by Claire Raye
I leave the bed, unable to look at him and disappear into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
Leaning over the sink I begin to cry as the feeling of judgment and shame washes over me. I didn’t expect this from him, and now any trust I felt has vanished in a matter of seconds.
He thinks I’m hiding something, but worse than that, what if he thinks I should’ve reported it all those years ago. What if I’m an accomplice to everything Anthony has done. Maybe a part of me agreed to help catch Anthony because of my guilt.
A couple of seconds later there’s a knock on the door and the sound of Ryan’s knuckles tapping startles me a little. I guess I expected him to leave; that he’d got what he needed from me so there was no sense in sticking around.
“Erin,” he whispers, and his voice sounds sympathetic, like he’s trying to soothe me. “Baby, can I come in?”
I nod even though I know he can’t see me, pausing for a second before I open the door. I can’t look at him; the guilt of my admission crushing me like a ton of bricks.
“Fuck, Erin, I’m sorry,” Ryan says, pulling me into his arms. “I don’t know how to be your boyfriend in this situation.”
Again I nod, but this time my head is resting against his chest. He’s trained to question people, trained to detach himself emotionally from things and that’s exactly what he did with me.
We were opposites.
When a secret is kept, long and still, held quiet, the only thing that can come of it is emotions and right now everything is spilling out.
“I promise you I know nothing else,” I mutter through muffled sobs, my face pressed to Ryan’s chest. Ryan begins to shush me, his hands rubbing my back, and just as I begin to settle down I ask, “Are you going to arrest me?” As I suck in a ragged breath, the tears falling hard once again.
Ryan chuckles a little but quells it when he realizes I’m serious. “Why would I arrest you?” he asks, and the tone in his voice gives away the smile I know is tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I’m an accomplice or guilty by association? I don’t know…” I say shrugging my shoulders because honestly I don’t know. A mob boss father may have raised me, but I’d never been in trouble with the law in my life. Fuck if I know how it really plays out.
I can do the hiding thing, the money laundering, a new identity, but none of that was in response to anything illegal. As much as I like to think I’m a badass, I’m fucking terrified of what may come from all of this.
Ryan and I stand in the bathroom for a while, his arms wrapped around me, neither of us speaking. I think we’re both trying to process how to proceed, and how to draw that line between our relationship and this situation.
“I don’t want you to go through with this,” Ryan says firmly. “This isn’t good for either of us.”
I push back from him, a feeling of confusion pulsing through my body, because we both know I can end all of this.
“I am going though with it,” I respond back just as assertively. “I understand that we’re both struggling with this fine line we have here, but I can’t carry this burden any longer. I want Anthony arrested. I want this over.”
Ryan sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face and running it though his hair. I can see the stress on his face, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed as he mulls over my words.
“Let me talk with the captain about what you told me, about what you know about Anthony and see if we have enough to arrest him. I’ll run some missing person reports for that year, check Atlanta and Boston and cross-reference them for any mob connections,” Ryan tells me, but I know it’s not enough. It’s one of the reasons I never went to the police long ago. What was I supposed to say? I think I heard gunshots and I think my boyfriend fired the gun? It’s too vague, too simple to use it in any capacity.
“Ryan, we both know it’s not enough and even if it were, you can’t find Anthony.”
He’s like a ghost; he fades into the background, only coming out when he chooses. He’s knows they’re on to him so he’s being cautious right now, but he will crack easily.
He’s a mess; carrying that picture of us, showing up at my house, his botched attempt to kill Ryan; it’s a strategically placed house of cards and it’s about to come crashing down.
When Ryan doesn’t say anything more I add, “He’ll come to me. I’m the one person he knows could ruin it all.”
Sucking in a long hard breath, Ryan says, “Let’s get this fucker.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ryan
Erin and I are drinking coffee in the kitchen when a knock at the door signals Chris’ arrival. I move through to let him in and when we walk into the kitchen, Erin has already poured him a cup.
“Thanks,” he says, taking it from her. “Everything okay last night?” he asks, turning to look at me.
I nod, even though okay is not the word I’d use to describe all the things we talked about, the things Erin told me. This new piece of information about Anthony potentially having murdered someone shouldn’t shock me. But knowing Erin was there that night, that she was so close to something so dangerous and ugly, freaks the shit out of me, even if it did happen over ten years ago now.
“I’m heading back to Boston,” I say, moving to stand behind Erin, my hands resting on her shoulders. “But I’ll be back around noon,” I continue. “We have a situation developing and I’ll likely need your help with it.”
Chris looks from me to Erin and back to me again, silently sipping his coffee. Eventually he nods once and moves toward the table, pulling out the chair opposite us and sitting down. “Guess you better fill me in then,” he says.
Half an hour later and I’m in the car and on my way back to Boston, ready to fill the captain in on what Erin’s told me as well as her willingness to be a part of all this. The coffee I was drinking earlier churns in my stomach, a feeling of nausea washing over me as I try not to think about all the things that could go wrong with this plan.
