An Offer You Can't Refuse: A Miami Mafia Crime Thriller

by Sal Bianchi

  “Good afternoon,” the girl behind the counter smiled. “Welcome to eat. How many are in your party today?”

  I was a little taken aback by what she’s just said, but I ignored it and carried on with my investigation.

  “Just one,” I smiled back. “Oh, but could I get a table by the window?”

  “Of course, sir,” the young woman smiled before beckoning me to follow her. She seated me just two tables away from the man I was tailing, just close enough to make out their conversation.

  “Someone will be with you to take your order shortly,” the hostess said with a nod before returning to her post.

  I pretended to gaze at something out the window and leaned back in my chair to get closer to the couple.

  “When are you going to do something about it?” the woman asked. “I’ve been patient for long enough.”

  “It’s not that simple,” the man sighed.

  It was certainly a suspicious conversation, but it wasn’t enough to determine whether or not he was having an affair. Just in case, I decided to use my phone to make a recording in case he did say something irrefutably damning. I fished it out of my pocket and turned on the recording app. One of my friends had given me a device that I could attach to my phone to make it record better. Supposedly, it isolated outside noise and increased the range of audio that was able to be recorded. It was incredibly useful for recording conversations without getting too close. I’d have to find a way to thank her for it sometime.

  The conversation went on for a while, but neither said anything that couldn’t be explained as some sort of misunderstanding. I sighed sadly as I reflected on what my life had become. This really wasn’t what I’d envisioned when I’d decided to become a private investigator. I’d imagined myself stopping crime and making the world a safer place, but I mostly just spent my time following cheaters around and having to break the news to brokenhearted people.

  Sometimes I wondered if it would be better to just get a legitimate government job like Jase. Just as that thought occurred to me, my phone went off in my hand. I was so startled by the sudden ringing that I nearly dropped it.

  My eyes widened with surprise when I saw who was calling me.

  “Hello?” I answered as I answered the call and raised the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, Nick,” Director Markus Flint replied. “Are you free this afternoon?”

  I hesitated before answering. I was actually in the middle of an investigation right now, but if the director of the SDCT Miami branch was calling me, it was most likely because he had a case he wanted me to consult on. Whatever it was, it was almost certainly bound to be more exciting than following this guy around for the rest of the day.

  “Yeah, I am,” I answered.

  “Good,” he replied simply. “There’s a new case we could use some help on. How soon can you be here?”

  “I’m nearby right now,” I responded, already grinning with excitement over the prospect of a new case.

  “Good,” he replied again. “See you soon.”

  That was all he said before hanging up. Flint had always been a man of very few words, even when I was a kid, but I knew he was a good guy deep down. I stowed my phone back into my pocket and pondered over what I should do. I couldn’t abandon the case, but I was really curious as to what the SDCT case was about.

  A moment later, though, my decision was made for me when I heard a loud scrape behind me as a chair was pushed roughly against the floor.

  “You know what?” the woman snarled. “I don’t have time for this. I need to get back to work.”

  She stormed out of the restaurant, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she went. I could hear the man sigh behind me before flagging down a server and asking for the check.

  Now that the woman was gone, there wasn’t much I could do here since I knew he would just be heading back to work, so I gathered up my things and left as well. This meant that I would now have to work overtime to get this case solved within the allotted time frame that I’d given the client, but I didn’t feel dismayed. On the contrary, I was practically grinning with excitement at the prospect of getting to work on a real criminal case with the SDCT.

  6

  Nick

  I knew exactly where the SDCT office was and how to get there. This wasn’t my first time consulting with them on a case, and even before then, I’d often met up with Jase here before heading out to go drinking. It was funny to look back now and think about how close I’d been to running into Officer Flint so many times. Though, I suppose it wasn’t officer anymore, since he was now the director of the SDCT.

  The SDCT, or Special Domestic Crimes Taskforce, was a specialized agency that devoted itself to investigating crimes that posed a potential threat to public safety. Like Homeland Security on a smaller scale, they typically handled things like potential terrorist threats, trafficking, and, of course, organized crime. Their office was located in a business park, not unlike the one I currently worked and lived in, though this one was noticeably fancier. It was made up of tall, towering office buildings as opposed to the small single-level suites that made up the industrial park my office was in.

  I pulled my car into the first open spot I found and got out. There were so many people employed by the various businesses and companies that used this industrial park that it was sometimes difficult to find good parking. I found it was easier to just leave my car somewhere near the entrance and just walk.

  The building the SDCT office was located in was tall and intimidating. I remembered I’d felt extremely out of place the first time I’d visited. Even the ground floor lobby was tastefully decorated and looked like one of the swanky lobbies I might find in the expensive beachfront hotels owned by my family. SDCT’s office was on the seventh floor. The elevator opened to a narrow hallway that stretched both left and right. All along the hallway were doors that led into the main office area, but each required a passcode to get through.

