by L. A. Fiore
“Not that we were. We haven’t been happy for a long time.”
I tried to bite my tongue, but I just couldn’t. “Spare us the bullshit. Greed got you here, and instead of manning up and handling it, you sold your daughter. You ruined her life, you took away her dreams, you made her beholden, to not just an animal like Jason, but also Enzi, and you did all of it for fucking money. Your daughter’s death is on your hands, and you can try to wash that shit away with your excuses, but you did this to her. The two people who should have protected her were the ones who sacrificed her. You won’t get an ounce of pity or empathy from me. And, in fact, if I could try you in a court of law for being the worst parents ever, I fucking would.” I stood, shoved my chair into the table and headed for the door. “I’m done here.”
I stepped outside, leaned back against the wall, dropped my hands on my knees and tried to pull the fury in, but all I saw was that innocent girl who had been betrayed by the people who should have loved her the most.
Zac joined me a few minutes later. “You okay?”
“They’re disgusting.”
“Yeah, they are. I’m going to call Vin. He’s going to want to pepper them with questions.”
“Okay.”
He touched my arm. “That had to have felt good.”
My gaze collided with his. “It did.”
“Let’s go fill in the captain,” Zac said, and started down the hall. I fell into step with him. “Terence Baker. He gets the ball rolling with the Katrina Dent shit, and then thirty-one years later, befriends Samantha James and encourages her to interview for a job with Wakefield. Why?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Why stir up the past when it was at rest?”
“Good question.” He reached for his cell, pulled up a number. “Yeah, Vin, meet us in Darling’s office. We got something for you.”
Vin was pacing Cap’s office. “They actually pointed the finger at him?”
“Yeah, figured you’d want to get in there and ask some of your own questions,” Zac said.
“Hell, yeah.” He stopped pacing. “It might be a good idea for you to put your investigation on hold for a few days. This kind of rattling could lead to an all-out battle within the Enzi family or another family, seeing the weakness and making a move to takeover.”
“That’s a good idea,” Captain said, then turned to Zac. “What did you learn from the coroner in Los Angeles?”
“He purposely withheld the pregnancy from the autopsy report for the sake of the baby. With the media circus around her death, and his own reservations about what really happened to Katrina, he felt including the discovery of the baby might be signing the baby’s death warrant.”
Cap pulled a hand through his hair. “Well, with how this is all shaking out, it looks like he wasn’t wrong about that. I’ve got the team working on aging the sketch. Not that I’m particularly hopeful, because if Jason Benjamin was so determined to stay hidden, he most likely got plastic surgery.”
“We have a theory on Jason,” I said. “We know it’s a little out there but…”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Jason creates Katrina, acts as her agent in all matters, but brings in Milton Teller, as her official public relations representative. People know of him, but no one has worked with him in person.”
Cap caught on. “You think Jason is Milton Teller?”
“He is in the wind now. It’s a possibility,” Zac said.
“Jesus, this case,” Cap said. “Okay, look into Teller. If Jason is as good as we think, he’s probably covered all his bases, but dig deep and see if something about Milton doesn’t pan out. And we’ll get the composite and compare it, though I doubt it will help.”
“We can look into plastic surgeons, at the time, and surgeries to see if we can find something. Even just asking a plastic surgeon to compare Milton and Jason’s photos to see if it’s even possible they’re one in the same,” Zac said then turned to Vin. “We could use some of your expertise.”
“Shoot.”
“You know Terence Baker?”
“Yeah, he’s pretty high up in the Enzi organization.”
“So, he’s still in the family?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so based on the Dents’ confession, Terence Baker was the one who got the whole ball rolling with Katrina Dent, allegedly at the order of Enzi senior. It was also Terence who encouraged Samantha to interview for the position at Wakefield’s and we’d bet money, Frank Harris, one of our victims, learned of Samantha from an anonymous tip from Baker. It isn’t likely if Jason is Teller that he would have stirred up the past because it exposes him. So why the fuck is Baker stirring up something that was already buried?”
We all recognized the look that entered Vin’s eyes, a cop on the verge of breaking a case wide open. “Because it’s a coup,” he said, pacing at the back of the room. “There’s been bad blood between the father and son for years. The old man is old; the son is ready to take over. I would bet money it was the son who ordered Terence to stir it up. Create the weakness, the unrest, and use that to take his father’s place. Using Wakefield was smart because of his connection to Carmine DeLuca. DeLuca is a hothead, but he’s also dangerous. Coming at Wakefield would set him off, and there’s no love between DeLuca and Enzi senior.”
“So the son stirs up the ghosts of the past and incites DeLuca to take out his father, so he can step into his place,” Cap summarized.
“Yeah.”
“Alright, Vin will take point with the Dents. We’ll ride the desk for a few days, until things cool off,” Cap added.
“If we’re riding the desk, I think I’d like to take those days,” I said.
“Another vacation?” Zac teased.
“Why not,” Captain said, “Not much for us to do until vice gets a lockdown on this shit.”
“Thanks, Cap.”
“Enjoy if for me, too.”