It doesn’t work though, my mind endlessly racing through all sorts of possibilities and permutations for how this could all play out. Deep down, a part of me knows Anthony won’t hurt Erin, that regardless of how much time has passed or the fact she is now with me, he will never hurt her.
But none of that makes any of this any easier.
By the time I pull into the station, I feel anxious and on edge, my nerves frayed as I walk inside, signaling to Joe and heading straight for the captain’s office.
“Morning,” he says as we both walk in.
“She’s in,” is all I say, in no mood for pleasantries.
The captain and Joe both look at me. “Good,” is all he says, nodding once as he gestures for us to sit down. “We should make this happen quickly,” he continues, oblivious to the shit I’m currently going through. “Before we lose the advantage.”
“There’s one other thing,” I say, my words flat and unemotional.
“Oh?”
“Erin told me something else this morning,” I continue, swallowing hard. “About a possible murder some ten or so years ago. She didn’t see anything, but she’s fairly sure that’s what happened.”
“And it was Anthony?” the captain asks, connecting the dots.
I nod. “Yeah, but like I said, she didn’t actually see it.”
The captain nods again before turning to Joe. “Can you look into this?” he asks. “Get the details and see if we can’t trace it back to a body or missing person’s report?”
“Yep, no problem,” Joe says, turning to me.
“I’m heading straight back to Rockport,” I continue “She’ll make the call, but I want this to happen up there.”
“You don’t have jurisdiction up there, Ryan,” the captain says. “It’s better if we can make it happen in Boston.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s too dangerous down here, too many connections and ways the shit could hit the fan. I know the chief of po
lice,” I continue, knowing Finn will back me on this. “We can make it work.”
The captain stares at me, not saying a word as he takes in my request. Eventually, he nods once, letting out a long breath. “Alright,” he says. “Make it happen. And keep Chris in the loop,” he adds. “You’ll need back-up and I want all possibilities covered.”
“I’m in too,” Joe says immediately. “I’ll come up with you.”
The captain and I both nod before the captain asks, “When are you planning on having this all happen?”
I take a deep breath, scrubbing a hand down my face as I suddenly realize how exhausted I am. “Today,” I eventually say.
On our way back to Rockport, I fill Joe in on everything that’s happened. Afterwards, I call Finn, fill him in on the plan and arrange to meet him at Erin’s place. He suggests bringing Beck in and while it crosses my mind it would be a huge advantage to have my old partner in on this, I also know he’s not a cop anymore and there’s no way I want to risk fucking this up by involving people who shouldn’t be involved. So we agree not to tell Beck, instead bringing in a couple of Finn’s crew.
Finally, I call Erin, fill her in on everything that’s about to happen.
“Okay,” she says, letting out a long breath. “What about Sarah?”
“Shit,” I curse softly, forgetting again that my sister had come down to visit. “I don’t want any unnecessary people involved with this,” I say.
“I agree,” Erin replies. “Do you want me to send her home?”
I exhale loudly, knowing that getting Sarah to do anything she doesn’t want to do is next to impossible. “Do you think you can?” I ask, glancing at Joe who’s silently listening to this entire conversation play out on speaker phone.
Erin chuckles a little, but it’s humorless. “Yeah, I can,” she says. “If you’re okay with me filling her in with a little more detail.”
“Shit, I guess you probably have to,” I concede, knowing the truth is the only possible way we have to convince Sarah she doesn’t need to be around for this. “Get Chris to help, okay?”
“Okay,” Erin says quietly.
“We’ll be there in about twenty minutes,” I add, suddenly acutely aware of how quickly this is all happening.
“Okay,” Erin says again.
I glance at Joe before turning back to the road. “It’s going to be alright, babe,” I say. “I promise.”
“I know,” she says.
“I love you, I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye,” comes her quiet reply.
Finn and I arrive at Erin’s place at the same time. I try to ignore the bruise on his jaw as he makes the introductions to his crew, suddenly feeling like total shit for the way I reacted the other day toward him.
I know none of this is his fault, just like I know it’s not Erin’s. And as much as the idea of them sharing a bed still doesn’t sit quite right for me, a bigger part of me is supremely grateful that he’s been here for her all these years and done everything he can to protect her.
I know I owe him big time for that.
Erin greets us at the front door, quickly grabbing my arm and whispering that Sarah’s gone home.
“She take it okay?” I ask, quickly leaning down to kiss her.
“No, she was pissed about it of course, but we managed to convince her.”
I nod, knowing exactly how my sister would’ve been. “It’s for the best,” I tell her. “I’ll sort it out with her afterwards, I promise.”
We all move into the kitchen and I can’t help but smile at the coffee and bagels Erin has laid out for everyone, as though this is all nothing more than one of her PTA meetings instead of some crazy ass plan to take down her mobster ex-boyfriend.
There are seven of us in total; Finn and two of his boys, Erin, Joe, Chris and me. It doesn’t feel like nearly enough, despite the room feeling crowded and hot as we all stand around waiting.
“Okay,” I eventually say, pulling out a chair for Erin. “This is Hamish’s number,” I add, sliding it in front of her. “Just explain that…”
“It’s cool,” she says, pulling out her phone. “I’ve got this.”
