by C. A. Szarek
Gio tried to convince his shoulders to loosen, and his gut to climb up his legs and settle where it belonged. It’d taken a dive for his toes the moment Olinsky had ordered him to come in.
Maybe if her boss hadn’t called her at the same time, it wouldn’t have freaked him out, but instinct told him the double call wasn’t a coincidence.
He wasn’t that lucky.
He knew what it was about.
There was only one reason his boss, and Maddie’s would call them in at the same time.
They’d discovered his tie to the casino.
Fuck. Me.
Gio wouldn’t let her go down for what he’d kept from his supervisors for years. It wasn’t Maddie’s fault Olinsky never knew.
She might have to answer for keeping him on the taskforce, but even that, he could deny she knew.
Would she let him lie for her?
Madison Granger might be too good for that shit, but he wasn’t.
Son of a bitch.
He wanted to slam his hand on the steering wheel. He gritted his teeth instead. It’d taken him more than four years to restore this car, and he barely drove it, because he had the Ducati. This vehicle was his pride and joy, besides Maddie and Jake.
The 1967 GTO had been his dream car as a kid, and he’d bought one that was barely a bucket of bolts when he’d turned twenty-five, as a birthday present to himself. Both his brothers had helped him with the restoration, so it’d been a brotherly bonding project, too. He could say what he wanted to about Dom, but the guy was a hell of a mechanic. He’d helped Gio with all the hard stuff he couldn’t figure out on his own.
If only his brother would apply himself, he could have his own shop. Dom was equally good at suping them up, as getting them back on the road. But he was still too far up Big Tony’s ass to want to branch out and be a real success.
He also needed to get off the constant pussy carousel and out of the bottle before he could do anything meaningful.
Gio had kept to the original equipment as much as possible, except for seatbelts and the stereo system—even he needed USBs to charge his cell—but the body had been a bronze color, and he’d had it repainted a baby blue. He’d done research and made sure it was the same shade available in 1967, too.
Maddie had gushed when he’d pulled up to pick them up for the airport.
Jamie must not be into cars, because she hadn’t said much, but his son had been excited.
His lover had always had a thing for classic muscle cars, and it was nice to see that Jake wasn’t much different. He’d seemed genuinely impressed; well, enough for a seven-year-old.
Gio pulled into the same parking spot he always left the Ducati, and didn’t want to even see the damn building. People came and went, both uniform cops checking out marked cruisers, and a few detectives running late like them.
“What’re you thinking?” Maddie asked. Her voice was low and shaky, and he immediately wanted to comfort her.
Should he tell her what he thought this little meeting was about?
If he didn’t, perhaps any shock she’d display would be genuine instead of rehearsed, so he held his tongue.
Why should they both feel like they were on the hot-seat?
Then again, she wasn’t stupid. She’d probably done the math, too.
“No clue, Mads.” The lie came out smooth, and for that he was grateful. He reached for her thigh and squeezed. “It’ll be okay.”
God, he hoped he wasn’t lying.
She stared hard; he felt like he was under an X-ray.
“I don’t believe you.”
His heart thumped from the area his gut was residing, but swallowing didn’t fix either sensation.
“We both know what this is about,” she whispered seriously. “What do you want to do about it?”
“Fuck.” He shoved his hand through his hair. It was getting long, and he needed a cut. “What can we do?”
“I don’t want to lose my job,” Maddie admitted, her cheeks tinged pink, as if she was embarrassed about being honest.
“It won’t come to that,” Gio said. There was a hardness to his statement that made her eyes come back up.
“You can’t know that.”
Yes he could. He did. Because he’d take the fall for her.
Every. Damn. Time.
Because he fucking loved her.
Not that he could tell her that.
She maintained his gaze. “Gio—”
Maddie reached for his arm, but he pulled away, turned the car off and practically ripped his key from the ignition.
“Look, no use sitting here losing your shit. Let’s go inside.”
She glanced at the building then back at him. “To the firing squad.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Every step was heavier, like quicksand sucking Maddie down as she fought to move forward. She couldn’t remember not wanting to do something more, despite Gio at her side.
He wasn’t speaking, and that made it worse.
She’d been truthful in the car; Maddie didn’t want to lose her job. Besides Jake and Jamie, this job was her life.
It couldn’t be that bad, could it?
Of course it is; Randall’s here.
She’d ask, what the hell, but she wasn’t stupid. Randall’s call had everything to do with Gio and the casino.
It couldn’t be anything else.
She hadn’t done anything to merit “getting in trouble.”
Jesus, was she a kid?
This was way worse than getting called to the principal’s office.
Captain Olinsky had called at the same time, so that really spoke to her instinct being spot-on.
They were screwed.
The conversation with Griggs floated into her memory. Had he shared his suspicions with Randall? Her boss wasn’t his boss, so why would he?
Then again, the whole team had heard her yell at Gio about the little brown book, and seen his subsequent flight of the room.
Maybe there was a lot of adding up going on for task force members. They were cops; far from stupid. She’d like to think she could take Griggs at his word—or more accurately, that he’d taken her at hers, but did she know him well enough?
