“He told me to memorize the address then burn the letter.” With a snort she added, “Like that didn’t make me nervous. Anyway, I did like he asked because I’m an idiot, too, I guess. He’s my brother. Was my brother. I guess you can’t get away from family that easily, no matter what.”
“Did anyone, including cops, ever come around asking about him after that?” Diego asked a split second before Ronan had a chance to.
Colleen’s gaze shifted around.
“It’s important that we know,” Ronan stressed in a gentle voice. She seemed spooked all of a sudden.
The woman blew out a breath. “Yeah, a couple of detectives did a few months after I got the letter, then again last year, although it wasn’t the same two as before. They, ah, kind of leaned on me.”
“Did they hurt you?” Diego asked in an even more gentle tone.
Collen rolled her eyes. “Nah, they just acted tough, tried to spook me about being charged with obstructing justice and other bullshit that don’t cut any ice in Southie. Seamus and me were raised to keep our mouths shut. The only reason I’m telling you is ’cause he’s already dead.”
The woman’s eyes misted up a bit, and she swiped impatiently at the tears forming. Even the biggest of rats usually left someone behind who mourned their passing at least a little. He could certainly empathize with her.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Do you remember the address?” She did and Ronan took down the information, thanked her, and left with Diego in tow.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Diego said, getting into the car. “From what I saw of his arrest record, the guy was neither bright, nor ambitious. A guy like that doesn’t score big. And if he had money, he wouldn’t be dressed like a homeless man.”
“Maybe he blew through the cash and was living recently on the streets.”
“His clothes would have been nicer if that were the case. It’s not adding up.”
“No,” Ronan agreed. “It’s not.”
The address the sister had given them was in West Roxbury, a south west part of Boston that had a more suburban feel to it. It was a far cry from the Boston neighborhood the O’Malleys grew up in, a definite step-up for a guy like Seamus. They arrived at a duplex that was modest and tired looking, as if no one cared enough to keep it up. As luck would have it, the landlord was home. The man gave their badges the once-over and wasn’t happy to hear they wanted to see where his tenant lived. He chomped on the disgusting remnants of a cigar while he let them in.
“Seamus O’Malley, huh? Told me his name was Steven Cabot, but I knew that was a crock. I know a mick when I see one.” Looking at Diego, he added, “I can say that ’cause I’m Irish myself.”
Ronan hid his irritation. They had bigger fish to fry, but Jesus, when would people get past these stupid slurs even of their own people? When Diego, who probably had been forced to develop a thick skin to epithets, gave the landlord a noncommittal look back, the man continued as he fished out his keys.
“I can’t say I’m surprised he’s dead,” he said, still not taking the stogy out of his mouth. “He looked like every punk I grew up with in Southie. They all ended up at Walpole or the cemetery before hitting thirty.” He pushed the door open and ushered them in.
“The state’s maximum security prison,” Ronan translated for Diego’s benefit.
The place hadn’t been cleaned in many months, but that appeared to be by design because there were pizza boxes and beer bottles lying around the living room, as if recently left there.
“The guy was a pig as you can see. But he paid his rent on time and in cash.” The man grinned around the cigar. “Of course I declared every cent to the IRS.”
“Of course.” Ronan stepped farther into the home and looked around. Diego headed back to the kitchen. “Did he have any visitors that you know of, a girlfriend maybe?”
“He wasn’t what you’d call a social kind of guy. I didn’t see anyone hanging around, and he didn’t date that I could tell. Unless you count working girls, that is. He had one or two of them over a month.”
“I see. Well, thank you, Mr. Ahearn, we’ll let ourselves out, and we’ll have some uniforms come and cordon this apartment off until we’re sure we’ve collected any evidence.”
“Fuck, knew you’d say that. I watch all the Law and Order shows. I know how this works. I’ll be lucky to rent it again by this fall.”
The landlord left with a shake of his head.
