by Carsen Taite
Right, that. “Not the only reason. I wanted to thank you properly for rescuing me last week. Damn heel nearly killed me.”
Royal grinned again. “It was a gorgeous shoe, and to be clear, it was the SUV that nearly killed you, not the shoes. Your security detail should be more careful with you.”
Siobhan nearly confessed she’d ditched them for the rendezvous with the shop model, but she stopped before oversharing that little tidbit. What was it about this woman that made her lose her composure? All she could think about right now was the way she’d felt tucked in Royal’s arms, lying in the street. Not her best moment, but not the worst either. “How about you focus on your job and I’ll worry about my own safety from here on out?”
Royal raised her palms. “Sure. Whatever you like.”
Siobhan waited, but apparently that was all Royal had to say. This woman’s presence was disconcerting. Time to end this meeting before she grew more distracted, but she still hadn’t done what she’d brought Royal here to do. She reached into her desk and pulled out a business card, the fancy ivory linen stationery feeling good against her fingers. She uncapped her favorite Visconti pen and scrawled her cell phone number on the back of the card before handing it across the desk. Royal reached for her outstretched hand, and for a second their fingers touched with a buzz of electricity.
“What’s this?”
“My personal number.”
“In case I want to ask you out on a date?”
Siobhan choked a laugh. “I don’t date. But I do return favors and I owe you. Save that for when you need something truly important.”
Royal examined both sides of the card and blew on the still drying ink from Siobhan’s pen. As Siobhan watched her tuck the card in her jacket, she felt heat rise from her neck to her face and prayed she wasn’t turning red. This was getting ridiculous—acting like a schoolgirl with her first crush. She stood. “Robert’s probably wondering if we’ve tossed you into the secret dungeon.”
“There’s a secret dungeon? I’m intrigued.”
“Of course you are.” Siobhan rolled her eyes and then led the way back downstairs, where they found Robert flirting with one of the maids. Typical. Made guys always acted like any female in their vicinity was hot for them. She glanced at Royal and wondered why she didn’t find her flirting offensive in the same way. It was different. Like they were both on the same level, unlike the maid who had no choice but to put up with the macho act or risk losing her job. Royal frowned at Robert—only for a second, but long enough to signal she didn’t approve of his macho routine. Maybe it was because Royal was a woman, or maybe she was simply a different breed than the guys who usually came around. Siobhan wished she didn’t care which, but she felt invested in this woman who’d stepped out of her normal routine to step in front of a moving vehicle to save her life.
“She check out okay?” Robert asked.
“Feel free to show her around the property,” Siobhan said, ignoring the more direct question. “The don is in a meeting. Make sure you do not disturb him.” She hesitated a second before walking away. Long enough to catch Royal’s eye and share a nod. There was definitely a connection there. What was she going to do about it?
Chapter Six
Royal pulled the suit bag from her closet and unzipped the zipper. If she’d known she’d have to wear a tux for this gig, she would’ve told her boss to shove it. He must’ve known because it was lurking in the closet when she’d moved in along with a bunch of other stuff. Books, knickknacks. A casual observer wouldn’t be able to tell she’d moved in just last week, and that was the whole idea.
She dried her hair and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t see it, but plenty of women had told her she was good-looking, and she’d never had any trouble capitalizing on her appearance, especially when it came to her job. She could definitely tell Siobhan had been intrigued but hadn’t fallen all over herself the way some women did, and Royal respected her for being impervious to her playful flirtation. Siobhan was a serious woman, and it would take a serious amount of effort to get close to her.
She’d read the dossier on Siobhan, and while it was illuminating, it left more questions than answers. Siobhan had spent her youth at the Mancuso mansion. Her mother had been an employee on the household staff, and Siobhan had grown up with the Mancuso children, forming a close bond with the family. Her mother died when she was ten, but instead of being shuttled off to live with some other relatives, Siobhan stayed at the mansion, where Carlo Mancuso took a personal interest in her education. She attended Tulane Law School, returning after graduation to open a private practice that, as far as anyone could tell, was devoted to one client only—the Mancuso family. She was regularly in court with OC goons, but the rumor was her real expertise was advising the don about his business interests and she was actually his chief consigliere.
It was highly unusual for an old school crime family to have a female consigliere, let alone one as young as Siobhan, but Mancuso was known for bucking trends. Although his younger daughter, Celia, was more of an appear on the society page type, Dominique reportedly had a large role in the crime family’s operations.
Royal slipped into the tux and tied the damn bow tie, cursing her boss for not providing the clip-on kind. She flashed to an old memory of tying a bow around Ryan’s neck when he was getting ready for prom and she wondered how he was doing. Something big was going on with him, but she knew no amount of pressuring him was going to make him share. She got it. She’d been in the military too and had witnessed things she’d give anything not to have seen. Was he still at her apartment? It was a forty-five-minute drive away if she wanted to check, but she didn’t plan to risk a visit while she was undercover. Too easy to slip up and get made. She’d find a way to contact him once she was fully settled in.
