Otherwise Occupied (Evan Arden)

by Savage, Shay

  “She belonged to that pimp you killed, hmm?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Rinaldo leaned forward over the desk and pulled at his cuffs to straighten them.

  “You better tell me everything,” he said quietly.

  I didn’t like the tone of his voice, not in the slightest. It sounded way too much like the tone he used right before he exiled me to Arizona, and I did not want that happening again. The very thought of him being pissed off – disappointed in me – made my skin crawl.

  “There isn’t much to tell you, sir,” I informed him. “I’m one of her regular clients. I pick her up on the street; she comes to my apartment. I fuck her, and she leaves. That’s it.”

  “Until something happens and you kill her pimp.”

  “He crossed a line,” I replied steadily.

  “Beat her up, huh?”

  I nodded my head once.

  “Is this the same girl I hear you took out on the town?”

  Fuck.

  “Yes, sir,” I admitted.

  “Sounds like she’s more than just a hooker you fuck.”

  “No, sir,” I replied. “That is all she is.”

  He eyed me meaningfully for a moment, and I couldn’t help but see it for what it was – fatherly concern for me. I liked that he did that, even if it was annoying at the same time. I had the feeling it was the way fathers were supposed to behave, and it made me feel strangely warm inside. I’d seen him do the same thing with his daughter on occasion.

  And with Nick, for that matter.

  “We’ll see,” he finally said. “Regardless, there’s been talk that this girl is feeding information to one of Greco’s boys about heroin shipments coming in from up north and about the Russian connection who came up dead the other day. Information you are privy to hearing.”

  My eyes met his, and I knew immediately what he was thinking.

  “No,” I said definitively. “No, sir. I do not discuss business while I’m fucking whores. Absolutely not.”

  Our eyes remained locked together as he seemed to be deciding something – most likely my fate. His chest rose as he took in a sharp breath and then huffed it out through his nose.

  “All right, Arden,” he said.

  I hated that he was back to calling me by my last name. I glanced towards the door to make sure my face didn’t show how I felt about it.

  “You find out what’s going on here,” Rinaldo said, and he tapped his finger against the surface of his desk. “If what I’ve been told is correct…”

  His voice trailed off, and I leveled my gaze at him.

  “I will take care of it,” I said.

  I tried to keep my voice completely steady – completely normal. I didn’t though. The very last syllable dropped as my throat went dry. It was enough for him to notice.

  “Getting close to a girl,” Rinaldo said, “can be a good thing. If you were someone else – someone less complicated – the worst that can happen is you don’t work out. You’re a complicated man, Arden, and you are in a complicated position. Bitches make it even more complicated.”

  “I’m aware, sir.”

  “You’re aware,” he mocked. “Will that change anything when someone finds out you give a shit? What better to hold over your head than a warm cunt, huh? You take better care not to show your affection for her. You’ve done a shit job on that front with that pup of yours.”

  His dark eyes darkened further as we stared at each other.

  “You know Greco will use what he can to get at me,” Rinaldo reminded me. “You are a good way to get at me. One of the reasons that makes you ideally suited for your job is because you have no attachments that could be used against you to get to me. You were always careful not to show your affection for the dog in public. You aren’t as careful anymore.”

  “I’ll remember that,” I said to him, “but that still won’t happen.”

  At least my voice stayed steady this time because if I thought about it deep inside, I wouldn’t give Odin up. Not a fucking chance. I’d blow them all away first.

  “You like this girl,” he said.

  “She’s a whore,” I replied.

  “And my wife used to dance on a pole in one of my clubs,” he retorted. “Married twenty-five years now with Luisa in our lives. You think that doesn’t concern me sometimes?”

  “I know it does, sir.”

  He paused significantly, and I didn’t move.

  “Divided thoughts,” Rinaldo said softly. “That will never do for you.”

  I continued to look him squarely in the eye.

  “I only have one loyalty,” I informed him and then nodded my head towards him.

  He returned the nod but gave me a long, increasingly sad look.

  “No good can come of what you’re doing, son,” he said. “One of you will get hurt.”

  I looked up at my boss and shrugged one shoulder again. The word “son” flowed over my skin and warmed me as I answered him.

  “It won’t be me.”

  *****

  Finding Bridgett was supposed to be fairly straightforward because she was still supposed to be in my apartment where she was when I left. Like a typical woman, she wasn’t going to be that easy, even if she was a whore.

  Aside from Odin, the apartment was empty when I got back – no note or anything. She had been there for several days, and though she had gone out before, she usually told me first. I tried her cell, but she didn’t pick up. I took a deep breath, jumped in the Mazda, and cruised around looking for her but to no avail.

  When I returned, she was still gone.

  She wasn’t back the next day, either. I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter because there was a lot more I needed to figure out before I talked to her again. If there was even the slightest possibility that someone was framing her, I had to know who it was and quickly.

  Who even knew about her?

  I spent the next several days wandering around town, trying to catalog all the possibilities in my head. As sleep deprivation mounted, my thinking was a little less clear. The main problem was a lot of people knew about her. Just like Moretti had said, I wasn’t being as careful as I usually was.