As Diego was already in the back of the apartment, Ronan tackled the living room. There wasn’t much to see, no personal mementos unless one counted the porn collection of DVDs. He rifled through the pile sitting on a built-in bookshelf, feeling dirty by merely touching the boxes. O’Malley’s taste had been extreme, although none of them appeared to involve underage actors. That was something. Most if not all of them weren’t properly closed which struck him as odd. If O’Malley was that sloppy, why bother to put the discs back in the case at all?
The thought occurred to him that the place may have been tossed. Messy as it was, it would be hard to tell. He stared around the room to see if there was any sign of greater chaos amid the mess.
“Callaghan, in here,” Diego shouted.
Ronan hustled to the source of the voice and found his partner on his hands and knees on the threshold to a small closet. Clothing, dirty laundry he’d bet, was scattered around his partner. Diego got more props for rooting around in another man’s soiled stuff. He was peering inside the closet with a small flashlight leading the way.
Ronan squatted beside him. “What am I looking at?”
Diego glanced up at him. “A hiding place.”
Stretching his neck, Ronan saw the hole in the flooring. Diego had pulled up a few shortened planks of the old wood floor. A small square hole had been carved into the subflooring. Something hard and black lay inside. “Is that a laptop?”
Reaching into the hole, Diego pulled the object out. “Netbook.”
“Same difference. Interesting how O’Malley hid it.”
“Very,” his partner agreed.
“There’s more.” Ronan wedge himself between the other man and the door jamb to stick his hand in the hole. Under the computer was a stack of one hundred dollar bills held together by a paper bank band. Holding it up to his forefinger to measure its thickness, Ronan said, “About ten grand, give or take.”
Diego whistled. “Nice chunk of change.”
“Yeah, but not enough to live on for long. I wonder if he has any more hidey holes.” Ronan scanned the room. It was as messy as the living room. “How’d you manage to find this one, anyway?”
“I’ve learned that people with a modicum of imagination hide things where they think others would be disgusted to look. I worked robbery for a while, and this woman stole a packet of diamonds and hid them in her box of tampons like I’d be too squicked out to look there.” He shook his head. “I thought it was weird how O’Malley’s dirty laundry was jammed in the closet. Seems like he’d just leave them on the floor where he took them off, given the state of the rest of the apartment. The place where the floorboard had been cut was easy to spot once I cleared the clothing away.”
Ronan stared at the size of the hole again. “Looks like he might have hid a lot of money at one time. Even given the space taken by the laptop, sorry, netbook, if he had hundred dollar bills, he could have easily fit tens of thousands in here.”
Diego shook his head. “I still don’t understand what he could have done or been in on that would have yielded that much of a pay-out. And with that much left hiding here, there’s no way he was out on the streets. Even if he’d run out completely, he would have hung around here until the landlord got him evicted. I bet that takes months here the same way it does in New York.”
When Ronan nodded, Diego continued. “Dirty and smelly as they are, these are decent clothes. He’d have been better dressed than he was when we found him.”
Ronan rubbed at his chin. “I got the feeling out in the living room
that this place has been tossed. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear someone opened up all of his porn DVDs.”
Diego gave him a thoughtful look. “Sounds like they were looking for something in an effort to tie up a loose end, covering their tracks.”
“God, the infamous ‘they.’ Who are they?”
Diego stood up and Ronan followed suit. “You said O’Malley was one of your father’s snitches? Is there anyone we could talk to that would have known him back then, O’Malley that is? Maybe your older brother?”
Ronan smiled at the thought. “Naw, Daire was a shiny new cop when our parents were killed. He wouldn’t have known anything about my father’s informants. Uncle Jack was already in a wheelchair by then, and he was a beat cop anyway. Never had a reason to deal with snitches.” He wracked his brain for anyone else, then smacked himself when the obvious came to him. “Of course, I’m an idiot. Uncle Connor.”
“Jesus, how many of you are there?”
