“You picked a hell of a time for mating, brother.” Luc propped a hip on the desk, crossing his arms.
Rafe watched him for a long moment. Belligerence vibrated in every coiled muscle. His youngest brother made clear his disapproval of Rafe’s chosen mate. “If you are unable to give her the loyalty you’ve shown me, say so now.”
The two brothers eyed each other silently while Gabe went to the carved liquor cabinet, which somehow had survived the earlier brawl. The snap and fizz of a cola sounded as he poured himself a Bourbon and Coke. Taking a sip, he joined Luc to lean against the desk.
“You care for her, we know,” Gabe said, “but do you trust her? Do you trust her to understand L.I.’s mission, to accept it? You ask for our loyalty, but will we have hers?”
Mackenzie spent most of Sunday at the station, where she buried herself in work. Other detectives gave her a wide berth and, no doubt, breathed a sigh of relief when she called it a night at one in the morning. Telling herself she had a job to do, she returned before sunup. It had nothing to do with avoiding memories of Rafe in her apartment. She’d block out everything else but the job. What other choice did she have?
By the time Cooper reported for duty, her anger, once an inferno, had burned down to a numbing simmer and left a charred ache in its wake.
“Hey, Mac. What’s cooking?”
She bared her teeth. “Not a damn thing. Get off my desk, Coop. There’s a chair. Park your butt in it.”
“Whoa. What the hell’s gotten into you?” He put some space between them and took the chair.
She squeezed her eyes shut a second. “Sorry. Someone ate my M&Ms,” she lied. “Have you run the name on the rental car?”
“No. It’s bogus, Mac. You and I both know it.”
“Run it anyway. See if there were any airline tickets in that name. Start with the week prior to the first murder. Origination, New York or New Jersey. Maybe Nevada? Get with airport security and check security tapes. If the name turns up, I want a picture of the guy.”
“Damn, Mac. That’ll take a while.”
“Then I suggest you get on it.” She locked her PC. “On second thought, hand it off, but get someone on it now. See if anyone matches this guy.” She handed him a copy of a college class photo. “He’ll be older now.”
“Who’s this?”
“Anton Sagristano, AKA, Tony, Antonio, Anthony. Word is he goes by numerous aliases, typically using names with initials A.S. or T.S.”
“Tony Soprano.”
“Bingo. He’s wanted for questioning in several states, including New York, New Jersey, and here.” She tossed him an article she pulled off the Internet the night before. “That’s a news report on a crime family busted for running a scam on the health-care industry.”
“Health-care industry? I thought their specialty was labor unions, casinos, and trash pickup.”
“The mafia’s branching out. What can I say?” She pointed at the article. “Their company overcharged group health-care providers and used private medical records to blackmail patients. Took authorities a couple years to make the bust.”
Cooper whistled. “With this many clients, I’d lay odds the extortion business was lucrative. Connections?”
“I’m still running possibles between the company and the victims.”
“What about Stone?”
She thought about lying but couldn’t. She’d jeopardized her career enough by covering for Stone, and what had it gotten her? “Not between Stone and the New Jersey crime family, but Sagristano? Yeah. He was engaged to Stone’s sister.”
Cooper sat back, inclined his head. “Another piece falls into place.”
“Not so fast. They never married. He worked for the Lykos Institute for a few years but left under less-than-desirable circumstances.”
“They had a falling out?”
“Big time. He’s wanted for questioning in connection with the disappearance of Stone’s sister.”
“Murder?”
“Nothing proven. No body. Legally, she’s still listed as a missing person.” Mackenzie recalled Rafe’s comment about the danger of disintegration if a Lycan changes without enough energy to overcome injury. If that was the case, it was unlikely they’d ever find a body. “Sagristano was about to be fired when he disappeared on the same day as the sister.”
“Girl runs off with boyfriend because big, bad brother disapproves.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But the boyfriend’s reappeared on radar. Not a blip on the sister.”
“Okay. I can’t see Stone tag-teaming with a guy he thinks killed his little sister, but I’m still not ruling him out. What about connections to Caprini?”
“Not ironclad, unless he’s the tail we picked up after leaving Caprini’s house. Sagristano’s name appeared in papers obtained in the raid on the health-care business.”
“How do you know that?”
“I spoke to one of the investigators on the New Jersey case last night. Sagristano’s from New York but went to college here. Biomedical studies.”
“Hey, isn’t that Stone’s brother’s specialty?”
Nodding, she held up a hand. “Which only explains why he worked at L.I. Before New Jersey authorities lost him, Sagristano was last spotted enjoying a toast with a guy fitting Caprini’s description in Atlantic City.”
Cooper got up. “I’ll tag Michaels to check flights for Caprini when she runs the other by the airlines.”
“Good idea. I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Maybe not, but damn, you’ve been busy. You trying to make me look bad, or does your personal life really suck that much?”
The ache in her chest throbbed. “I don’t have a personal life. What do you say I let you redeem yourself and we pay another visit to Caprini?”
“Works for me. Meet you at the car.”