  I blamed it on the lack of decent shuteye.

  I had taken her to all the best spots around the Magnificent Mile on a freaking date, and anyone could have seen us together. Those at the 676 Restaurant and Bar certainly knew about her, as well as the people at the restaurant where we had dinner, and the saleslady at Tiffany’s. Rinaldo knew I had been seeing someone prior to showing me the picture; he just didn’t have a name to put with the face.

  “Seeing someone?”

  I shook my head to clear it.

  Jonathan had picked her up and brought her to my apartment when I was sick. Just like it had been when Greco moved on Rinaldo, I had to consider him. Terry was always a suspect for anything, as far as I was concerned, because he was a douche.

  For the next several days, I continued to drive around trying to find her. She didn’t appear to have returned to her apartment. None of the other streetwalkers were admitting to seeing her, and she didn’t come back to my place. She seemed to have disappeared completely.

  I had to consider that it was all true, and the very thought sent me to the shooting range. The idea was so distasteful, I pushed it out of my tired mind, missed the bull’s-eye twice, and left in a pissier mood than when I had arrived.

  I just couldn’t keep myself occupied anymore.

  With no better direction, I continued to consider who knew of my relationship – however that was to be defined – with Bridgett.

  Pete, the security guy in the apartment lobby – he saw her come up here to the apartment all the time. He’d been having trouble a few months ago with his wife, but I never followed up on the details. Maybe he knew something. Maybe he did something.

  Why did I continue to assume she was being framed?

  Because that made the most sense. If someone had seen me with her, th
en they might think they could use her to get to me. What easier way would they have than to plant the idea in someone’s head that she’s divulging information to Greco?

  I also couldn’t fathom the alternative.

  Bridgett wouldn’t betray me; I was sure of that. She wanted to live with me and set up house, for Christ’s sakes. She wouldn’t tell other people about my business. I never told her about shit I was doing, so there wasn’t even anything for her to tell.

  I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. I was getting a headache from the lack of sleep. I hadn’t had two hours of sleep in a row for a week, maybe more. I was starting to lose track of time a little.

  I pulled out the phone logs Eddie Boy had dropped by – all paper copies instead of electronic. I couldn’t take a risk of the information being intercepted electronically. I was combing through Jonathan’s a bit more, and anytime I used my computer, he seemed to know about it. I didn’t find anything interesting or unusual at all, except that he’d been calling his dad a lot.

  Focusing was becoming more difficult, and I knew it was making it harder for me to figure out what the hell was going on with Bridgett and Greco, assuming there was a connection at all. That knowledge didn’t offer me any answers, though, nor did it help me sleep.

  Sleep.

  “You talk in your sleep.”

  “What the fuck? I do not.”

  “Not often, but you have – a couple of times.”

  “What if I said something when I was sleeping?”

  No.

  No way.

  “If I talked about Iraq, I could have said anything.”

  Odin snuffed at my shoe, and I realized I had been talking out loud. I reached down to rub the top of his head while my brain started forming a less-than-pleasant picture.

  My eyes moved across the rooms in the apartment until they came to rest on my laptop, which I hadn’t even had time to use for surfing since all of this started. I walked over to it carefully, like I was afraid of what might happen when I opened it. As the screen refreshed, the user ID and password screen popped up with the user ID already saved.

  I entered my password incorrectly.

  Incorrect password! You have reached the maximum attempts, and your account is now locked. Please contact your system administrator for assistance.

  There were supposed to be three attempts. Always three attempts with three warnings before the system would lock you out on the fourth try. Someone had already tried, received the message, and then stopped. Unless Odin had some opposable thumbs hidden in his shaggy fur, there was only one other person who had been in my apartment.

  “Motherfucker.”

  A few phone calls and a bus ride later, I was in front of Moretti.

  “You found something.”

  “Not exactly,” I admitted, “but there is a…a possibility.”

  He looked at me and waited for me to go on. I didn’t miss Mario slightly shift in his footing, placing his weight at an easier distribution if he needed to draw his gun. I didn’t think it was going to be necessary, but it depended on how Moretti took my news.

  Full disclosure.

  “It was more than fucking with that whore,” I told him bluntly. His expression didn’t show any surprise, but I also knew it wasn’t what he was thinking. “She also…well, sir, she slept with me.”

  Mario snickered, and I glared at him. He raised both eyebrows back at me.

  “Isn’t that the same thing?” he asked.

  “I mean, she’d stay at my apartment overnight,” I clarified. “She slept in my bed with me, lots of times.”

  Moretti leaned back and folded his arms over his chest.

  “What did you tell her?” Rinaldo asked coldly.

  “Nothing,” I swore. “Nothing intentionally.”

  Mario shifted again.

  “I just remembered something she said a while ago – something she said about me.”

  “And what might that be?”

  I took a deep breath.

  “She said I talked in my sleep.”