Ronan treated Diego to a nasty grin. “Do you mean Irish or just Callaghans?”
Diego winced. “Never mind. Forget I asked. Who is Uncle Connor?”
“He was my father’s partner, so not really an uncle. Just a really good friend, except like a lot of my father’s really good friends, he made himself pretty scarce once the rumors started flying. None of them wanted to be tainted as bad cops.”
Because it infuriated him as it always did when he remembered how his father’s name, and his mother’s by association, had been dragged through the mud with whispered innuendos, he paced away with clenched fists. He hated showing his darker emotions to others, preferring people to see only the carefree part of him.
His new partner had other ideas. Instead of giving him space, he trailed after him. “Didn’t anyone stand up for him?”
“Uncle James. That would be Mr. Police Commissioner, sir, these days. He’s been around my brothers’ lives and mine all these years since the murders, although he’s discreet about it, if you ask me.”
“Jesus,” Diego gasped at Ronan’s name dropping. “You really are some kind of Boston police royalty.”
“Yeah,” Ronan agreed ruefully. “Except it’s like being from the part of the family descended from the executed traitor. Sometimes, I think the only people who still believe my father was a good cop are my brothers and our cousin, Regan, and her father, Jack.” With a shake of his head. “I guess you can add Finn’s boyfriend, Michael Caruso.”
Diego stepped in front of him. “You can add me to that list, too.”
Ronan was incredulous. “Seriously? You’ve known me for like a day. Why would you believe a fucking thing I say or even care?”
“I told you, I know what it’s like to have cops whispering about you when your back is turned and get the facts wrong because the truth is either too awful to face or not awful enough to interest them.”
That was the second time his partner had alluded to some trouble he’d had in what Ronan could only assume was his time as a New York cop. There was a story there, and damned if he didn’t want to hear what it was. But now was not the time. “Okay, I get that. And, thanks. Anyway, I’ll ask my Uncle Jack, who really is my uncle, if he can set up a meet with Connor. He’s still on the force, I think, although working some desk job.”
“Good.” Diego nodded. “In the meantime, let’s take this place apart. Who knows, maybe there’s another hiding place.”
Ronan grimaced. This wasn’t going to be fun. But he had his date with Cassidy later to look forward to, that is, if his partner didn’t somehow manage to beat him to the punch again.
Chapter Four
Slut. No, that wasn’t true. She wasn’t being fair to herself.
Cassidy stared back at her face in the restroom mirror at work. Her mother would think so, of course. Her mother, however, had also thought it was fine for Cassidy to have the longest engagement in the history of humanity. She had readily backed Thomas when he’d said he wanted to wait until they were done with their residencies in separate cities. Once they were back in Boston establishing their practices, they could throw the lavish affair that both families wanted, followed by a two week honeymoon in Europe. Then they’d come back and set up house in Weston or Wellesley or maybe Lincoln, one of the nice western suburbs so that they had the perfect home to bring their 2.5 children into when the time was right. So sensible and so utterly boring and unsatisfying.
No one seemed to think it important that the two of them spend time together, share intimate moments to strengthen their relationship. No one that is except Cassidy. At most, she’d seen her fiancé once a month depending on their hectic schedules, and the need for down time to get extra sleep always trumped their seeing each other. She had spent close to four years with mostly her vibrator for company, and as dedicated and diligent as her rabbit had been, it wasn’t the same as a flesh and blood man playing her body. It had finally occurred to her that, not only was self-gratification an unsatisfying way to spend early adulthood, it was also more satisfying than being with Thomas. The revelation had been her wake-up call.
Being with Diego last night had been the confirmation she’d made the right decision. God, her body still hummed with the excitement he’d stirred. She’d come so fast and hard with him and had been up and ready to go so quickly, that she understood she’d never really experienced sex the way she should have. The night had been eye-opening and knee-weakening. She’d all but floated through her day with the lingering effect of what, six orgasms, seven? She’d lost count. They’d made love three times before Diego limped out and she’d come at least twice each time. Wow, talking about making up for lost time.
