by Jamie Hill
Brady uttered a low growl and slammed the receiver back onto the phone. "You ready to go, Costa? I need to get out of here."
"Yes." He stood and shoved a sheath of papers together. "Where to first?"
"I think we should call on poor Victor. Tony led us to believe the old man didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. Gina says he has lunch with the mayor and plays golf with the bishop, or something like that."
"Sounds like he's in better shape than Tony let on."
"Yeah, another lie from Tony. Imagine that!" Brady bristled just thinking about it. He touched base with the Lieutenant and brought him up to speed on their plans before walking out to Costa's Explorer and climbing in.
Joey entered Victor's address into his navigation system and headed out of the parking lot.
Twenty-five minutes later, they pulled into the driveway of the big house. It was older, well-kept, and looked huge for an old man to rattle around in all by himself. "Big place," Costa remarked as they parked.
"Kinda showy, don't you think?" Brady got out of the car and glanced around.
Costa shrugged.
An older man wearing a large, floppy sunhat walked around the corner of the yard carrying a watering can. At his heel was a middle-aged woman with mousy brown hair and a tan dress that identified her as a nurse or housekeeper type. The man's eyes narrowed when he spotted them, but only for an instant. He planted a smile on his face and nodded. "Good day, gentlemen."
"Mr. Moretti, I presume?" Brady stepped forward.
"I'm Victor Moretti."
"Detective Brady Marshall with the W.P.D. Special Investigations Unit. This is my partner, Detective Joe Costa."
"A pleasure. What can I do for you?"
"We came out here checking on your health, basically. Your CEO, Tony Moreno, told us you were in poor health and couldn't be relied on for information."
The old man's eyes showed a flicker of irritation and Brady wondered if Moretti knew that's what his son had been saying about him.
Before he had a chance to refute, Costa piped up. "Don't you mean his son Tony Moreno? Tony's not only fibbing about his father's health, he's lying about their relationship. As if he's trying to deny all ties."
"Oh, yeah, his son." Brady checked his notebook as if just remembering the connection. "Yet your daughter maintains your health is fine."
"Lunches with the pope and plays golf with the mayor." Costa nodded enthusiastically.
"I think that was the bishop," Brady corrected Costa, and then faced Moretti. "Gina Morris is your daughter, isn't she?"
Moretti told the woman accompanying him, "Fran, why don't you take those flowers we picked into the house. I'll be in shortly."
"Yes, Mr. Moretti." She took the watering can from his hands and returned to the back of the house.
Moretti made a show of checking out the left hands of both officers. He settled his gaze on Brady and said, "No ring. So you'd be the tontolone who's been seeing my Gina?"
"If tontolone means 'idiot who didn't know she was such a liar' then yeah, that'd be me."
"I'd be careful who I called names when I was standing on another man's property, Officer Marshall. She's my little girl and I'll do anything to protect her."
"Good to know, and it's Detective Marshall. Funny thing, Mr. Moretti, you're the third person who's told me to 'be careful' when dealing with your family in the past twenty-four hours. One of those people was your little girl."
"I never said she wasn't smart. Hopefully, smart enough to see though a tontolone —bonehead —like you and end things before they get too serious."
Brady smiled. "Oh, yeah. She was smart enough to do that. So we're letting you know, Mr. Moretti, that East Asian Imports is now under our microscope. The way we figure it, with so many key people lying to us, the company must have something big to hide. Starting today, we're turning the place inside out to find out exactly what that 'something' is. We've got the appropriate court documents, of course."
Moretti waved his hands. "East Asian Imports welcomes the scrutiny, my friend. You'll find our books in order and all our ducks in a row."
"Glad to hear it. Should make our investigation much easier." Brady pushed a button on his police radio and another car appeared behind theirs in the driveway.
"It really should." Costa nodded agreement. "Hope Watts and Brier appreciate what you're doing for them."
Moretti watched two men exit the car and then frowned at Costa. "What the devil are you talking about?"
