KYLE: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 4)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “She was trying to help, Mom. She was afraid Grant would figure out what I was up to—and he almost did!—and that he would do something to stop me, or he would give my name to his clients and let them deal with me. Instead, she stepped into the mess for me. And look what happened.”

  “Grant didn’t hurt her.”

  “Yeah? But he probably knows who did.”

  She shook her head again, but she didn’t argue. She knew I was right.

  “If not for Harley, we’d probably all be in jail right now. Or a graveyard.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “It is. She got her friend, Philip involved. His father is a United States Senator, and he put her in touch with the right federal agents, the people who know what’s going on and could help protect us. They put eyes on all of us and made sure Grant’s clients wouldn’t move against us until we could get the information I’d gotten out of Grant’s office into the right hands. And we were close. I gave her the papers I took from your office, and she managed to get those to the right people. But they wanted more, some dates, things I could pull off his computer with the spyware I put on it.”

  “That was you?”

  There was wonder in her voice, as though she hadn’t accused me of doing it just a few months ago.

  “We had everything. Harley was going to speak to this reporter, show him all we had. He was supposed to be an undercover agent of some sort, someone new. It made me nervous because we’d worked with the same agent every time before. But Philip insisted everything was on the up and up. So I reluctantly agreed. And then Harley…”

  “That was the day of her accident?”

  “Yeah. It seemed like an accident. People get hit there more often than I like to think about. So I just thought it was a coincidence. But now it’s pretty obvious there was something else going on.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t someone you’ve been working with?”

  “I don’t. That’s why I’ve distanced us from all of this since the accident. But last night, that reporter—”

  “You don’t think he was someone working with the government?”

  “How much does Grant know? What’s he been telling his clients?”

  My mom’s eyes narrowed. “You think that reporter is one of them, fishing for what you know.”

  “And I think he was involved in her accident.”

  My mom started to say something, but the doorbell chose that moment to scream from the front of the house.

  Grant was here.

  I let him in. I expected him to look confused, but he only looked tired. When he saw my mom, he went to her and drew her into his arms. It was the most affection I think I’ve ever seen pass between them in the entire thirty-plus years I’d known him.

  “I got a call from a friend. The feds are going to raid the office first thing in the morning.”

  “Who told you that?” I demanded.

  Grant glanced at me, almost as though I were fly buzzing around his head.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes. I need to know how much you know about this situation.”

  Grant simply continued to hold my mom. Harley let herself in silently through the back door, stowing the throwaway cellphone in her back pocket. Her eyebrows rose slightly at me, as though she was asking what I thought of the scene unfolding in front of me. I wasn’t sure I had the right to an opinion anymore.

  I grabbed her hand as she moved closer and tugged her out into the foyer.

  “He says someone told him the feds are going to raid his office tomorrow.”

  “That’s what Philip was just telling me.”

  “Did you tell Philip about the reporter last night? Or that we’re not meeting with him today?”

  Harley looked away and that made me nervous. She was a stubborn woman, and her stubbornness often meant that she wasn’t going to do what I wanted. And that scared the crap out of me since the last time she went against my opinion, she ended up in the hospital.

  “Harley…?”

  “I think we should go and sound this guy out.”

  “But if he’s—”

  “We don’t know for sure which side he’s on. And if he’s on ours, the information we have could help your mom.”

  “But it they’re going to raid Grant’s office tomorrow, they’ll have most of that information.”

  “Most, but not all. You do remember that some of it had been scrubbed of his computer. If you weren’t so brilliant with all this technology stuff…”

  “Flattery isn’t going to help your argument.”

  “Sure it will.” She reached up and kissed me gently. “I think we should talk to Grant, then go see what this guy has to say.”

  “And if he tries to hurt you?”

  “You’ll be there. And Philip’s friends are still around.”

  I pulled her close to me, the idea of seeing her in another hospital bed made me wish we could go upstairs, lock the bedroom door, and never venture forth again. But I knew this had to happen. And I knew it had to go the way she wanted it to because it was the only thing that made sense. We would never know whom we could trust, so we had to trust ourselves.

  And each other.

  I pressed her up against the wall and kissed her, letting my lips linger before I slowly began to explore places that should have been so familiar, but weren’t. I don’t think they would ever become too familiar and that was what told me this was the woman I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. If anything happened to her because of all of this…someone would pay.

  Chapter 32

  Harley

  I wanted to stay there for…well, forever. I didn’t want him to let me go. I didn’t want his kiss to stop lingering against my lips. I wanted to feel his heart pounding under his shirt and the heat of his skin, the heat that proved just how alive he was, to forever warm me up. He was my reason for getting out of bed in the morning and for facing life with a smile and a little skip in my step.

  “I love you,” he whispered against my lips.

  “I love you, too.”

  He ran his finger along the angle of my jaw. “I kind of like your hair like this. I can see every inch of your face all the time.”

