by C. A. Szarek
Maddie snatched the paper in his hand and Gio watched her eyes scan each typed line, then again, as she went from top to bottom.
She smiled. A wide and genuine one; proud.
Bile rose up to meet the lump dominating his throat.
She made quick introductions of the new newcomers to the team, but his head was fading in and out, and he barely remembered anything about meeting Senior Inspectors Roger Griggs and April Bailey, except the man had striking green eyes that stood out from his burnt caramel skin.
They shook hands, but his was clammy against the firm shake and no amount of ignoring it was alleviating the need to spew the coffee he’d had at Maddie’s place.
This couldn’t be happening.
There hadn’t been enough time.
Sure, they had docs from the IRS and FBI that showed mismatching numbers, but how was there enough probable cause for a federal judge to sign off on a search warrant?
He hadn’t been able to prove his father and sister weren’t involved.
Gio couldn’t panic, but that was the exact emotion slithering around his spine like a snake. A venomous viper that would sink its fangs into his brainstem as soon as it was fully seated.
The pretty female marshal wore an odd expression when they finished shaking hands.
His crazy must be showing, because he felt like he was losing his mind.
Always observant, Maddie’s gaze landed on him, and her brightness faded.
Her coworkers from the Marshal’s Service made their way to the food table and she assured everyone they would talk warrant-executing logistics in a few moments.
“You okay?” she asked, her eyes scanning his face.
Gio forced a nod, sliding his arms across his chest to steady himself. He wanted to wipe his palms on his jeans, but resisted the need.
“Can I have a word with you in private?” she asked.
An awkward hush sucked the anticipation from the room.
All eyes were on them, but he didn’t give a flying fuck. In the back of his head, something whispered for him to get a hold of himself, and it echoed, becoming louder, reminding him his privacy, his secret, was going to be exposed.
Maybe his nickname had scattered people’s brains enough not to ask if the casino was tied to him in some way, but he worked with a bunch of smart people, and even if they didn’t always ask nosy questions to his face, maybe they all knew.
Maybe they’d all whispered behind his back.
If so, why had Olinsky let him remain on the taskforce?
Was his name the reason Inspector Bailey had peered at him so strangely? Was she whispering the query about Detective Giovanni and The Giovanni casino that seemed so obvious?
Was it in neon lights on his forehead?
Maddie’s hand landed on his wrist, and she practically dragged him into the hallway, but she looked around and shook her head. It clearly wasn’t secure enough for her tastes, so she guided him down the corridor to an interview room. She shut the door behind them.
His head was on some chaotic loop, ideas of what he could and couldn’t do flying back and forth. Walking the line between legal, moral and ethical, mixed with worries his connection would be discovered, down to him being implicated in the investigation.
It wouldn’t quiet.
He didn’t know what to do. Or say.
Gio didn’t miss her making sure the camera in the corner of the room was off.
Maddie whirled on him, her hands in front of her, as if she wanted to reach for him but had thought better of it.
Neither of them made any move to take a seat at the small table.
“Maybe you should sit this one out.” Her voice was low, a tad hesitant, as if she was afraid to give an order, even though it was her right as leader of the taskforce.
His anger was whiplash fast, helping to clear some of the anarchy in his brain. He glared. “Hell no.”
“Gio—”
“Fuck that, Maddie.” He gritted his teeth and tried not to use his body’s size to intimidate her, despite them being alone. Gio made tight fists at his sides, opening and clenching his hands until his fingers hurt, because he didn’t know what else to do with them. His whole form was made up of twitches, as if tweaking on meth.
Rage boiled beneath the surface and he started pacing.
Couldn’t help it. Couldn’t meet her eyes.
“This is my fucking family, Mads.” He fizzled out.
“I know. That’s kinda my point.” She used that same even-keel soothing tone.
Maddie really didn’t need to try to calm him, because her presence always did it; it was a normal thing for him.
To be calmed by Maddie, like he’d told her the night before.
This…it was different, wasn’t it?
“You said you’d let me prove his innocence. My sister looks guilty as fuck, too, and she sure as hell never cleaned a dime of mob money in her entire life.”
“Gio—”
He jerked back when she reached for him again, but his lover was undeterred, and stepped into his chest, wrapping her arms around him.
Gio froze; half-surprised she’d hug him at work. Even when he was swept into a giant headfuck.
It was only about two seconds later when his arms pulled her closer of their own accord. He closed his eyes, laying his cheek against her soft hair and took in her scent.
After last night, he’d always have fresh-cut wildflowers wrapped around his olfactory system. Not exactly a bad thing.
She slipped away too soon, as if she’d remembered where they were. “The fact remains, money was laundered at your father’s casino,” Maddie said softly. “I need assurances, Gio.”
He swallowed for the thousandth time. “He didn’t do it. She didn’t do it. My dad’s still in the hospital, for Chrissakes.” He ignored her last statement, because he knew what she wanted, and she should know him better that. Better than needing a verbal confirmation.
Gio was a cop first, and a damn good one.
He wanted to yell at her.
Her pretty eyes finally landed on his face. “Assurances,” she repeated.