Brady withdrew a search warrant from the breast pocket of his jacket. "Here's our warrant, Mr. Moretti. Detectives Watts and Brier are going to search your house now. I trust you'll show them the same consideration you've shown my partner and myself."
Moretti focused his scowl on Brady. "You have no idea what you're in for, Marshall."
Eyes narrowed, Brady faced him down. "Is that a threat, Mr. Moretti? I can't imagine the bishop approves of that kind of behavior."
The older man's eyes flashed at him. "Vaffanculo!"
"Ooh, that was nasty!" Costa made wide eyes at Brady. "He just suggested you go fuck yourself."
Brady chuckled. "I'll have to remember that one." He tipped his finger away from his forehead in a short salute and made eye contact with Moretti. The patriarch of the clan was a lot stronger than his frail appearance let on. Brady wondered if the old coot had anything wrong with him at all.
He turned and walked back to the Explorer, Costa on his heels. They got in, and as Joey drove off, Brady phoned Mel Curtis. "You and Stone have a green light to hit the EAI offices. We've spoken with Victor Moretti. Make a big show of flashing your warrant, and leave no folder unturned. We want these people fuming by the time we're done."
"You got it," she said. "You and Costa going to meet us here?"
"After we make one more stop. We'll be there in about an hour."
"See you then." She disconnected the call.
"They set?" Costa glanced at him.
"Ready to rock and roll. You put Moreno's address into that thing?" He pointed to the nav system.
"Yep. We'll be there in ten minutes. Another very nice neighborhood."
"Let's see how fast word gets around. You think Mrs. Moreno will know we're coming?"
"Um, yeah, I think so. People in houses and offices all over Wichita are shredding documents as we speak."
Brady chuckled. "Fuckers. Nice neighborhood, huh? Probably another big-assed house."
Costa shrugged. "Might be."
Brady shook his head. "Even if I had the dough, I wouldn't want to live in a mansion. What the hell is it for? I mean, I have a bedroom, an office, a weight room, a place to fix my chow and another room with a sofa and TV to plop down and eat. What more could I ask for?"
With a big grin, Costa gazed at him sideways as he drove. "Sounds like bachelor heaven. See, you add a couple kids in the mix and you need two more bedrooms. There goes your office and your weight room. By the time the wife decides she needs more space, you're shopping for a bigger place."
"I guess." The breakup with Gina was too new. It hurt to think about a 'wife' and 'kids' because he'd only recently started doing so. He shifted his focus to Costa. "So, does your wife think she needs a bigger place?"
His partner smiled. "Nah, she and I are on the same wavelength about money. When I got promoted to detective, we needed a new car, so we splurged on this. But for the most part, the rest is going into the bank. She knows as well as I do that in this economy, neither of our jobs are sure things forever."
"Smart woman." Gina doesn't seem like a spendthrift, either. From what he could tell, she was pretty frugal with her money.
As if he were reading Brady's mind, Costa said, "You know, Gina could probably have had a cushy job with her old man if she'd wanted it. You've gotta admire the girl for stepping out on her own like she did."
"I suppose," he replied, thinking exactly the same thing. He shook his head to clear it and examined the big house that came into view as Costa pulle
d in to Moreno's driveway.
Costa whistled.
"No kidding." Brady hadn't expected to find a bigger house than Moretti's but this place rivaled it. "Apple doesn't fall far from the tree in this case."
Costa parked in the long circle drive and they approached the front door of the white-pillared mansion.
Expecting a maid to answer the door, Brady was surprised when a nicely dressed, petite Italian woman appeared. Her thick, shoulder-length black hair made her appear younger than she probably was. "Teresa Moreno?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes." Her eyes belied the calm, outward appearance.
Brady saw fear in them, or at least a heavy dose of apprehension. He felt bad for one moment, then pushed through it and did what they were there to do. "I'm Detective Marshall of the W.P.D. This is my partner, Detective Costa."