  I groaned. “You would.”

  “Don’t you like it?”

  I laughed. “I should go to the hospital for all my haircuts.”

  He chuckled before pressing his lips to my forehead.

  “You look like a pixie. Or a little fairy.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  I ran my hand up his chest again before letting it slide down, hooking my fingers under the waist of his slacks.

  “If you like it, I would go bald. Wear a potato sack. Dance like Miley Cyrus and sing like Flavor Flav.”

  He laughed again. “Okay, that’s going a little too far.”

  “Yeah? Don’t you think that big clock around his neck is sexy? Maybe I could get a replica of Big Ben to wear.”

  He groaned as he kissed me again. “And now I remember why I love you.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “Promise me you won’t ever forget.”

  Once again, his lips lingered against mine, his kiss filled with so much emotion that it stole my breath, my confidence, and my determination to end this thing today. He was scared. So was I. I could handle my fear, but I wasn’t sure I could handle his.

  “Hey, let’s do this thing,” Grant called from the sitting room.

  Xander groaned one more time, then he took my hand and led the way inside.

  Grant was sitting on the couch, leaning forward so that only part of him was sitting. The rest of him was resting on the balls of his feet, as if he was prepared to run out of the room the minute he felt cornered. Bonnie was beside him, the same fear that lived in Xander’s eyes dancing all over her face. The woman was likely not a good poker player. Her every emotion was always written in the lines on her face. And, ri
ght now, she was not a happy woman.

  Xander and I sat on the couch facing them, our hand locked together. We were still wearing our wedding rings, an oversight that I should have remedied hours ago. But it didn’t seem that important any more.

  “Here’s the thing,” Grant said, launching right in as if he was giving his summation in a trial. “I didn’t know that these fellows had connections with the wrong people. No one even knew who this ISIS group was a year ago. Two years ago, I did all the things I was supposed to do. They checked out. So, the fact that I cut a few corners this year shouldn’t have mattered. How was I supposed to know this thing would get so out of hand?”

  Bonnie patted his shoulder as if she was consoling a small child. I could feel the tension race through Xander. He’d never disliked Grant. He simply never trusted him. He had good instincts.

  “When the feds came to my office, I met with my clients. I told them I was taking heat because of them and I’d decided to drop them as clients. It was a hard decision because they paid quite well. But then they informed me that if I dropped them, they would make sure that certain people got photos of Margaret when she was seventeen and she was involved in an accident out in Santa Monica.”

  Xander stiffened again, sitting up straighter as he eyed Grant. “Bullshit!”

  “They claimed—”

  “No one has any proof of it. You said you made sure.”

  “I did. But I can’t control the victim. And he’s still alive and well. I had him checked out when they made the threat.”

  “You think he…?”

  “What are you talking about?” Bonnie asked. “That’s not what you told me.”

  Grant touched Bonnie’s shoulder, as Xander jumped to his feet. I watched him, watched the way he moved, the way he ran his hands over his head, as if he wanted to pull his hair out one strand at a time. I didn’t know what they were talking about either. But I could see it wasn’t good.

  Xander turned and stared at Grant. “Does Margaret know they threatened her?”

  Grant’s eyes narrowed. “Margaret knows as little about this whole situation as possible. I don’t want her getting mixed up in it.”

  Xander’s eyes fell on me for a second then he gestured to Grant.

  “Go on. They threatened Margaret, and you decided to keep working for them.”

  “They threatened Margaret, and I felt like I had no choice.”

  “What about Mom. Didn’t you realize that you would eventually go down for this? And that you would drag my mom down with you?”

  “Of course I knew that. But I had to make a choice.” Grant stared at Xander for a long minute. “You don’t have children now. But when you do, you’ll understand.”

  Xander shook his head even as his mother slid her hand back into Grant’s, showing him that she would have stood by Grant no matter what his choice had been.

  “Did you know the reporter last night?”

  Grant didn’t answer right away. His eyes moved to me almost reluctantly. That was enough answer for me, but Xander wanted concrete. He wanted no doubt.

  “He works for them.”

  Xander turned to me. The look on his face was almost comical. Despite the gravity of the situation, he so wanted to say I-told-you-so.

  “What were you doing for these people?” I asked, trying to ignore Xander.

  Grant looked at me, but I think he was waiting for Xander to explode again. He was quiet for a long moment, then he slowly began to speak.

  “They told me they were interested in developing real estate all over the country. They were beginning in California, but they planned to eventually move to the Midwest, and then further east. They said they wanted to buy old buildings, renovate them, and resell them. I’ve done that sort of work for dozens of clients, so I didn’t think much of it. You’d be surprised how many foreign companies work here in the states, doing things like that.

  “So we bought up a few buildings in various cities. But then they wanted to play with the money, make it look like they’d spent more than they actually did. Again, this is something I’ve done with clients before. I moved the money around, made it look like some of it came other sources…”

  “You laundered it,” Xander said, his voice incredulous.