A knock on the door shook her out of her thoughts. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and she considered ignoring the interruption, but a few seconds later, the knocking grew louder in what sounded like someone pounding their fists against the door. Whoever it was, wasn’t giving up, and she strode to the front of the house before the neighbors could get suspicious about what was going on.
From what she could see through the door viewer, the guy on the other side of the door was tall and thin and dressed in a tuxedo. Royal instantly knew he was there for her and this was some kind of test. She mentally ran through the photos she’d committed to memory of the people in Mancuso’s orbit, searching for a match. Leo Rossi, Robert Valentino’s cousin.
“We’re going to be late if you don’t open up.”
He didn’t sound angry, just like he sincerely didn’t want to be late. Royal swung the door wide.
“Cool it,” she said. “I’ve got neighbors who don’t want to hear a bunch of commotion.”
“Fuck ’em,” Leo said. He stuck out his hand. “Leo Rossi. Robert tell you I was picking you up?”
“No.”
Leo grinned. “Well, here I am. You gonna invite me in or what?”
Royal wanted to say no, but she knew that answer wouldn’t fly. “Thought you said we’re going to be late.”
“Not too late to have a drink first. Whiskey?”
Royal silently thanked the agents who’d thought to stock the place with alcohol. “Sure.” She led the way to the dining room and opened the tall cabinet next to the table. She ignored the more expensive Scotch and pulled down a twelve-year-old bottle of The McCallan and two short heavy glasses. While she poured, she mentally ran through everything she knew about Rossi. He was Robert Valentino’s cousin. Not an official employee of Valentino’s, but he handled random jobs for Robert. Not a made guy, yet, but definitely interested in taking on more responsibility. Picking her up and keeping an eye on her was likely his contribution to the wedding day. The best thing she could do was to act like his presence was no big deal. She handed him one of the glasses and raised hers in a toast. “To the bride and groom.”
“Cheers,” Leo said and downed t
he shot with one gulp. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “Good stuff.”
She’d been right not to waste the really expensive Scotch on him. “What do you expect? Booze is my thing. You ready to go?”
He looked longingly at the bar, but she didn’t offer a refill, partly to retain power and partly because she wasn’t interested in having her driver be drunk before they got to the wedding.
“Yeah, we should probably get going.”
“Right. Be ready in a sec.” Royal left him to process her response and went back to the bedroom to grab her wallet. While she was there she double-checked to make sure the tiny camera stowed in the lapel of her tux was secure and undetectable. Today was going to be a treasure trove of intel, and she needed to capture as much of it as possible. Normally, she’d spend weeks or months building up enough rapport to get an inside track to an event like the Mancuso wedding, and she needed to make the most of the opportunity. She was ready for whatever the day had in store, and if that included seeing Siobhan Collins again, then that was a bonus.
“We got to run an errand on the way,” Leo said as he turned off her street.
“No time.” Royal pointed at the dashboard clock, fixing her face into a neutral expression to hide the sense of dread creeping up her spine. “I need to make sure things are set up the way I want.”
Leo waved her off. “It’s cool. Family’s going to be at the church for a while. Father Anthony is long-winded.” He took the ramp to I-35. “We’ve got time.”
It wasn’t cool, but Royal didn’t have a lot of options. She could order him to take her to the Mancuso mansion or she could act nonchalant and play this out. She had a feeling this little detour was a hazing and the best thing she could do was relax into it and act like it was no big deal to go along. “Cool. Show me what you have in mind.”
Leo whistled Britney Spears’s “Toxic” like he was trying out for a spot on her tour, and Royal squelched her annoyance at his off-key massacre of the tune and settled into dividing her attention between tracking their movements and observing him. From what she remembered from the file, Leo was younger than she was, but he wasn’t new to organized crime, having started working for Robert when he was still in high school. Bootlegging seemed so old school, but it was a steady business since alcohol was more stable than real estate when it came to financial investments. Easy, accessible, and the demand crossed all economic lines. While other crime families turned to more trendy enterprises, Mancuso had chosen to invest heavily in businesses that supported his, and booze was at the heart of it.
“You grow up here?”
“In Dallas? No,” she lied. “Lived in Houston most of my life, but I’m always open for new opportunities.”
“Right. I hear that. Lots of those here if you’re willing to put in the work.”
Royal heard a slight edge and wondered if he was offering a warning or friendly advice. “How about you? You grow up here?”
“You bet. Played high school ball and everything. You need anything around here, you let me know. I know all the best spots.”
A dubious offer for sure. Royal nodded. “Will do.”
“We’re here.” Leo pointed up ahead at a string of warehouses. They were near Harry Hines, and on a Saturday, most of the warehouse fronts were closed. Royal’s senses went on high alert as she realized something was about to go down, but she resisted asking any questions, knowing there was a fine line between healthy curiosity and suspicion.
Leo pulled the car up alongside the loading ramp at one of the warehouses and cut the engine. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, tapping to the tune that was no longer playing. His hopped-up state was disconcerting, but Royal masked any reaction. She’d expected a test—there was always a test—and the best way to pass was to stay calm. Whatever was about to happen, it was part of the role she was playing, and as long as she stayed in character she’d pass. While she worked this case, she had to sublimate her identity as a cop until she’d gathered enough intel to send the upper echelon of the Mancuso family away for a long, long time. Including Siobhan Collins, no matter how intriguing she might be.
