Reckless (Bertoli Crime Family #2)

by Lauren Landish

  I laughed and reached over, pouring him a drink. "Here, this should help. I know I've had more than my fair share. Helps with the ankle, actually."

  Petey took my offered glass and sipped at it. "Thanks. It sucks about your ankle, but this is the life. So what did you want to meet with me about?"

  "I've got myself one hell of a home nurse, but there are things that I need that I can only trust someone more familiar with our operations to get," I said. "I need someone that I can trust to do the job well. Do you think you can do this for me?"

  I could see his eyes light up. He expected that if he got in good with me, that he'd have a better chance to become a full Bertoli family member. I felt a little bad about leading him on like that, but there was time to worry about it later. "What can I do for you, Tomasso?"

  "I intend to rehabilitate my ankle faster than what the doctors are telling me," I said. "I need a few . . . performance enhancers that I shouldn't have delivered here.”

  "What kind of performance enhancers?" Petey asked, looking over at Luisa, who'd just completed a neat flip turn before kicking off and starting her next lap. "That’s a pretty effective performance enhancer in itself."

  His mouth was the main reason he'd never get beyond the position in the Bertoli organization he currently held. If he'd made such a comment to Pietro or my father, he'd have earned a slap across the face at a minimum. Still, I needed to draw this out some more. “Maybe, but that isn't the performance help I need. I need a little more.”

  "’Roids?" Petey asked. "That's easy. I know a guy who sells them out of a CrossFit box—makes good money at it too. The Don wouldn't mind. He's pretty small potatoes overall."

  "I appreciate that, but I have someone who’s a specialist in things your normal gym goer doesn't use. He hooks up some of the Seahawks after surgery, stuff like that. I trust his supply, and I don't want to pay top dollar so that some mook can sell me salad oil instead of the real deal. Not saying your buddy is, but I don't know him, so I don't trust him."

  "I can understand that, Tomasso. So who’s this guy?"

  "Let me give you his number. You got your phone on you?" I asked. It was the point of the entire conversation, and one that had taken most of the day before setting up. I wouldn't be giving Petey an order for designer steroids—I’ve never used them, and never would. I didn't even know who the professional athletes in town got their designer steroids and test evasion kits from. Instead, the phone number I was giving him was for another Bertoli associate who thought I was giving Petey a loyalty test. If Petey did the job right, he'd be picking up vials of garlic extract pills and, ironically, salad oil.

  He took his phone out of his right pocket, which I was sad to see was an iPhone. Handing it over without a second thought, he watched as I input the number and handed it back. "Give this number a call after three in the afternoon," I said. "Get the pickup and bring it back tomorrow, okay?"

  "I can do that," Petey said. "And the money?"

  "He'll get that from me later. He wants to talk to you because he wants to set up the pickup securely. He never transports product and cash at the same time. Think you can handle it?"

  "I can," Petey said. I nodded and reached into my shirt pocket, taking out an envelope. "What's this?"

  "A little thank you. This isn't for my father. This is a personal favor, and I appreciate those who do favors for me," I said, handing over the cash. It was a paltry sum to me. I didn't need it, but it helped add that extra layer of authenticity to the whole charade. "See what you can do."

  He took the money, another act a true Bertoli man would never have done, and another sign he'd never progress past the point he was at now. If my father had asked Pietro or Julius or any of the trusted Bertoli men, they'd have refused it. "Thank you, Tomasso. I'll have your package by tomorrow night."

  Petey left, and Luisa finished up her laps. I watched her get out of the pool, her recently bought training one-piece still looking sexy on her body, squeezing out her long, golden hair. My father's generation had Bo Derek to describe the perfect ten. I'll match Bo with Luisa Mendosa any day of the week. "So how did it go? From your face, not well."

  "I'm going to have a hundred milligram bottle of salad oil and garlic extract tomorrow night," I said with a little laugh. "Want to make some spaghetti sauce with me?"

  She smiled and took the lounge seat nearby, stretching out to enjoy the summer sun. "I'd love to. You know, our birthday is coming up soon. Any plans?"

  "None so far. What about you?"