"Is this about the security guard who was killed in the warehouse district? My husband talked to the police—"
"Not exactly, ma'am," Brady told her. "Although, I think Damon Jones' death was a by-product of the case we're working on. Someone is shipping drugs and stolen goods through several of the import/export companies in town. Whoever is doing it seems to have inside knowledge of how the companies work, which smells fishy. We keep hearing that no one would run such a gambit through his own company, which is possibly true, but nothing quite adds up. The deeper we dig, the worse the smell becomes."
"East Asian Imports is a perfectly legitimate business, Detective. I'm sure once you've looked through the books you'll see our company has nothing to hide."
Brady waved a hand. "Oh, I know. Honest as the day is long. I'm sure the books will prove you out. I'm just not sure where the real set of books are." He pulled another warrant from his pocket. "We're going to nose around here for a bit before we join our friends at the warehouse office."
She eyed the piece of paper as if it were a snake that might bite her. "I need to phone my husband."
"Go right ahead. If he can tell you where the good stuff is, it might save us some time and mess, here."
"Saputo," she muttered, and turned to walk back into the house.
Brady followed, Costa at his heel.
"She called you a smart ass," Costa translated as they walked.
"That one I know. I've heard it a few times recently."
"I'll bet you have," Teresa muttered, pausing in a large office to pick up a phone and dial.
Brady looked around, eyeing a wall-sized bookshelf, filled to capacity. "We're going to need some help over here," he told Costa. "See if Forrest can spare another unit so we can get this place done quicker.
"Will do." He stepped into the hallway to make his call.
A small child with dark brown eyes peered over a chair in the corner of the room at Brady.
He waved his fingers, keeping one ear on the Moreno's conversation.
The little head poked higher and Brady spotted a mass of curls surrounding the child's face. He was instantly reminded of Gina and realized the child must be Tess, her four-year-old niece. Before he could wrap his mind around the idea, the mother ended her call.
"My husband says, 'buona fortuna'. Good luck with your search." She spotted the child and commanded, "Tess! To your room!"
Tess scampered from the office as fast as her little legs could carry her.
Another flash of guilt struck Brady. I didn't want to scare the kid. He glanced at her mother. "Tess is a cute little girl."
Teresa's eyes sparked. "Leave my daughter out of this, Detective. Do what you have to do—take the house apart if you think it's necessary, but leave my children alone."
"Of course, we will," Brady said gently. "We have no need to talk to your kids."
His words seemed to calm her, and she nodded before waving a hand around the room. "This is my husband's office. I'll leave you to your work. If you need me, I'll be upstairs." Teresa followed her daughter out.
"Thanks," Brady replied, and eyed the full room. We have a lot of work ahead of us.
Costa came back into the room. "Baker and Pelling are on their way to help out."
"Great." Brady sat behind the desk and opened the first drawer.
* * * *
The work went faster than expected because there wasn't much to be found. Brady searched the desk and file cabinet but left the bookshelves to the other men as he wandered through the house, nosing here and there. Upstairs, he found Teresa reading to her two children and he stood in the doorway listening for a moment.
When she noticed him, Teresa stopped reading and frowned. "Yes?"
"Didn't mean to interrupt." He studied the boy, dark-haired and cute as hell, like his sister.
Unlike Tess, who'd shown innocent curiosity, Max stared at Brady with unfriendly, accusing eyes.
What a world to grow up in. Brady had never feared the police, but then again, he'd never seen them come to his home and dig through files. Max and Tess were part of a family where that was a commonplace occurrence. He remembered Gina saying she didn't like cops before they'd ever dated. She'd been part of that world, too. Still is.
Brady shook his head to clear the thoughts of her. Breaking it off had been the right decision. Seeing Moreno's family confirmed it. "My partner and I are leaving now. We've got two men finishing up in the office. They'll let you know when they're done."
Teresa nodded but gave him no further acknowledgement. She returned to her book, lifted it, and continued reading.
Brady watched for another moment and when Tess caught his eye, he winked.
The girl smiled at him for a brief second, then nestled closer to her mother and returned her gaze to the book.
He found Costa, they checked in with Pelling and Baker, then headed out the front door.