Before I could reply, Zac brought the conversation back when he said, “I want to know who’s cleaning up the shit Enzi stirred up.”
A look went around the room before I said, “That’s the million dollar question.”
I was crossing a line, but if Vin was right, DeLuca was being setup, and as Kade’s friend, I had to at least warn him. I went to see Kade, but he was in a meeting. Penelope showed me into his office. I stood by the windows and looked out at the city, but my thoughts were on the case and how there seemed to be multiple agendas. It wasn’t a wonder we were having so much trouble nailing it down.
The door opened, voices followed. I turned, just as Kade glanced over, then took a double take. I knew what flashed through his head when his focus shifted to his desk. I felt the heat creep up my neck.
“We need to reschedule. See Penelope. She’ll get you on my calendar.” He didn’t wait, opening the door then closing and locking it. He leaned back against it, pushed his hands into his pockets and asked, “Is it Friday?”
Despite what brought me here, now I was thinking about sex on his desk. “I have a new bucket list item.”
He didn’t move when he said, “I’ll be sure to help you scratch that off and soon, but for now, tell me what’s put that shadow behind your eyes?”
“We met with the Dents today.”
Understanding swept his expression.
“They confessed to all of it. Being in debt, the plan, they even fingered Gregory Enzi senior.”
I saw the sharpness behind his eyes. “They did?”
I crossed the room to him. “They also told us their loan shark’s name was Terence Baker. We found his name in Samantha’s things, confirmed with her parents that he was the one who recommended she interview for your public relations department.” This was exactly what Kade had warned would happen, us finding ourselves on different sides of the law. “Enzi ordered Katrina’s death, according to h
er parents. A job carried out by Jason before he disappeared. Enzi was also the one to pay off the Dents to keep them quiet. I was having trouble understanding why Terence would have stirred the shit up with Samantha when the blowback would be on the very man he worked for. Vin, from vice, filled us in.”
Silence followed.
“Enzi junior wants to take over, so he’s blowing shit up, so he can step through the rubble and take his father’s place. Vin believes you were targeted to set off your hothead friend, to incite him to take out Enzi senior.”
Kade had no reaction.
“If Vin is right, Carmine is being setup.”
The silence grew heavy before Kade finally spoke. “And you’re here to warn him.”
“Yes.”
The air was knocked from my lungs when he lifted me off the floor and crossed the room. With one hand, he swiped shit off his desk, before my back hit it, and in a few breathless seconds, my boots, pants and panties hit the floor. He undid his pants and pulled his cock free. He fisted my hair, slammed his mouth on mine, as his rammed his cock into me. His arm locked around my waist, as he moved hard and fast, almost brutally, between my legs. It was fucking magnificent.
I came hard; he swallowed my scream. He came right after me, his groan rumbled up his throat and worked its way down mine. I locked my legs around his waist, my hand covering his that was still twisted in my hair. Turbulent eyes looked down at me. “I fucking love you,” he whispered.
I let those words sink in and settle comfortably in my chest. “I fucking love you.”
He looked down our bodies, his expression turning primal. “I need a painting of you like this,” he whispered. Hungry eyes lifted to mine. “I want to undress you, splay you on my desk and fucking feast.” His cock was still inside me, so I felt how much he wanted to do just as he claimed.
“You need to warn Carmine,” I said softly.
He moved his hips, and I moaned.
“We’re coming back to this.”
“Yes, we are.” I dragged my thumb over his lip; he bit it and my pussy convulsed. He moaned. “We’re taking a step back on the case, so Montenegro is an option,” I offered.
“Done,” he said.
“Just like that, no checking your schedule?”
“Yeah, just like that.”
“If you don’t…” I looked down at where we were connected, “pull out in the next second, I’m not going to let you.”
He grinned, leaned closer and whispered, “I’d really like to see you try.”
Sixteen
Kade met Carmine at Polar. It was lunchtime, but the jazz section was packed. Kade moved through the crowd to his office in the back. Carmine was already waiting, sitting behind his desk, with his feet up on it.
“Comfortable?” Kade asked, closing the door behind him.
“I am. I could really get used to this,” he said. “You’ve got a few waitresses out there that I really need to try out.” The look Kade gave him had him chuckling, as he stood. “I know, off limits. So what’s up?”
“I stay out of your shit, but when that shit affects my shit. What’s going on with Enzi?”
Humor dropped from Carmine’s face. “What’s happened?”
“Molly came to see me. They have people in custody who are pointing the finger at Enzi senior, as the one who ordered Katrina Dent’s death.”
“Wait a minute, take a step back. Who the fuck is Katrina Dent?”
“She was a movie star back in the eighties. Died, it was ruled suicide, but the death of the girl in the park, the two others, suggested that her death might have been murder. As it turns out, it was allegedly ordered by Enzi senior.”
“Well, shit,” Carmine said, and pulled a hand through his hair.
“Terence Baker, you know him?”
“Yeah, he’s a asshole.”
“He had a hand in Katrina’s downfall, and he also played a role in Samantha James’ death.”
Carmine caught on immediately. “It’s a coup.”