Trust was earned. Had she blown his?
What about April Bailey? Maddie didn’t know her fellow marshals beyond ‘acquaintance.’ She didn’t know Gio’s fellow detectives well, not even the smiley Hector Garcia. Maybe any welcome she’d been shown was all polite bullshit.
None of it mattered now. Building paranoia and microscoping every conversation wasn’t going to help.
The stroll down the hallway was stressful. It seemed to stretch out, as if it was a literal mile long.
Gio remained silent as they walked with matching strides. Not fast or slow, just steady, until they turned the corner and Deputy Chief Patton’s door was visible.
The glass-paned entry was open.
She studied Gio’s profile.
His jaw was tight, like he was biting down, and his face muscles rippled. Still didn’t speak, but paused in front of the doorway and gestured for her to enter in front of him.
They made brief eye contact, but she didn’t offer any words. She didn’t need chivalry to extend to an escort to the gallows.
Oh, stop being dramatic.
She rolled her eyes at herself.
Maddie visually swept the room. The requisite two chairs on the opposite side of the deputy chief’s desk pretty much had a spotlight on them. She wanted to avoid them; as if snakes and spiders crawled all over them.
Patton sat behind her desk, her pen in hand like a weapon.
The two men—her boss, and Captain Olinsky—bookended her, standing.
The wall of intimidation might not have been intentional, but it was all Maddie could see. All she could feel. Air was harder to get out; an elephant was sitting on her chest.
The deputy chief’s expression was implacable. She was stern by nature, with short brown hair and eyes to match
, appearing younger than her fifty-odd years. No doubt her persona had been long-crafted by fighting to rise in a boy’s club. Rise she had, to command two divisions at LMVPD.
Gio had told her she’d been a cop for almost thirty years. Patton didn’t put up with any shit, either.
God, had it really been less than a week ago?
The room was large, lined with bookshelves and file cabinets. The deputy chief’s desk was pretty much centered, making it the focus. To the right sat a medium-sized round table with four chairs.
There were two windows in the far left wall. She wished they were open. She wanted to tug at her collar. A collar that was nowhere near her neck.
Maddie tried to sit as tall as possible in the chair in front of the desk. The same chair she’d sat in the first day. The office was stuffy, with little movement to the air, contradicting the size of the space. It felt dismal, unused and uncomfortable.
None of that was true, but it didn’t seem to matter, either.
Gio took a seat and leaned back, crossing one leg like a bridge over the other, his ankle on his opposite knee. He slapped his hand down, as if he couldn’t feel the tension in the room.
Like this meeting was no BFD.
She needed to borrow some of his, “I don’t give a fuck.”
He was projecting pretty hard, so it was there for the taking.
Olinsky’s almost comb-over was mussed, like he’d run his fingers through it a few times, and his expression exasperated, with a side of irritation.
If Maddie had to guess, Patton had probably chastised him for not knowing about Gio that should’ve been obvious.
She tried to avoid her boss’ dark eyes, which were narrowed to slits. His ebony skin made him more intimidating for some reason. Not because of his race, but maybe because his expression was shadowed, foreboding, by his strong jaw line and trimmed goatee.
Doug Randall stood like a tree, his stocky arms crossed over a beefy chest, as if he had better things to do with his time, and was disappointed with her.
That made the need to squirm tingle down her spine until she exhibited symptoms of Restless Leg Syndrome. She might not know him well, but Maddie sure as hell wasn’t in the habit of letting down a superior, especially in week one.
His laser focus was on her, as he waited.
Chief Patton cleared her throat. “We’ve received a complaint, and wanted to give you both a chance to answer to it.”
Both?
Weren’t these things supposed to be handled one-on-one? There wasn’t going to be even a hint of privacy?
Great.
“We need to make it quick, I’m on a plane to Virginia in less than two hours,” Randall said. His eyes landed on hers.
Marshal Headquarters were in Arlington, Virginia.
Why was he looking at her like that? Was it because of Maddie that he had to go to Virginia? Assuming he was headed to Marshal Headquarters.
Instead of a suit, he wore black BDUs and black polo with the Marshal’s Service star logo embroidered over his heart, so his clothes weren’t a clue to his trip’s purpose. His gun was duty-belted at his waist and his large form exuded threat and aggravation.
His presence was definitely not casual.
“What’s the complaint?” Gio asked, meeting his deputy chief’s eyes. His question was even, like nothing could bother him.
“A concern about a conflict of interest,” Olinsky said.
Maddie wanted to wince, but pulled for the most placid expression. She could feel Randall’s eyes on her, like he wasn’t concerned with Gio at all. Made sense, since she was the one who worked for him.
“Regarding?” Gio prompted. His voice was that same low tone, as if he was mildly curious, but really didn’t give a shit.
“You.” Deputy Chief Patton pinned him with a serious stare.
He didn’t so much as arch his eyebrow. “And?”
“Is your father Antonio Giovanni, the owner and president of the casino, The Giovanni, and the center of the taskforce’s investigation?”
Maddie fought to keep her eyes open. She tried to stay still and not pant. She didn’t need to give in to the alarm rising from her gut.