“In thirty.” On the way to the garage, she took a detour by the lab, where she argued, threatened, and prodded the techs out of a promise to get the DNA results on the wolves to her no later than noon. Then she stopped by Taylor Phillips’ office and queried the profiler about possible connections between all three murders. Her gut had told her the three were related. Her instincts, however, had proven to be wrong before. All she had to do was look at how easily Rafe had fooled her to realize how flawed her gut could be. Surface clues indicated different killers, which Phillips supported.
Climbing into her car a half hour later, Mackenzie found Cooper already strapped in, his fingers drumming a rapid tattoo on the dash. After she cranked the engine, he tossed her a bag of candy, which made her laugh.
“Don’t eat ‘em until after we see Caprini though. You may need the tough-as-nails, cop-bitch attitude.”
“Great to be appreciated.”
The receptionist stuffed what looked like a compact in her purse and raised her nose in disdain as soon as Mackenzie and Cooper, with shields visible, crossed the threshold. “Officers, Mr. Caprini cannot be disturbed.”
“It’s detectives,” Cooper said, propping a forearm on the counter. “And who said anything about disturbing him? We’re here to ask him a few more questions is all.”
“He’s in a meeting. If you give me your name, I’ll—”
“We’ll wait.” Mackenzie strolled to a pair of matching chairs and sat.
“It could be hours.”
“That’s quite all right.” Mackenzie reclined, making certain her badge was clearly on display. “I’m sure he won’t mind a couple cops taking a little time out in the lobby.”
“Yep,” Cooper agreed. “We’re good for business.”
The receptionist sniffed and cast a nervous glance at her purse before stuffing it under the counter.
Acting on a hunch, Mackenzie tilted her head back and sniffed the air as she stood and approached the counter again. “Do you smell that, Coop?”
“Not your normal air freshener.”
The receptionist frowned and took a sniff, too. “What? I don’t smell anything.”
/>
“Not much of a challenge for our K-9s.” Cooper leaned over the counter.
The woman’s eyes widened. “K-9s? You’ve no cause to—”
“What do you think, Coop?” Mackenzie leaned against the high, glass-topped reception desk and casually examined her nails. “I lay twenty bucks on ten minutes, if we call in a suspicion of drug possession.”
“They’d be here before that. I’ll lay a Grant on five.”
The secretary scowled. “You can’t just come in here with no warrant.”
“A fifty on five. You’re on, Coop. Of course, we’ll have to lock the place down while the units are here.”
“How dare—”
Cooper pointed to a vent. “Smell could be coming from there. How many floors? Three? This could take all day.”
“And we still gotta talk to Caprini. Damn, there goes lunch. Tell ‘em to hurry.”
“Check.” Cooper began the call.
“Stop. Stop. One moment, please.” The woman all but ran to the double doors behind her.
Cooper hung up and nudged Mac’s arm. “What do you think? Purse or desk drawer?”
“Purse. Designer compact in the side pouch.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. Easy to hide. Easy access. Besides, that’s where she glanced first when you mentioned K-9s.”
Cooper shrugged. “Shame she didn’t give us a chance to bet on that.”
The secretary returned with the mute brute they’d encountered at Caprini’s house.
“Oh look, Mac. Bruno plays fetch.”
The man pulled back his jacket to reveal a handgun. His message was clear. “This way.”
“You gotta a permit for that?” Mackenzie asked as she neared to get a better look at the firearm.
“I’m legal.”
“Is that an HK?”
“Smith and Wesson, nine mil.”
“Nice piece,” Cooper said, his expression changing from admiration to dismay. “Why do the privates get all the good stuff?”
The bodyguard smirked.
Cooper continued to whine about budget cuts until they walked through the doors. They had indeed interrupted a meeting. Five men sat around a conference table with Caprini at the head; the chair to his right was vacant. Caprini’s guard didn’t take the seat but positioned himself in front of another door, already closed, located behind Caprini.
“Hey, Ernie. Nice of you to send Bert as escort.” It did her heart good to see the brute’s eyes narrow. He wasn’t as dimwitted as he first appeared. “Sorry for the interruption, folks. Need a word with your boss. Is that your office?” She pointed to the closed, guarded door. “We could talk in there. Only take a few minutes.”
“I don’t care for your insulting manner or threats against my employees, detectives.” Caprini remained seated.
“Threats? I don’t recall any threats. Did you threaten anyone, Coop?”
“Who me?” He shook his head.
“See? No threats. Just questions.”
“The last time we spoke, I said you could discuss any further inquiries with my attorneys. This is one of them. Stuart Fische of Pfister and Fische.” A smug grin across his round face, Caprini gestured to the beady-eyed suit on his left.
With his shiny, dark hair combed back from a large forehead and a narrow chin, the lawyer looked like a weasel in a three-piece suit. If his nose twitched once, Mackenzie would burst out laughing.
“This kind of highhandedness will not be tolerated against my client,” Fische said in a snooty nasal tone that fit his pinched expression.
Mackenzie gave him a feral grin. “I have a low tolerance for murder, and you haven’t even seen highhanded yet, Mr. Fishy.”