“And from where the NYPD is standing, I was implicated to incite you.”
“So I’d take out the old man.”
“Exactly.”
“I fucking can’t stand Enzi senior, but you know his son is like a father to me.”
“I know, but if this is all true, it’s the son who stirred the shit up.”
Carmine crossed the room, poured himself some whiskey and drank it down. “Your detective told you all of this?”
“Yeah, wanted to warn you.”
Carmine leaned back against the sideboard. “She broke protocol to help a known crime boss.” He shared something they both knew.
“Yeah, she did, so that blowing back on her isn’t fucking acceptable.”
Carmine’s eyes went hard. “Got few who I count on, I know how to take care of those I do. Being yours, she was already on that list. Today, she earned a place on her own.” Carmine put the glass down, before returning his stare on Kade. “Enzi is one, too. He took me in, he gave me legitimate work, didn’t make me one of his henchmen. He’s not his father.”
“No, he’s not, but he takes out his father, NYPD is going to be looking at you.”
“Yeah. I’m okay with that because they won’t find anything to link me to his death, and if it takes the heat off Gregory, so be it.”
“Keep in mind the man he’s looking to overthrow. He might be old, but he’s ruthless, and he won’t go down without a fight.”
“I know, and that’s why I need to talk to Gregory. He’s hated his father for most of his life, but the old man is one foot in the grave.” Carmine looked incredulous. “So why is he doing this shit now?”
Carmine drove to Brooklyn Heights. He didn’t need an appointment, family never did. He strolled through the elegantly appointed townhouse to the back veranda, where Gregory preferred spending his time. He never understood the gardens because Gregory wasn’t a flower kind of man, but his gardens were always perfectly tended and bursting with color.
The man himself was sitting on the patio, a glass of wine next to him, his focus on the horizon.
“What brings you here today, Carmine?”
Carmine joined him at the table and noticed he was holding something, but his focus shifted to the man. “Got a heads up.”
Gregory exhaled and looked tired, older than his fifty-nine years. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
Carmine sat up because that was not a question he’d expect from the man he knew. “What’s going on?”
Gregory shook his head and instead asked, “What brings you?”
“The cops are putting the pieces together.”
Gregory reached for his wine. “Let me guess, I’m looking to take over so am creating an environment that makes it possible.”
“Something like that.”
“I’m not the one stirring it up. He is.”
Carmine didn’t hide his surprise. “Why?”
“Because he’s dying and he can. Because he’s belligerent and vindictive.”
“I need more, Gregory. My boy’s girl is right in the middle of this shit.”
“I heard about that. She’s the one looking into Katrina Dent’s death.” Gregory said, took a sip of wine. “She’s close to figuring it out, too, from what I hear.”
“What doesn’t she know?” Carmine asked.
Gregory put his glass down, stood. Even at fifty-nine, he could turn women’s heads, with his dark blue eyes and tall muscled build. “Walk with me.”
Carmine fell into step at his side.
“My father wanted in on the Hollywood scene, and so he found the perfect way in, a young, beautiful woman who held that magical appeal like a modern version of Marilyn Monroe. She was often compared to her. I remember the first time I saw her. I was twenty-two, a year older than she was, but she see
med so much younger. She had hope then, still had an idealistic view of the world. He sent me to keep an eye on his project. I hadn’t meant to fall in love, but I did.”
Carmine stopped walking; Gregory looked back at him. “Yes, Katrina and I were lovers. From almost the minute she was unveiled. She hated it, but she knew her parents were in a bind. And she was the kind of woman who would do for others, much like your friend’s girl, putting her neck out to help known criminals.” He opened his palm to reveal the small gold coin. “She gave me this. Her marker,” he said and smiled. “Her promise that her future belonged to me and mine to her.” The smile fell from his lips. “She got pregnant. I was taking her away, to hell with my father and the fact that I’d be putting a target on both of our backs. The woman I loved was carrying my child. But my father had friends everywhere. He found out, beat me to an inch of my life and took her baby. She went through that alone because I couldn’t get to her. She lost her baby and me. And still she tried to do for others, but her heart wasn’t in it anymore. She wasn’t Katrina Dent, the superstar. He broke her. I broke her. But it still wasn’t enough for my father. She was an asset, one that wasn’t turning enough of a profit, one that would be more valuable dead, so he had her killed.”
Gregory fisted his hands, his face going hard. “I tried to find Jason to repay the kindness, but he always was a weasel, had an uncanny ability of shifting to be whatever was needed of him. I never did find him, and I fucking looked.”
“And the baby?”
“A son.” Pride filled his voice. He gestured to the gardens. “These are for her. She always wanted gardens, a family. And I wanted her.”
“Where’s your son?”
“Hiding in plain sight,” Gregory said. “And don’t ask me who because I won’t tell you. But that’s what this is all about. I’m not the one stirring it up. My father is. Because it isn’t enough to have killed the woman I loved, to keep me from my son, to take away my happy, he needs to take out my son, too. That won’t happen.” His expression was hard but determined. “I’m protecting what’s mine. I couldn’t do it for Katrina, but I will for our child.”
