’s anyone who really believes those aren’t fronts for something sketchy?”
“And what about all those gold and silver exchange places? Here we go.” Finn waved her out of the elevator in front of him.
Integrated Solutions, LLC took up the entire fifth floor and Chris looked around the elegantly appointed waiting room, realizing immediately the Argyros family had to be much more successful than the Fiores. She didn’t think Adrian Argyros would be as easily handled as Dante Fiore. The receptionist was male, in his thirties, and looked competent and professional. Chris doubted Finn’s charm would have much effect, unless the man happened to be gay. She’d suggest switching their roles, but she sucked at anything r
esembling flirtation. It was amazing she’d ever managed to get together with Hugh.
“Good morning, Detectives,” the receptionist said. “How may I help you?”
They gave each other a side glance at the cool demeanor of the man. They both wore their badges on chains around their necks, but most people still had to ask. “We need to talk to Mr. Argyros,” Finn said.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, sorry.” Finn didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.
Have a seat.” The receptionist gestured to the plush sofas. “I’ll see if Mr. Argyros can fit you in.”
He kept them cooling their heels for nearly half an hour. The receptionist finally stood and led them to an office in the far corner of the enormous suite, ushering them inside. The man who rose to greet them was tall and imposing, with white hair and finely chiseled features. The smile he flashed them showcased straight, white teeth, but didn’t quite reach his dark eyes.
“Detectives, welcome. I’m Adrian Argyros. Please, have a seat. Would you like coffee? Water?” He came around his large desk and joined them in a spacious seating area.
“Nothing, thanks,” Chris said as she sat next to Finn on the dark blue velvet sofa.
Argyros waved the receptionist away. “Sorry to have kept you waiting. How can I help you this morning?”
“Mr. Argyros, your family’s name has come up in a recent investigation.” Finn jumped right in.
“Would you care to explain?” Argyros’ voice sounded tightly controlled.
“Six bodies were found a few weeks ago at a construction site on the West Mesa. All the men were shot, execution style, in 1982. One of the victims was an FBI agent who was undercover in your family’s crime organization.”
“My family’s what? I have no idea what you are referring to.” He sat back and crossed his legs, daring them to disagree.
Chris leaned forward, bracing her arms on her thighs. “Listen, Mr. Argyros. We are with the state police, not the FBI. We’re not interested in getting involved in their investigation. We just want to identify the other bodies and let their families find some closure.”