"That was big waste of time," Costa muttered as he climbed into the driver's seat.
"Eh, maybe not. We didn't expect this to be easy. Let's get over to the EAI offices and see if Curtis and Stone came up with anything."
"Sure thing." Costa headed to Riverside. "Traffic's picking up."
Brady hadn't noticed. He glanced around and saw lots of cars, but it was a highly-traveled road most times of the day and night. One vehicle caught his eye, and he focused on the blue Chevy coming up fast behind them. "Son-of-a-bitch. I know that guy."
Costa checked his rearview mirror. "Who, the bald guy that seems to be in a big hurry behind us?"
Brady looked over his shoulder at the car which was approaching too fast. "Yeah. Hang on, Costa, this doesn't look good."
The Chevy grazed the bumper of the Explorer then backed off.
"Mother fucker!" Costa gripped the steering wheel. "Get off my ass!"
Brady snapped his seatbelt loose and pulled his gun from its holster. "I don't think that's his plan. He's got a gun aimed right at us. Here he comes again." He leveled his arms into firing position.
"You're not going to shoot out my windows!" Costa yelled.
"What, I should just sit here and let him shove us into the river?" Brady hollered back, glancing down the passenger side of the vehicle to the rushing water below.
"He's not going to do that," Costa mumbled, then braced as the car rammed the back of the Explorer harder. "Shit!"
"Hang on!" Brady aimed his weapon but couldn't get a clear shot.
The car swerved away for a moment, then reappeared in the back on Costa's side. Brady saw the bald man's face as he rammed the front fender of his car against the side of the Explorer.
"Damn it!" Costa growled, trying to control his vehicle.
"Straighten it out!" Brady called to the less experienced driver, but it was too late. The Explorer flipped. The world went mad as the big vehicle spun upside down and left the road, headed for the river.
Chapter Seven
Brady opened his eyes and winced. His head hurt like hell and the rest of him didn't feel so hot, either. He peered around the sterile, white room and realized he was in a hospital.
"Hey, there he is." A tall, blond nurse in light blu
e scrubs stood next to his bed, checking something on a monitor. "About time you woke up."
"Where am I?" he mumbled. His mouth felt dry.
"You're at Wesley, in the Trauma Center. You were brought in several hours ago."
"Trauma Center?" He tried to remember what had happened, but it was a fuzzy blur. Something to do with Gina.
"There's a woman waiting out in the lobby to see you. We couldn't let her in because she's not technically family. But if you'd like—"
"Sure." He reached up to wipe his eyes. The other hand didn't seem to want to move.
The nurse stepped out and Brady focused on the door. Gina?
Melanie Curtis walked in and took the chair next to his bed. "Hey, Marshall! Glad you're finally awake. Half the department is downstairs waiting to hear about you two. They let me come up, but didn't want fifty people milling around the small waiting room up here."
Fifty people? He tried to think but his head ached. "Mel—what happened? Why are there fifty people here? Was there some kind of mass casualty?"
She reached out and took his hand. "You and Costa were in an accident, Brady. Some dumbass changing the CD in his car accidently ran you off into the river. The water wasn't deep, but you were submerged. You managed to get out but Joey's seatbelt stuck. He was trapped."
Flashes of memory came back as Brady remembered what Mel described. The water had been fucking freezing and he'd really wanted to climb out, curl up and sleep. But he spotted the two kid's car seats in the back and knew he had to get Costa out.
Mel went on. "Even with a broken arm, you kept diving back down there after him. The paramedics had to pull you away from the crash."
The expression on his partner's face, under water, with bubbles escaping his lips, was something Brady would never forget. "Costa. How is he?"
Her dark eyes clouded. "They're not sure. He was under there for a long time. He's in a coma right now. They don't know…if he comes out of it…"
"If?" Brady groaned and tried to lean forward. "Of course he'll come out of it. He's a tough little son-of-a-bitch."
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "He might have brain damage, Brady. The doctors don't know if he's going to be all right or not."