He stared in silence.
“If you come; if you’re there to assist executing this warrant, I need assurances you’ll turn in any evidence you find. No matter who it might implicate.”
He refused to give her what she wanted. Not because he wasn’t going to do it; he wasn’t stupid, he loved his job and wouldn’t break the law, but he couldn’t tell Maddie what she needed to hear because there wasn’t going be anything to turn in.
Gio couldn’t find the words to declare that, either.
His family wasn’t guilty.
He probably should reveal Elise’s fiancé wasn’t who he claimed, but he didn’t share it. He should want to, right?
If it could help exonerate his dad and sister?
Gio couldn’t say who the guy really was, but he could do the math. There was no funky financial record exceeding nine months in age.
The cockstain had no personal records before the same period of time, and had been the dingleberry hanging from his father’s ass the same amount of time.
But who was the fucker, if he wasn’t Marco Fratelli?
If he was the one cleaning mob cash at The Giovanni, how was he going to prove it?
“I need you fully on board. We have some facts, but not enough to make a concrete case,” Maddie admitted.
“Then let’s go serve the fucking warrant.”
****
For once Gio didn’t arrive at The Giovanni on his Ducati, or park in the employee parking garage. He rode with his team and the newly-arrived marshals, and he wouldn’t be entering a back door with a fob.
Gio was…embarrassed.
The only thing that would fix this was if he caught Not-Really-Marco the fuckwad doing something arrestable.
He was relieved his father wasn’t on the premises, but that was odd, wasn’t it? Hadn’t he always dreamed about showing Big Tony whatfor?
We
ll, not like this.
The search warrant would be presented to his sister before the team went to town on the executive and accounting department offices. That was going to be bad enough. He hoped he could be scarce for that part.
Gio might not survive her shock and hurt, since he was there to help locate evidence that would prove their father—prove Elise—was guilty of federal crimes.
Crimes that resulted in years of prison time. Crimes he knew in his heart, down to his bones, his family members were not guilty of.
Perhaps at one time he would’ve considered Big Tony capable, but not really. His father might’ve been born and raised in Mobtown, but he’d never committed a crime, to Gio’s knowledge. Why would he start laundering money after running a successful casino on the Vegas strip for the last forty years?
Big Tony Giovanni wasn’t hurting for cash—far from it. Even Maddie had to admit the suspected dirty money through his father’s casino had been a recent thing.
Nine months recent.
Not-Marco-the cockstain.
He slammed the van door shut, then adjusted his bullet-proof vest to a more comfortable position. He made sure the straps were secure, and his badge swayed on the chain around his neck. Securing it would be better, but he didn’t really give a shit at this point.
“You okay?” Maddie asked.
Gio grunted.
She’d insisted on the protection, and although it was standard protocol, it was ridiculous in this instance. It was a search warrant, not a dangerous arrest or retrieval mission, and besides, his sister was the executive they were going to be meeting.
Did Maddie think Elise would meet them at the office door with a bazooka?
The idea almost made him smile. His sister was a badass.
“Great, we’re relegated to Neanderthal communication skills?” she grumbled.
“Gio’s never been a big talker.” Hector Garcia chuckled, and patted the back of Gio’s shoulder.
He wanted to sneer at his buddy. Instead he maintained his silence and arched an eyebrow at them both.
Their two vans were on the far side of the vast building and civilians roamed everywhere, even though they weren’t facing the strip.
Stupid tourists.
They’d opted to execute the warrant immediately, since The Giovanni was a twenty-four/seven operation, and they wanted to enter the offices during regular business hours.
Gio had to commend Maddie for not addressing him specifically for answers about operations when they’d returned to the conference room. He also had to admire her ability to pull herself together and brief the whole team like nothing had happened between them in that interview room.
Like nothing had happened between them last night.
She had her game face on.
Back when they’d first met, and she’d been a part of a joint fugitive squad, he’d only been support personnel when they’d located the bastard, since he’d been a uniform patrol cop. Gio hadn’t gotten to see her in real action. He’d never doubted her ability to do her job, but it was nice to see her at work.
Or, it would be if she wasn’t trying to bust his family.
Still, Maddie Granger was a tough broad, and that was sexy as hell.
It was hard to stay mad at her.
Was he mad at her?
This investigation, as wrong as it might be, wasn’t Maddie’s fault. Maybe he knew that deep down, unless his dick was still doing all the thinking?
Gio didn’t want to know the answer, and he wasn’t about to involve any other organ; especially the one in the vicinity of his chest, so he’d just have to ride with this.
Do his job.
Prove his father and his sister weren’t laundering money for the mob. They weren’t capable of something so egregious—or stupid.
He might not jive with ‘ol Pops, but his father and sister were brilliant in business. If it was otherwise, The Giovanni never would’ve lasted all these years, through recessions and back stock exchanges crises.
“Listen up,” Maddie said, her commanding voice thick with confidence.
His embarrassment really was going to eat him alive. It roiled his gut, and he was probably going to end up with symptoms of the worst case of indigestion in history.
Yet, being there, seeing things for himself, was better than the alternative.