“Yes.” His answer was unabashed, with a side of, ‘no shit, you’re in an idiot’ in his affirmative.
Captain Olinsky’s fair complexion reddened to the ruddy color his hair likely once was, and he muttered curses, until the deputy chief shot him a look.
“Granger, were you aware—” Randall opened his mouth, but the rest of him didn’t move. His arms were still locked iron bars across his chest.
“Senior Inspector Granger didn’t know,” Gio cut him off, and slammed his foot down, leaning forward in the chair.
Maddie bit her bottom lip to keep the gasp in. She moved for the first time, turning her torso toward her lover. “Gio—”
He never looked at her, just kept his eyes on his captain and deputy chief. “She didn’t know,” he reasserted.
The reason Gio had been so silent on the walk down the hall hit hard.
He was going to lie.
For her.
He could lose his job.
Her heart skidded to an almost-stop. Everything inside her told her to shout no, to tell the truth.
“So there is a conflict of interest.” Deputy Chief Patton’s statement held a deadly edge.
“How so?” Gio’s voice dropped an octave, which did nothing to disguise his demand. He was skating very close to being insubordinate, and he didn’t need to add that to his list of offenses.
Maddie sat up and opened her mouth, but he kept talking, beating her to it.
“I want a union rep.”
“Gio—” She tried again, but he shot her a silencing look, and readdressed their superiors.
“I haven’t done anything wrong here.”
The way his eyes had barked at her to shut up should’ve pissed her off, but her mind was still reeling to keep up with what he was doing.
Getting himself fired wasn’t going to exonerate his sister and father. He needed to work the case, do what he’d declared, even if he did it, ‘his way.’
Maddie was on his side. She wanted them to be innocent.
“You have. You owed full disclosure to your captain, not to mention the marshals running the taskforce. You should’ve never been involved.”
“I’m an investigator. My personal ties have nothing to do with my abilities.”
“I disagree.” Olinsky made a cutting gesture. “This case has to do with your family; you can’t be objective.”
Gio pitched his body forward even more. In seconds, he’d either shoot to his feet or his ass would have to hover off the padded chair. “My work on this case hasn’t been affected.”
More lies.
He was too close to the case and he had been from the start, but Maddie sure as hell wasn’t going to point that out. He had worked exceptionally, despite their arguments, and him going off on his own.
Gio was a hell of an investigator. She couldn’t argue with that, but she also didn’t want to bring his methods to light. Like the fact he’d removed evidence from the police department without permission.
If she did, they might both be out of a job, for real.
The ledger still hadn’t been checked into evidence properly. The chain of custody could legitimately be called into question, and that could spiral, bringing other aspects of the case under the same scrutiny. Risks she wasn’t willing to take, even if she didn’t want Gio to cover for her.
“Hand over your badge and gun,” Patton ordered, her dark eyes narrowed, and flashing with challenge.
“Like I said, I want a rep,” Gio retorted.
“You’ll need one. You’re suspended.”
He righted himself and flexed his jaw, but didn’t say anything.
A few heartbeats passed and the tension shot up as silence hung heavy in the air.
No one moved or spoke.
Finally, Gio climbed to his feet. With stiff mo
vements, he removed his badge from his belt, and his Sig soon followed. He placed them, reverently, on the desk directly in front of the deputy chief.
Maddie fought a flinch—she’d expected a slam.
Without sparing a further word or glance for anyone—not even her—he left.
****
“Granger, a word.” Doug Randall shook his head, and was the first to speak in the wake of Gio’s departure. He gestured to the hallway outside the deputy chief’s office.
Neither Olinsky, nor Patton, said anything.
Now her boss wanted privacy?
Maddie thought it better than to remark aloud, so she pushed on the arms of the chair to assist her rise to shaky legs.
They didn’t go far, just a few feet away from Deputy Chief Patton’s office. Gio wasn’t anywhere in sight.
Not that she’d really expected him to hang out in the hallway, but he’d brought her to the PD that morning, so she was stranded.
“Is Griggs up to date on the investigation?”
Her boss’ voice pulled her away from scanning the corridor.
“Yes, why?”
He sighed, and his barrel chest rose and fell before he met her eyes. “I’ll be at Headquarters for a few days. Go home, and we’ll talk when I get back.”
“What?” Maddie blinked a few times.
Exasperation darted across his expression. “Obviously, you’re off this case.”
“No.” She shook her head.
The deadliness seeping from his narrowed eyes earlier in the office was back. He also regarded her with a side of, ‘you can’t seriously be that naïve.’
It made heat swirl at the back of her neck before it settled in her cheeks. She was back in high-schooler-being-chastised territory.
“You’ll turn your command over to Griggs.”
“This is my case.”
Randall shook his head. “Look, I can give you the benefit of the doubt about the detective, but your command is over. You don’t need to be anywhere near this case. There’re too many implications.”
He had no idea, and she needed to keep it that way.
At least her personal relationship with Gio hadn’t come up. She’d never had to disclose the name of her child’s father to the Marshal’s Service, and she wasn’t about to tell her boss now.