I watch as she swallows hard before typing in the number I gave her, her fingers shaking ever so slightly. Without asking, she puts it on speaker phone, before laying it on the table.
The dial tone sounds loud in the quietness of her kitchen and I swear all of us are holding our breath.
“Hello?” a gravelly voice says, the slightest hint of an Irish accent.
“Hamish?” Erin says, without hesitation. “Hamish Donnelly?”
“Who is this?”
“Erin Fitzgerald,” she answers, the shock of hearing her real name sending a jolt down my spine. “I understand you work for my father?”
“How’d you get this number?”
Erin laughs a little, but it’s insincere. “Please,” she says, as though that much should be obvious. “I need you to pass on a message to Anthony.”
“Don’t know no Anthony,” he says.
“Yes you do,” Erin continues, her voice calm and in control. “And I need you to tell him to call me. Tell him that I need to speak to him about an incident. He’ll know what I’m referring to.”
“Whatever lady,” he says, coughing. “I don’t know no Anthony and I don’t know no Fitzgerald,” he adds. “Don’t call me again.”
The call goes dead and almost immediately Erin lets out a deep breath.
“Fuck,” says one of Finn’s crew, shoving a hand through his hair. “That wasn’t good.”
“He’ll pass on the message,” I say at the same time as Erin says, “Anthony will call.”
We both look at each other, a silent acknowledgement of the incident she was referring to.
“How long do you think this will take?” Finn asks quietly.
I shake my head, but just as I open my mouth, Erin’s phone silences us all.
Unknown number.
“It’s him,” she says, quietly.
“You okay?” I ask, sliding a hand onto her shoulder as I put the recorder on the table so we can tape the call. Hopefully the captain has managed to organize the trace on her phone, although I’m really hoping after today, we won’t need it.
She reaches up and takes my hand in hers, squeezing it gently as she nods. Then she hits the green button.
“Anthony,” she says coldly.
The sound of laughter echoes through the phone, but it’s cruel and without humor. “You’ve got some nerve,” he says.
“I could say the same about you,” Erin replies, her fingers tightening in mine. “Cutting the brake lines, Anthony?” she continues.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, as a knock sounds in the background.
“Bullshit,” Erin says, the word harsh. “I know exactly what you did and who the message was intended for,” she continues. “But I guess you didn’t realize that it would be me driving the car now, did you?”
The sound of breathing comes through the phone, the only confirmation we have that Anthony is still on the line.
“I’m lucky to be alive,” Erin continues, her words twisting a knot of fear in my stomach as I recall how true they are.
“Shit, Erin, I…”
“I don’t need your sympathies,” she continues, cutting him off. “What I need is for this shit to stop. I’m tired of running and I’m tired of hiding. But most of all I’m sick to death of keeping your fucking secrets,” she says.
“What exactly do you want from me?” Anthony says, his voice once again cold and detached.
“I want you to meet me.”
He laughs now. “What, so you can bring your little detective boyfriend along?” he asks condescendingly.
“No,” she says, glancing up at me. “Just you and me.”
“And why would I agree to this?” he asks, but I can tell from the way his tone changes that he’s
contemplating it.
Erin lets out a loud sigh. “I would think given everything I know about you Anthony, after everything you’ve done to me, this would be the least you could fucking do.”
Silence engulfs the room, all of us surprised at the sudden harshness to Erin’s words.
“Fine,” Anthony, eventually says. “Shall I come to your house?”
“No,” Erin immediately says. “Do not come here.”
Anthony chuckles. “Alright then, where would you like to meet?” he asks. “I can be there in an hour, I’m not far, you know.”
Erin glances up, all of us taking in his words. I nod at her, knowing this is it, this is the point of no return.
“Granite Pier,” she ultimately says. “And come alone.”
“One hour,” he responds. “And the same rules apply, Erin.”
The second the line goes dead, Erin collapses back against me, her head resting on my stomach. I lean down, wrapping my arms around her shoulders as I put my mouth to her ear. “You did good, babe,” I whisper. “Really good. I’m proud of you.”
Erin nods once, before saying, “So now what?”
“Now,” Finn says, pulling out a map of the area and spreading it out on the kitchen table, as we all move the cups and plates to the side. “We come up with a plan to catch this bastard.”
Forty-five minutes later we are all in place. This whole thing is happening far quicker than I’d like and while I never expected Anthony to be so close, I know that we can’t afford to waste this opportunity.
“The sooner it happens, the sooner it’s over,” Erin says, squeezing my hand as we sit in her car.
I nod. “I know. I just hate that it has to happen at all.”
Her fingers slide into mine as she lifts our joined hands to her lips. “I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this,” she says against my hand. “I never meant for things to turn out like this.”
“This isn’t your fault, babe,” I say, turning in my seat to face her. “None of this has ever been your fault.”
Erin nods. “I never expected to fall in love with you,” she whispers. “I never expected to have any chance at the future and the life like the one you’ve given me.”