“Remember where your assignments are, when we get in there. Bring anything of notice to me, or Inspectors Griggs or Bailey. We do this safely, and as thoroughly as we can,” Maddie continued.
“No one gets hurt,” Griggs cosigned.
Gio wanted to roll his eyes. No. Shit. His sister was innocent. Not to mention unarmed.
Of course, there was armed security on the premises, but it wasn’t like it was security POS to draw down on the cops.
He did want to get his hands—deadly force had appeal—on Elise’s fucking fiancé, but he couldn’t share with the class until he knew more.
Maybe if nothing else, today would result in a positive ID of Not-Marco the cockwad.
Chapter Thirteen
Maddie’s instincts told her to stay close to Gio, but she questioned her own motives. He was more than brooding. If he was a comic strip character, he’d have a thundercloud over his head. With lightning. A lot of lightning.
Despite telling him she needed assurance, she did trust him. He was a good cop by all accounts of his coworkers, and she knew him to be a man with integrity. A man she cared about. The man who’d fathered her son.
She stopped mid-step. Maddie didn’t have time, nor was this the headspace for Jake, Gio and her guilt. This was one time where it legitimately needed to be for later.
Well, this is the rest. You got this, girl.
She needed to maintain that, pin it to her brain and handle this. As she’d told the team, she didn’t anticipate danger, but they all needed to prepare for any possibility. Like any time they did an op. Serving warrants went sideways all the time.
“Inspector Granger? You okay?” Garcia asked, close to her ear.
“You bet.” She forced a smile.
Gio shouldered past the shorter detective to come up beside her, as if he didn’t want his friend so near her. He still didn’t speak, and Garcia quirked a knowing smirk.
Maddie ignored both men and led the group of marshals and LVMPD’s finest into the massive casino. She headed straight for the first uniformed security officer in sight, and demanded access to the executive offices.
She wouldn’t state their purpose until she had to, out of respect for Gio. If the team thought it odd, no one said. For that, she was grateful.
No doubt Gio had access of his own, but she didn’t want to blow what he’d referred to as his privacy.
Besides, it gave her plausible deniability of their connection. If no one managed to uncover her past cases, and discovered her little trip to Sin City eight years ago.
Conflict of interest floated around in her head and she ignored it. It wasn’t like rules hadn’t already been shattered. The man had spent the night in her bed, after all.
Awareness zinged down her spine, partly due to her too-vivid-for-its-own-good memory, and partly because Gio was at her side.
Evidently, he agreed with her idea of the two of them sticking together. He’d insisted he would be the one to search his father’s office, so when they got there, Maddie would go with him.
The young security officer’s eyes went bigger than a jackpot winner, and he raked his gaze over their whole unit before finally settling and locking in on Gio.
Obviously, the man knew who he was, and she commended him for not publicly shaming him, or even addressing him by name.
Gio’s family would see his involvement with the warrant as a traitorous act, since the investigation would seem as if it’d come out of the blue to them.
She closed her eyes for a split-second and took what she hoped was an unnoticeable fortifying breath. She’d always adored his siblings. Especially Elise.
As so
on as the younger woman recognized her, any shred of friendship they’d ever had would be ripped away. Torn to pieces and whipped into non-existence.
The security officer got on the radio, and two more uniforms joined his podium. They also leered at Gio with recognition in their eyes. Silent recognition, like their counterparts, so perhaps the gods were with them this day. For his sake, anyways.
Maddie tried not to spare him a glance, but her periphery couldn’t escape, and his Adam’s apple bobbed a few times, as if he couldn’t stop swallowing. She inhaled through her nose and prayed he wouldn’t hate her forever. There was no way he didn’t blame this situation all on her, even if she was just doing her job.
She suddenly wanted to be anywhere but at The Giovanni, especially in this capacity.
Two of the officers escorted them to the executive offices. The farther away from the casino floor they got, the more the blinking wildly colored lights and beeps, bings, dings and sirens faded, and it was disconcerting, making the walk an awkwardly mute affair.
The noises of heavy boot-steps, keys rattling and leather gear creaking enveloped the corridor, and for some reason it made her want to flee.
Elise Giovanni met them in front of the huge curved dark wood receptionist desk with her hands on both shapely hips.
The vivacious college student Maddie had met and made fast friends with eight years ago had become an ethereal beauty, with shoulder length blonde hair and a killer body she didn’t seem too shy to show off.
The fire-engine red business suit fit her like a second skin, and the pencil skirt stopped right above her knees. Her three-quarter length sleeve blazer was buttoned, the white shirt beneath still hinted at cleavage. She even had a jeweled brooch of the casino’s logo on her lapel.
Her shoes were no doubt Louboutins, matching her outfit, as did her cherry-red lipstick. If her narrowed eyes and pursed lips were any indication, she wasn’t happy they were there, even if she couldn’t know why.
Yet.
Maddie’s stomach inverted and she inhaled. Expensive-smelling and appealing perfume teased her senses.
They had an audience of more than the rest of her taskforce. People stared through the offices’ glass walls, down to the brunette receptionist behind Elise, who looked on with her mouth parted and her eyes wide.