  "I was thinking about celebrating with someone that I like," she said simply. "Maybe some chocolate cake and a trip into the mountains. Does that sound like a good idea?"

  “Maybe," I said, laughing. "It depends if you can find someone who likes you to go with you."

  That earned me a wiggle of her cute tongue, and my mind couldn't help but flash an image of what that tongue could do to me if it wanted. I swallowed a gulp of my fruit juice and sat back, refocusing. "First, though, we have a big problem."

  "Either we are totally clueless," Luisa said, getting off the lounge and sitting next to me so we could talk softly, "or your friend is the man we’re looking for. Not a good thing either way."

  "No, it isn't," I agreed, sighing. "So what do I do?"

  "You must know if the men who will make up your organization are loyal or not," Luisa said softly.

  I sighed and rubbed at my temples. "The consequences are grave. I've never done what we're discussing here."

  Luisa nodded. "I know. Neither have I. But if you’re to become the man you want to become, you have to be willing to do it. A man, a real man, has to be willing to do it himself.”

  After almost everyone had gone to bed, I sat in my father's study, pondering. Jake had been the one to sell Luisa out. But why? What could cause one of my childhood friends to turn against our family?

  My laptop that I'd set up beeped, and I saw that I had a video call, one that I'd been looking forward to. Answering it, I was happy to see the blond hair and Teutonic features of my soon-to-be cousin, and really more brother-in-law, Daniel Neiman. "Dan, it's good to see you. How's Alaska?"

  "Absolutely beautiful. In fact, Ade wants us to come back up here on vacation some time. Strictly summer, of course. There's no way in hell she'd want up here after October."

  I laughed. "And how about you, oh genetic offshoot of the Vikings or wherever the hell it was your family came from?"

  He laughed and shot me the finger, a casualness that we'd developed since he’d become engaged to Adriana. We'd always been rivals, and in a lot of ways, friends, but now, we were finding a new and better position, that of equals and family. "Sit on it, Tomasso. So how's the ankle?"

  "Hurts like hell, but I've got some new techniques to help me deal with it," I said. "Luisa's been really helpful with it all."

  Daniel gave me a questioning look, and I shook my head. "Not going to happen, Daniel. Just . . . there's things that make it impossible."

  “Hey, it’s your business, man. Speaking of your business, you asked me the other day to look into Jake Marconi. I’ve gotta be honest with you, that's some heavy shit you're asking of me. Jake's not exactly some geek off the streets."

  "I know, but I trust that you can connect the dots enough to know why without my saying anything," I said. I was alone in the study, Luisa having gone to bed a bit earlier saying she was feeling a bit tired, and I was able to lock the door to the study and talk. "If I'm wrong, I'm going to need a lot of discretion on this."

  "We're family, and not just in the business sense," Daniel said reassuringly. "Besides, with what I've found, I think your instincts were right. Petey checked out fine. His major flaw is that he's greedy and dumb, but he's not all that trustworthy. He's also got a severe lack of social skills. On the other hand, he's also the sort of guy you can trust to look out for himself, and he knows not to screw around on the Bertolis."

  I nodded, confirming what I'd learned earlier in the night. Petey had alrea
dy called my contact and was supposedly picking up my 'supplements' that evening. "I notice you didn't mention Jake."

  Daniel nodded. "Remember, he and I were friends too. Not as close as you and he were, but close enough that I'd sometimes take him out on the town. Your father asked me to let him shadow me for a few nights, get the layout of Seattle again before getting socked into that job with the pizza company he's doing now. So what I found . . . it disturbs me."

  "Tell me the bad news," I groaned, sitting back. "Just spit it out."

  Daniel looked to the side, and I figured he was reading from another screen, or maybe a printout. "Jake did his basic training at Fort Benning, where afterward, he did Airborne school before being sent to Korea. He was an eleven bravo infantryman, and in November, he got his discharge."

  "I know all that," I said, "but you wouldn't have that look on your face if that was all there was to it."

  "You're right, but I wanted to cover the framework first. You mentioned in your last talk with me that the group that had claimed responsibility for the bombing was called Gaea Defense Force, and that the guy who'd tried to run Luisa Mendosa off the road was named Leonard Frakes, right?"