“The name is Feeeesh. What exactly are the charges?”
“None. Yet.”
Fische stood with an imperious scowl. “Then you are wasting my time and my client’s.”
“As I said, we have a few questions about a guy who claimed to work for your client being left to rot in his own bathtub with a bullet in him.” That earned her the undivided attention of everyone at the table, and narrowing eyes from Caprini. “If I didn’t know any better, Mr. Fische, I’d think your client has something to hide. So I don’t see this as a waste of my time. I come here with a few questions, and he tries to deflect my inquiry with an overpaid legal minnow. Makes a girl suspicious.”
While the attorney sputtered over the personal insult, Mackenzie leaned on her hands at the opposite end of the table from Caprini. “We can do this the hard way and I haul your ass in for questioning, or you can answer them here and now. The location and audience are up to you.”
Caprini glared at her but ordered the others at the table to leave. All but the attorney scrambled for the double doors. The armed bodyguard continued to hold up the back wall.
Mackenzie took the seat on Caprini’s right, directly opposite the legal weasel. Cooper sat beside her.
“For the record, I will report your conduct toward my client to your supervisor,” Fische said, adjusting his coat with a snap before taking his seat.
“So noted. Now, do you really want to waste more time with petty threats?”
“Get on with it,” Caprini ordered. “I’m a very busy man.”
She just bet he was. Mackenzie glanced at the paperwork spread out on the table. “Opening a new casino, Caprini?”
“That’s the plan, as soon as the license is awarded to us. It’s all legal. What of it?”
She didn’t answer. “Do you know Rafael Stone?”
His expression was again smug. “I’m a businessman in Chicago. Of course, I know Stone. Been on opposing sides of the bargaining table a few times.”
“Lose any bids to him?”
His shrug was stiff. “You win some. You lose some. That’s business.”
“Lose any employees lately?”
“I think you have me mixed up with Stone there.”
Mackenzie’s expression remained deadpanned as she let silence stretch between them to the point of discomfort.
“I was referring to a man who claimed to work for you. Remember Jimmy Harden?”
Caprini sighed in obvious disgust. “I’ve already answered that question.”
“Humor me. Answer it again.” She folded her arms on the table and watched him closely.
“Never heard of him.”
“Then how do you explain your unlisted number on a piece of paper in his apartment?”
“I don’t.”
His lawyer added, “He could’ve gotten it from any number of sources. That proves nothing.”
“Are you aware that within twenty-four hours of our last meeting, the man you claim to not know was killed in his home?”
“No.” Neither did he seem surprised by the news.
“Where were you that night?”
“At home, watching a movie.”
“What movie?”
Caprini grinned devilishly. “The Godfather.”
“Can anyone corroborate that?”
“My security guard.” He turned to look at the man guarding the door behind him. Like a well-trained pup, the bodyguard nodded.
“After that, I went to bed. Will that be all, detectives?”
“Not yet. Do you know a Tony Soprano?”
Caprini grinned. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Doesn’t everyone? He’s a television mobster.”
She kept a straight face and met his gaze head on. “Would someone using that name as an alias have any business at your home?”
“No. This is absurd.”
Cooper leaned forward. “What about Anton Sagristano?”
The grin faded before returning with a forced brightness. “Who? I don’t believe I’ve heard the name. Is he a character on the show, too?”
“He’s very real,” Mackenzie said. “When was the last time you traveled to Atlantic City?”
The smile was gone now. “I go there occasionall
y. On business. I don’t see how this has anything to do with your investigation.”
“The last time you were there?”
“I don’t recall exactly.”
“What about June?”
“My work takes me all over the country. Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t. What does this have to do with—”
“Did you meet Sagristano there?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about. What’s this have to do with some low-life thief getting whacked?”
“A thief?”
“The city’s streets are no doubt cleaner without him.”
“Pretty strong words considering you didn’t know the man.”
The attorney stood up. “This interrogation is over.”
“The seat was warm,” Mackenzie said on the way to her car.
“What?” Cooper asked.
“The chair I sat in. It was warm. Someone was sitting in it right before we were shown into the room.”
“Probably the guard.”
“I don’t think so. I think whoever it was went into the other room while Bernie retrieved us from the lobby.”
Cooper paused on his side of the car.
“Maybe so. You thinking it’s this Tony guy?”
“Possibly.”
“Want to hang out for a while, see what pours out?”
“You can. I’ve got an errand to run. Do you mind catching a cab back to the station?”
“No prob.”
She got in and rolled down the window. “When you get back, run a check on phone records for Caprini on the night of the Harden murder.”
“Sure thing,” he said, leaning in the window to tug on her ponytail. “What are you going to do? You late for a hair appointment?”
“If you’re thinking of turning in your badge to become a comedian, don’t. You’ll starve.”
“Yeah, and you’re a barrel of laughs. So where are you going?”
“Shopping.”
She was grinning at the shocked look on Cooper’s face as she drove away.
Chapter Seventeen
Mackenzie began with the pawnshop closest to Harden’s residence and hit the jackpot.
Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct Page 23