  Grant shrugged. “You can call it that.”

  “You were laundering money for terrorists. And helping them buy buildings in strategic places in three of the biggest cities in California.”

  “I didn’t know they were terrorists.”

  “Now you do.”

  “And now I’m going to pay for what I’ve done.”

  Xander shook his head, turning away again, as he once more moved with agitation around the room.

  “We have dates of meetings, deeds, and paper trails,” I said. “Things the feds need to arrest you.”

  Grant studied my face for a long minute. “Okay.”

  “I was supposed to hand them over to a federal agent posing as a journalist two months ago. But now we know that man is actually working for your clients.”

  Grant’s eyes widened slightly. “They knew I was being investigated.”

  “Well, they also know that Xander was cooperating with federal agents.”

  Grant glanced at Xander. “You?”

  “Yeah. Are you surprised?”

  Grant stared at him for a long minute, then he just shook his head. “Not really.”

  “They approached me. They threatened Mom. They threatened my freedom, my life with Harley. I couldn’t just pretend I didn’t know what was happening.”

  “If you’d come to me—”

  “They would have put us all in jail right there and then.”

  “They had no information.”

  “No,” Xander said, as he again dragged his fingers through his hair. “They had plenty of information on you. But what they wanted was the men you were working for. They wanted it all.”

  Grant sat back on the couch. He pulled Bonnie’s hand up to his lips and kissed her gently.

  “Then we’ll give them what they want.”

  Chapter 33

  Xander

  I wanted her to stay at the house, but she refused. She clung to my hand as we walked into the restaurant, so tight that my bones were rubbing together. She was scared.

  So was I.

  I spotted him at a table closest to the kitchen, a busy area that was a little concerning. I wasn’t sure how we could talk freely with all the traffic that was going past there, but, then again, it seemed logical. Everyone was so busy going about their own business that they wouldn’t even remember that much about us, let alone overhear much of our conversation.

  I don’t think I would be good at this terrorist stuff. I was too honest.

  The man—Colin Francis—stood as we approached the table.

  “Harley,” he said with genuine affection in his voice. “How are you?”

  Harley smiled politely. “Good, thank you.”

  “And Xander.” He studied my face for a minute, then offered his hand with a polite smile. I shook it because I didn’t know what else to do.

  He gestured for us to take a seat. Harley snatched my hand under the table once we were all seated, clutching it quite tightly once again. I squeezed back.

  “So, I spoke to Philip this morning,” Colin said. “He told me all about your accident. I was sad to hear about it.”

  “It was unfortunate,” Harley agreed. “But I’m doing much better, and my doctor expects I’ll enjoy a full recovery.”

  “That’s good.” Colin looked from her to me. “Nothing like an accident to bring a couple back together.”

  Harley glanced at me. “Well, if you spoke to Philip, then you know that the whole separation was just our way of trying to protect ourselves from Xander’s family learning what we were up to.”

  He inclined his head slightly. “It was a good plan.”

  A waiter chose then to come and ask us for our drink orders. Colin sat back and studied the two
of us as the waiter did his spiel, trying to sell us on something from the bar. I would have loved a good, stiff drink. But if I ever needed a clear head, it was now.

  It was all incredibly insane. Grant came up with a plan and…hell, it couldn’t be much worse than relying on a high school history teacher to put us in touch with the right people in the government. But Grant wasn’t the one sitting here now.

  I just wanted all this over with.

  “We need to know a few things,” I said the moment the waiter turned his back. “We can’t just hand this stuff over without knowing what you’re going to do with it.”

  Colin raised impressive eyebrows. “I don’t blame you, Xander. I’m sure you’re quite concerned about your mother.”

  “Yes. And Harley and Margaret and everyone else involved in this thing.”

  “I notice you didn’t say Grant.”

  I shrugged, my eyes falling to the top of the table. “Grant got himself caught up in this mess. We’re just trying to clean it up.”

  Amusement danced in the man’s eyes. It sent a shiver of fear down my spine.

  “And you, Harley. Is that your opinion, too?”

  “It is.”

  Colin sat back and played with a fork that was part of his table setting. “Well,” he said slowly, a hint of an accent suddenly coming out in his words, “I suppose you already know that the feds are going to execute a warrant on Grant’s offices tomorrow. If they find what they expect to, which includes hard copies of some of the things you’ve already provided the agents,” he said, gesturing to me with his chin, “he and several of his associates, including your mother, will be arrested and charged with many things, not the least of which is laundering money and aiding terrorists.”

  “We already knew that,” Harley said. “What we want to know is why you need this additional information if you already have enough to arrest them?”

  “Because you can never have enough information.”

  “Most of what we have will be on the computers you’ll confiscate at his office.”

  “Yes, well, he’s been tipped off, so we fully expect some of this information to disappear.”

  Harley and I exchanged glances. That was what we’d expected him to say.