  I nodded. "Yeah. Does Jake have a connection to the GDF?"

  Daniel looked it over, and shrugged. "I can't prove it, but there's enough there that I would be very worried if our positions were reversed. Jake Marconi was assigned to the Second Infantry Division, which is headquartered at Camp Red Cloud, Korea. Both Leonard and Jake were known to frequent a group known as the 'Western Princesses,' a group of Korean hookers who tend to only work the servicemen. One of the most outspoken of the Princesses was a Korean woman named Sul Ham Kook, who left the hooker life to become active with the environmental movement. I wouldn’t be surprised if she'd introduced the two."

  I thought about it. "Jake falling for a hooker though? I just don't see that.”

  Daniel nodded. "I never would have thought you'd have come back from Alabama, except for family reunions and stuff, but you did. And I never, ever would have thought you’d the type to be taking the lead on what you're doing right now. No offense, Tomasso."

  "None taken, Daniel. You're right, of course. Is there anything else you can give me to help?"

  Daniel shook his head. "Not with the amount of time I've got. I'd need more time to get more information for you—to track down people who actually are at or were at Camp Red Cloud at the same time."

  I shook my head. "No, you've got your own work to deal with. How's work on the legitimate side of the world?"

  Daniel laughed and shrugged. "Even harder than I'd expected, but I'm doing okay. Looking forward to getting back and getting married. Tomasso, if you want the backup, I can help. You might need it."

  I shook my head. "No, I need to handle this ASAP. If the relationship between the Bertolis and Mendosas is to come to completion, I can't let this just hang in the breeze."

  Daniel nodded again. "Okay. Just a word of advice?"

  "Sure."

  "Jake's better trained than you are. He's a former soldier, and he knows how to handle himself. You're on a busted ankle, too. If you plan on taking him down, you’d better do it fast and quick, or else have help.”

  I sighed and nodded. "I know. But there's nobody I can turn to for help. I'm going to have to do this myself, and then talk with my father and Pietro about it later."

  Daniel sighed, then held up a finger. "Don't forget the girl. She's trained too, even though she doesn't look it."

  I could feel the twist to my lips as I pondered Daniel's words, then shrugged. "I'd prefer not to involve her, and not just because she's a woman. This is family business, Daniel. She's not a Bertoli."

  “Maybe, but remember that she's got reason to be involved with this as well. In any case, Adriana and I will see you soon. Take care of yourself, Tomasso."

  Chapter 14

  Luisa

  I woke up the next morning with an ache in my heart, one that I knew was because of not having Tomasso with me. My narrow twin bed was too small, and despite the warmth of the offered blankets and the fact that we were in high summer, I was cold on the inside as I got out of bed and dressed for the day.

  As I brushed my teeth, I looked at the reflection of the woman who stared back at me. In so many ways, she was identical to me. Her hair was golden blonde, her skin the light hint of natural tan, and she still had the dark eyes and little button nose.

  But I didn't know this woman. She looked happy, something that I didn't think I’d truly felt in years, even though the highlight of her day would be to help Tomasso in the gym, carrying plates to and from weight trees. She was dressed like an American, with a plain t-shirt and casual shorts on instead of a designer set of clothes. Her makeup was practically non-existent. There was little there that would compare to the composed, made up, tightly-controlled and fashionable woman who had stepped off the plane a few weeks before.

  But most of all, she looked happy. I spit into the sink, swirling my mouth out and looking back at myself, and wondered. Was I truly happy? Me, the woman who’d sworn to herself that I would never let a man be the one to be in charge of me. Was I truly happy wanting to be a servant to a man, an American man at that?

  "You don't want to be his servant, though," I whispered to myself, admitting the truth out loud, even if it was at a volume so low I could barely hear it. "You want to be his partner, his equal. You want him to serve you as much as you serve him. You want the impossible, and you want it from one person in particular."