  Flint had given it to me the first time I’d come, much to the consternation of many of the agents. I knew a lot of them had a problem with me working so closely with them and having access to sensitive information. They knew I was ex mafia, and many of them were of the opinion that I couldn’t be trusted. Flint, in his typical fashion, had just shrugged his shoulders and told them that he wasn’t concerned.

  I punched the code in and stepped inside. The main bullpen in the center of the office where all the field agents worked was bustling. I hadn’t been here often enough to know everyone’s names, but I was doing my best to become acquainted with everyone. Around the perimeter of the office were the smaller office rooms belonging to the director, the assistant director, the intelligence analyst, and the communications liaison. Of those, I only knew the director, Flint, and the intelligence analyst, Agent Marshall Stein.

  Of course, there was also the lab on the other end of the office, but I’d never been there at all and actually had no idea who worked there.

  I’d only taken a few steps toward Flint’s office when a familiar and unfriendly voice halted me in my tracks.

  “You can’t be serious,” Agent Bette Owens scoffed derisively at me. “Flint really called you?”

  I turned to look at her. Bette was one of the agents that didn’t think I should be allowed to work with SDCT. Out of all of them, she was probably the most outspoken about it, too.

  “He did.” I smiled at her. “I’m excited for the opportunity to work with SDCT again.”

  “Oh, shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “That ‘prince charming’ act isn’t going to work on me, DiFiore. I don’t know what the hell the director’s thinking.”

  “You look pretty when you glare like that,” I replied. It was a terrible line, even for me, but I was really just trying to get a rise out of her now. It was immature, but being nice obviously wasn’t going to change her mind either way.

  “Are you serious?” she snarled, her lip twitching with contempt. I’d said it just to annoy her, but Bet
te really was very pretty. Even when she was angry, there was a fire in her eyes that was actually really attractive.

  “Hey, what’s going on here?” Jase asked cheerfully as he tactfully positioned himself between us.

  “Great, you’re here,” Bette huffed as she took a step back and turned to look at Jase. “Maybe you’ll have better luck reining in this idiot.”

  She shot me one last glare before sauntering off. I chuckled as I watched her go. She was fun to tease, but honestly, I wished I could figure out how to get along with her.

  “What did you do now?” Jase sighed as he turned to look at me.

  “Nothing,” I protested. “She came up to me all aggressive. I didn’t do anything to provoke her. I even told her she looked pretty.”

  “See, there’s your problem right there,” Jase retorted. “You shouldn’t have done that. She’s super weird about people complimenting her, and she already didn’t like you, so it was probably doubly as annoying that it was you who complimented her.”

  “That’s... weird,” I muttered. “Most women I know love being told they look pretty, especially ones as good-looking as her.”

  “Eh,” Jase shrugged nonchalantly, “I don’t know. She’s just kind of a mean person, to be honest. She’s cold to everyone.”

  “Is that so?” I grinned cockily. “I bet I could get her to warm up to me.”

  “No,” Jase replied bluntly. “Whatever you’re thinking, just no. You’re not even here that often. If you annoy her, I’m the one who’s going to be dealing with the fallout.”

  “Fine, fine,” I sighed placatingly.

  “Anyway, aren’t you here to speak to Director Flint?” Jase asked, smoothly changing the subject.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Is it a good case?”

  “Define ‘good,’” Jase replied. “I don’t know if I’d ever consider it ‘good’ when a crime is committed. Anyway, just go and get the details from him. I’ve been waiting all day.”

  It was the largest one, tucked into the furthest corner of the floor. The curtains were closed, as usual, so I couldn’t tell if he was actually in there. I knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” the gruff response came just a moment later. I walked in without hesitation and closed the door behind me. The office was quiet, unlike the boisterous bullpen outside. “Sit down.”

  “What’s the case about?” I asked eagerly as I took a seat in the plush leather chair across the desk from him. Flint still looked the same as I remembered. He still had the same stoic unfriendly expression that belied his kind-hearted personality. The biggest difference was the few errant strands of gray hair I could see framing the edge of his hairline.

  “A woman was found dead in her home this morning,” Flint explained. “Senator Alexis Rothschild.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I blinked in surprise. “I heard about that on the news. The SDCT is investigating that case?”

  “Yes,” Flint nodded. “The senator was outspoken on a lot of controversial issues, domestically and internationally. She had her fair share of enemies, any one of whom could have done this. Since this is a potentially politically motivated attack, the SDCT is being called in to help solve it. I called you because you’re good at finding people.”

  I beamed proudly at the compliment. Despite what those fake reviews claimed, I had a one hundred percent success rate. I’d never failed to find anything or anyone a client hired me to locate.

  “Great.” I nodded. “So, what are the details?”

  “She was found by the nanny this morning,” Flint replied without preamble. “According to her, she left the house at around midnight after the senator got home. She arrived this morning at seven AM and called the police at seven-oh-three.”

  “So she was the last person to see her alive and the one who found the body?” I mused.

  “Yep,” Flint nodded. “Both of the senator’s kids were in the house last night. According to the nanny, the oldest child, Josh, was sitting beside his mother’s body when she arrived.”

  “What?” I gasped. “Poor kid.”