  Mario laughed out loud, and I considered just shooting the bastard, but that wasn’t going to help me out here.

  “I haven’t confirmed anything,” I told him, “but I admit there’s a…a possibility she heard something. I just need to know who told you she was squealing because that could help me figure all of this out.”

  Rinaldo nodded his head.

  “You aren’t going to like it,” he said.

  It was all I needed to hear.

  “Terry Kramer.”

  Rinaldo’s lips tuned up in a sardonic smile.

  “You believed him,” I said, trying not to sound accusatory.

  “He had good information,” Rinaldo corrected. “He knew things he shouldn’t know about.”

  “I’ve caught him following me.”

  “Then you do have some detective work ahead of you,” my boss agreed. “I want whoever passed sensitive information from my organization to Greco’s dead. As long as that is your end goal, whose head you bring me isn’t of consequence.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” I promised.

  Moretti leaned forward on the desk and gazed at me. I tried to be patient, but all I really wanted to do was figure out what the hell was going on and kill whoever was trying to turn the small amount of comfort I had found upside down.

  “You know what you need, Evan?” Rinaldo questioned.

  I shook my head.

  “A good woman, that’s what. A woman who is actually capable of getting through that thick head of yours.”

  I half smiled and blew a sharp breath out of my nose. I blinked away thoughts of the flowing dark hair of the woman in the cabin.

  “You got any suggestions, boss?”

  He looked me in the face, and his expression changed as his smile faltered. His face became a mask of worry as he motioned for me to sit in the chair opposite his desk and told Mario to wait outside.

  I sat down somewhat hesitantly. As soon as I sat, the heavy feeling of near unconsciousness shoved inside my brain and made me feel like I was going to fall over. I was pretty sure if I closed my eyes even for a second, I’d fall over onto the floor. The problem was I’d be awake ten minutes later – sweating and maybe even screaming.

  I had to get some sleep.

  “I’ll tell you something, Evan,” Rinaldo said as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together. “There is something I was considering.”

  “Considering, sir?”

  “My daughter, Luisa.”

  My muscles wanted to stiffen significantly, but I forced myself to remain still and calm. Something wasn’t right – he wasn’t smiling or anything like he might have been if he was going to suggest I date her, but he didn’t seem angry at all like he might have thought I touched her without permission. I couldn’t read him – not at all.

  I definitely needed some sleep. I was totally off my game.

  “Your daughter, sir?”

  “You know her.”

  It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded anyway.

  “You are only three years apart in age,” he remarked. “She is a beautiful girl.”

  Again, I nodded as I watched him closely, but he wasn’t giving me any signs to indicate where this conversation was going. My hands went clammy, and I could feel my heart pounding in my wrists.

  “I considered you for her,” he finally said. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk as his hands folded beneath his chin. “I considered you for a long time.”

  Considered – past tense. Considered only – not offering. I had done something wrong, but I had no idea what he was getting at. Was it because of my fuckup last year? I thought all had been forgiven at this point. Did finding Ashton’s body somehow cause concerns? Every indication in the news said the authorities were stumped.

  Because I killed the fucking pimp?

  It wasn’t that I wanted Luisa. She was beautiful and obviously from a very powe
rful family, and that came with a whole lot of perks I found interesting, no doubt. However, I didn’t want her any more than I wanted any other woman in my life.

  Well, except maybe one.

  I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just kept the eye contact and waited. I had to be pretty damn patient, too.

  “In many ways, you are the perfect choice,” he said quietly when he finally decided I had sweated it out enough. “I have no son – so this is all hers.”

  Rinaldo waved his hand around the room, but of course he didn’t mean the office or the building – he meant all of the businesses. I raised a brow but wasn’t stupid enough to ask about Nick at that point. Biology aside, he wasn’t going to let the illegitimate child that far inside. He was lenient enough with the guy as it was.

  “Luisa is a strong woman like her mother, and she could take care of it, but having a man such as yourself looking after her would be a substantial bonus. It would keep those who might believe her to be an easier target at bay. There are also some who might feel a woman is not to be taken seriously, and I would trust you to take care of anyone who insulted her.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He went quiet for a moment.

  “I trust you with my life, Evan,” he said. “My life – the life of my daughter, the running of any of my businesses – I would trust you to be loyal to this family as much as I would anyone who shared our blood. Yes, in many ways you would be the perfect choice for her.”

  His lips tightened, and his eyes narrowed. I felt my muscles tense a bit because I knew the answer was coming. His focus on me was acute and palpable.

  “You would never love her, though,” he said, “would you?”

  I blinked a couple of times.

  “What, sir?”

  “You would never love my daughter,” he said again. “Even this hooker you killed for, you don’t have any real feelings for her at all, do you?”

  “I…I don’t understand.”

  “If you had gone back to your apartment, found a letter from her saying she was moving out of the city, and you never saw her again, would you care?”

  I didn’t even know how to answer.

  “I didn’t think so,” Rinaldo said. “That’s why you will never touch my daughter. I hope you’ll always be there to protect her if I am unable to do so myself.”