  I nodded and saw a hint of sadness in my eyes. I knew what I wanted was impossible. I wanted what I could never have, especially once my father found out. Guillermo Mendosa wasn’t one to give up on his ideas lightly, that was for sure. He hated Americans, and the only reason he wanted the business connection with the Bertolis was because he wanted the money. I'd come up here with the same intentions. Make the connections, get the money, and get out. Our family was doing well, but it was a small player in a country that had much larger sharks. The Bertolis were to be an advantageous alliance, nothing more.

  And now here I was, wanting the impossible. I saw a tear fall from my eye, and I wiped it away, not letting the coldness that was still roiling in my stomach creep out. Instead, I practiced smiling in the mirror until I could convince myself that Tomasso wouldn't notice, and then I left my room, heading for his.

  He was awake when I got there, already dressed in basketball shorts and a tank top that highlighted his muscular arms and chest. I'd never really been into the thickset muscular look in a man before, but it worked for Tomasso. It certainly got my pulse beating. "Good morning."

  "Good morning, Luisa," he replied, adjusting the straps on his brace. I noticed the smell of my baby powder body spray in the air, and I smiled. It was one of the little things he did that showed me he did care about me, even if we never said it. He’d started to spray his brace ever since I made a comment that it stank. “How'd you sleep?"

  "I slept fine," I replied, looking him over. "How was your ankle pain?"

  "I woke up twice with twinges, but your techniques helped me go back to sleep quickly," he said, grabbing his crutches and getting to his feet. “Thanks again for that. Listen, after breakfast, would you take a bit of a walk with me?"

  "Are you insane?" I asked, surprised. "Sorry. Just, the idea of you crutching for miles is painful to my armpits."

  Tomasso chuckled and rubbed at his arms. "Yeah, those are getting a bit chafed. But I'm not talking going downtown or anything. Actually, that does sound nice. How about you and I get out of the house and you drive me over to Golden Gardens Park? It's on the ocean side—the water’s too cold to go swimming, but we can talk. Privately."

  I caught his intention and plastered on a reasonably authentic smile. "That sounds great. After breakfast and your workout, though. Today, we're doing the isometric work for your leg as well as working your good leg too. If we have the time, of course."

  "Of course we do," Tomas
so replied. "But let's try to get out there by noon. I want to enjoy the warmth of the sun, if we can, and the beach gets a wicked breeze off the ocean later in the afternoon."

  I took Tomasso to the dining room, where the chef had already laid out our breakfast for us. We sat down to lean cuts of steak, with eggs and even some pancakes. “Well, I guess I'm going to have to join you for your workout," I complained good-naturedly. "Is your chef trying to say something about me with the use of steak? I mean, since I did come here with that in mind and all."

  Tomasso shook his head and sliced into his filet. "I doubt it. He’s probably trying to pack me full of protein, and for you, well, he most likely read somewhere that your area of Brazil eats a lot of beef. Don't stab him, please?"

  I cut my steak and chewed, smiling. It may not have been Brazilian, but the chef knew what he was doing, and it was delicious. "For a chef this talented? I'd be mad to do that. Anyway, what is this Golden Gardens Park?"

  "It's a place on the Pacific Ocean side, one of the bigger parks in town. I'd forgotten about it because I usually used a private beach when I was younger, and the water there is cold. You've gotta wear a wetsuit if you want to go in, so it’s mostly kayakers, canoers, stuff like that in the water. But the view's nice on a day like this, and most of the time, the sun is warm. I should have taken you there already.”

  "That's all right. Should I take a hat or anything?"

  Tomasso nodded and took a forkful of eggs and speared a bite of steak with it. "Sure. But let's work up a sweat first, okay?"

  I smiled and gave him a lifted eyebrow. "Careful what you wish for. You may just get it."

  After a good workout in which we made sure his legs would not atrophy and that his strength loss in his legs would be minimized, I finished off with a few yoga poses for him just for the tease. We changed out of our sweat-soaked workout clothes, and I drove us out to Golden Gardens Park. The seaside area was picturesque, although far from what I'd expected when Tomasso said beach. I still had in my mind something more akin to Brazilian beaches, which for the most part are the sorts of places where someone can go with a towel, an umbrella, and some sunglasses to lay out and relax for a long time.