  “Yeah.” Flint sighed. “Neither he nor the little sister sleeping upstairs were harmed, though, which makes the case all the more puzzling. Even more mysterious is the fact that there were no signs of forced entry on any of the exterior doors or windows of the house. There were signs of a struggle, though. Several items in the kitchen were knocked around and broken, and the police found traces of skin under Rothschild’s nails.”

  “No DNA matches?” I asked as I committed all the known facts to memory.

  “None in the system.” Flint shook his head. “From what the police could ascertain from the wounds on the victim and the blood spatter found in the kitchen, it seems whoever attacked Rothschild stabbed her first and then bludgeoned her with the base of a kitchen blender as she tried to escape. No money or valuables were taken from the home.”

  “What about the husband?” I asked. “If the kids weren’t harmed and nothing was taken, wouldn’t he be the most likely suspect? I heard on the news that there was a big scandal about their divorce a few weeks back.”

  “He was the first one the police investigated,” Flint confirmed. “But his alibi was airtight. He was at a party in the city last night, with pictures all over social media to prove it.”

  “That seems awfully convenient,” I muttered.

  “I thought so too,” Flint nodded. “Which is why I want you and Agent Park to go speak with him first. There are a lot of rumors flying around right now about who killed the senator, and I need you to parse through them and figure out which have any credibility. The husband’s name is Ryan Rothschild. I’ll forward his address and information to you.”

  “Got it.” I nodded as I got up and left the office to tell Jase.

  I walked through the bullpen toward his desk. His back was to me, and he was bent over his computer, looking at something intently. I smirked mischievously as I approached him slowly.

  “Get your stuff,” I announced loudly as I snuck up behind him. I snickered as he flinched in surprise. “Offic-- Er, Director Flint wants us to go speak to Senator Rothschild’s ex-husband.”

  I’d almost slipped into my old habit of calling him ‘officer.’ It was difficult to break after knowing him for so many years.

  I waited as he quickly packed his work bag before getting up from his desk. Jase was one of the only agents that didn’t have any reservations about working with me, and we were friends, so I got paired up with him any time I consulted on a case with the SDCT. It was actually pretty fun getting to work with your best friend, especially when you were doing something as exciting as investigating a murder. I could feel myself getting pumped as soon as we left the office.

  7

  Jase

  I was pumped that Nick and I would be working on another case together. Nick and I had been friends since way before he even became a detective, back when he was still a part of the mafia. To be honest, I’d been a little afraid of him at first. After I actually got to know him, I realized that he was actually a pretty cool guy, and I felt guilty that I’d initially judged him so harshly.

  I knew first-hand just what a good investigator Nick was. I knew that the other agents at the SDCT were wary of him, and I could understand their reservations, since, in all fairness, I’d been afraid of him too when we’d first met. He really was good at reading people and getting results, though, so it wasn’t just because he was my friend that I supported having him as a consultant.

  “Hello? Earth to Jase?” Nick was staring at me from the passenger seat with an amused smirk on his face.

  “Ah, sorry,” I smiled sheepishly. “I think I zoned out for a minute.”

  “Yeah, I think you did you,” he snickered. “You passed the turn a minute ago.”

  “Seriously?” I asked as I looked down at the GPS. Sure enough, it was attempting to recalculate a new route.

  I pulled into the nearest side street so I could turn around. I had a pretty bad
habit of daydreaming and spacing out. Honestly, I’d always suspected that I might have ADHD or something along those lines, but my parents didn’t believe in that kind of stuff. I couldn’t really blame them, considering they obviously had enough on their plates dealing with escaping from an oppressive dictatorship. Most people who defected from North Korea headed to South Korea and stayed there. My parents had gone the extra mile and traveled all the way to the other side of the world to the United States. They’d risked everything for me, and of course, I was grateful, but sometimes I worried that my issues with focusing might affect my job performance.

  “It’s up here on the right,” Nick informed me when we were almost to the Senator’s home. I cursed silently as I realized I had drifted off again. It was just so easy to do when I was driving. It was easier for me to stay focused when I was actively investigating a crime scene or pouring over investigative files, but the monotonous motion of driving was just so boring that I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering.

  “All right, let’s go.” I nodded as I stepped out of the car.

  The senator’s house was enormous, with a big, vibrant garden in the front and a sprawling, well-manicured lawn stretched all around the perimeter. A police car was stationed out front, and I could see yellow police tape and multicolored police markers through the open front door. A uniformed officer stepped out of the car and eyed us warily as we approached.

  “How can I help you, gentlemen?” He called as he positioned himself between us and the front door.

  “I’m Agent Park with the SDCT.” I introduced myself as I handed over my SDCT credentials. “This is Costa PI. We’re here to have a look at the crime scene.”

  “Ah, right,” the officer visibly relaxed. “I heard you’d be coming by. Well, we were just about finished when we got the call that you’d be taking over. Everything is still in place, just as we found it. The kids are with CPS already, though. It’s hard to tell just how much of the scene was damaged by the son.”