Tonight she had a date with bachelor number two, and Ronan pushed her underused sexual buttons every much as his partner did. It was hard to believe she was going from practically a wallflower to a woman of infamy in twenty-four hours.
She was making some last minute adjustments to her make-up. Unlike her date with Diego, this one was planned, and she wanted to look her best. The only problem was that she felt a bit uncomfortable going out with someone else so quickly no matter how much she reminded herself that playing the field was perfectly legitimate. It wasn’t as if she’d pledged undying love or even exclusivity to Diego.
The tricky part was that he and Ronan were partners. She didn’t want to drive a wedge between them, however inadvertently. She had already decided she needed to come clean with Ronan before they started their date, in case he had a problem with it. Hiding it did no one any good. If he had a problem with it and wanted to cancel their date, she’d accept his decision with good grace.
With a last minute fuss with her hair, she left the women’s room and grabbed her stuff. Ronan had said he’d meet her in the lobby. She stepped into the elevator and ignored those angry butterflies threatening to take wing again. Slow even breaths calmed her down enough that she was able to put a relaxed smile on her lips as she stepped into the lobby.
She stopped for a half a second and caught her breath when she spotted him. He had the Irish rogue look down pat with his dark wavy hair and easy grin. He’d dressed up a bit for her, wearing khaki slacks and a button down shirt. He’d been checking his phone, but now he focused all of his attention on her as she approached. The expression on his face said he was not only glad to see her, but he really saw her and not some random woman. The intensity of his gaze unnerved her and reminded her of how Diego had looked at her the same way. Which led to her remembering she was about to say something that would wipe the smile from his face.
“Hi,” she said when they were only a few feet away.
“Hi, you look beautiful.” His grin morphed into a heated smile.
“Oh, thank you.” She flushed with the compliment. She’d dressed for the occasion, putting on a less than practical sleeveless sundress for the day with a drop waist and a hem cut on the bias for easy walking. She’d worn sneakers during work but now had on strappy gold sandals with a short spiky heel. Date clothes. She hoped he didn’t ri
de a bike, too.
“Shall we go?” He held out his hand, as if to usher her to his side. When she hesitated, his smile dimmed. “Is something wrong?”
Cassidy wet her lips and noticed how Ronan’s gaze followed the movement. “I need to tell you something before we leave. It might change your mind about tonight.”
“I doubt it, but please go ahead.”
“I went out with Diego last night. It was a spur of the moment thing, and…”
“I know. He told me this morning.”
“He did? What exactly did he tell you?”
“That he’d dropped by on the chance that you were free and asked you out to dinner.”
“Oh. Um, okay. Was that it?” Jesus, what was she asking him? Did she really want to know if Diego bragged about having sex with her? Besides, while she didn’t know him well, she couldn’t believe Diego was a fuck and tell kind of guy.
“That was it.” Ronan frowned slightly. “He didn’t give me details, and I didn’t ask for any. It’s none of my business what you two did last night.”
Well, that was awfully mature of him. It flew in the face of everything she thought she knew about men. “Then it doesn’t bother you?”
“The only thing that would bother me is if you’re only going out with me tonight because you’re too polite to cancel.”
“Oh! No,” she was quick to assure him. “I want to go out with you.” She felt her cheeks heat up and had to fight to keep from cupping them with her hands. She was so not good at this femme fatale stuff.
Ronan’s megawatt smile was back. “Great, let’s go.”
This time when he held out his hand, she stepped up to his side. Her body tingled when his palm lightly touched the small of her back, guiding her out of the building. He led her to a sedan that gleamed in the waning sun. Someone had been through the carwash recently. As he opened the door for her, she smiled her thanks and couldn’t help noticing that his pants were a little snugger than they had been.
Double The Risk Page 6