She heard a loud rumble behind them and glanced back to see a semi-trailer pulling into the parking lot, followed by a black Suburban with tinted windows. The truck moved past them, but the SUV pulled up right alongside. Leo’s drumming fingers increased their pace, letting her know whoever these people were, their arrival was what he’d been waiting for. She had a feeling she knew what was about to happen. She jerked her chin toward the truck, which was backing up to the loading ramp. “That for us?”
“Damn straight.” Leo reached for his door handle. “Come on.”
Royal climbed out of the car and followed Leo to the back of the truck where a short, pudgy guy in coveralls was unlocking the rear door. He looked up as they approached, first with a friendly smile then a confused look, likely on account of the fact he wasn’t expecting to encounter people in tuxes at one of his regular stops.
“You need something?” he asked.
Leo yanked a gun from his jacket and pointed it at the truck driver. “A few things. How about you step down and have a seat over there.” He pointed with his free hand toward the steps that led to the back door of the warehouse. The driver raised his hands in the air and shook his head in disgust. As he walked over to the stairs, four guys stepped out of the Suburban and headed their way. The one in the lead pointed at Royal. “Who’s this?”
“Don’t worry your pretty head about things that don’t concern you,” Leo said. He reached into his jacket, pulled out another gun, and handed it to Royal. “You want to watch the driver or the truck?”
Royal reached for the gun, checked the clip, and gestured at the truck. “Like I want to babysit some nobody.” She walked toward the open door and motioned for the other guys to follow her. “Let’s go.”
Careful to keep her tux from catching on anything, she climbed into the back of the truck and glanced around. The rear was stocked with cases of top shelf liquor. She quickly assessed how much they’d need for a three-hundred-person wedding reception and called out orders to the guys from the Suburban, who loaded her selections into the back of their vehicle. When they were done, she jumped down and walked back over to Leo, who was needling the driver about how easy it had been to heist his load.
“We need to go,” she said.
“What’s the matter?” Leo said. “You scared of getting caught?”
Royal grunted out a laugh. “Not hardly. I’m scared of getting fired.” She pointed to her watch. “Reception starts in three hours and I need to be there to oversee the setup. Thirsty guests and no booze? Not going to happen on my watch. Come on.”
Leo reached into the truck driver’s coveralls and found his phone. He took the SIM card out, tossed it to the ground, and crushed it with his heel. He grabbed the guy by the collar. “You showed up to unload and left the truck to take a piss. When you came back, cases were missing. You didn’t see or hear anything. Right?”
The guy’s eyes widened, and he nodded slowly.
“Good,” Leo said. “There’s still plenty in there. You should go ahead and skim a little while you can.”
A few minutes later, Royal and Leo were back in the car with the Suburban right behind them. Leo, obviously hopped up after the heist, playfully punched Royal on the arm. “We got some good shit, didn’t we?”
“Top shelf,” Royal said, injecting her voice with fake enthusiasm she doubted he would notice. “You always get this excited about a job?”
“This wasn’t a job. It was a mission. We just snagged the best booze for the boss’s daughter’s wedding. Kind of a great gift, if you ask me.”
She nodded. “Hadn’t thought about it that way. Here, I thought you were testing me out.”
Leo grinned. “Yeah, well, that too.”
She didn’t ask if she’d passed since she knew the answer. She encountered folks way scarier than this kid in her long career. If this was
the biggest challenge she’d have to face on this job, she’d be very lucky. She only hoped that the close call on the last case hadn’t used up all her luck.
Chapter Seven
Siobhan handed the keys to her Porsche to the valet and walked into the church. She’d ducked Neal’s attempts to escort her to the wedding with the excuse that she didn’t need a driver or a bodyguard while in the company of the entire Mancuso clan, but she had a feeling she’d be lurking somewhere at the wedding reception in order to keep an eye on her, and because everyone who had any reason to be in the Mancuso orbit today was taking advantage of the opportunity to be part of the grand event.
She was early, but the church was already crowded, and she was relieved to know there would be a seat waiting for her at the front of the sanctuary, and she headed that way.
“Siobhan, can I talk to you for a moment?”
She turned to see the oldest son of the Vedda family standing a few feet away. She hadn’t seen Martin in years. It might have been since they were freshmen in college. “Hello. It’s good to see you,” she said to fill the space.
He smiled. “It’s been a long time. I figured you’d be here, but I thought you’d be in the wedding party.”
It wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned they’d expected Celia to ask her to have a role in the wedding, but people didn’t understand that being raised together and having Carlo Mancuso treat her like a daughter didn’t make her an instant sister to Celia and Dominique. Her situation was much more complicated, which was why she was perfectly happy to have a non-matching dress and sit on the sidelines for this charade. If she wanted to make bank off this show, she would’ve bet against it and raked in. Celia’s new husband struck her as the kind of guy who thought he was going to profit from this union—not a very auspicious start. “I have other obligations today,” she said. “There will be a lot of people who will want to take advantage of the don’s happiness today.”
