by Ali Vali
* * *
“Did you leave?” Reed asked Oscar later that afternoon. She’d gone home and found Brinley poring over the ledgers and other information she’d gotten from Jasper, and she was getting the full picture of what Robert Wallace was up to. She put her Earwig in to keep her hands free and gathered what she needed for her afternoon.
“You know I’m not going anywhere, if you’re out there trying to do something you probably don’t want to.” He’d been with her for years, but he still had the ability to amaze her. “I’m not abandoning you.”
“I thought about it today, and I don’t think we have a choice in this contract. To save what we have, I’m going to have to take this job.” She’d taken every precaution and worn a wig and used some other tricks to hide her identity, then drove to the location where Benito’s family was hosting a gathering for their family and friends after London’s funeral, since his house was too small.
“Where are you?”
“I’m on my way over to the banquet hall on Sahara. That’s where Terzo’s directions said he wanted it done. It’s cold, but he wants Benito offed surrounded by family at his granddaughter’s funeral.” She parked a block away and took the small bag she’d brought with her holding the rifle. This had to be done fast, so she could get out of such a busy area with as little problem as possible.
“Wait for me,” Oscar said, and she could tell he was driving. She was glad she called since he might’ve been on his way to her house. “I may not know how to shoot, but I can watch out for you.”
“The job doesn’t need any of your special talents, Oscar, so head home.”
“Dammit, wait for me.”
“Are you close?” She walked as if she was on her way somewhere. It was the easiest way for people to forget you—if you appeared to know where you were going. “I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Give me ten minutes and I can spot you.”
The building across from where Benito supposedly would be was high enough, so she headed to the back in search of the fire escape. “I’m on my way up.”
The sudden searing pain in her side was enough to knock her flat.
“Oscar,” she said breathlessly. “Hurry.” A few more shots pinged into the metal and concrete around her and she started moving, her pulse hammering in her head and the world around her narrowing to nothing more than this moment.
With the last of her energy she rolled behind a dumpster and took the pistol out of her holster. The shots had to have come from one of the buildings in the next block, but there was no way to pinpoint where the shooter was.
“Where are you?” Oscar asked.
“I’m in back of the building on the corner, behind the red dumpster, but make sure you stay low, and come in from the east.” She sat with her gun in one hand and her other over the hole in her left side. From the pain and the growing wet spot along her back, the only good thing was the bullet had traveled completely through, and she hoped it had missed anything important. She waited, counting breaths and willing the pain to ease from scorching to throbbing. The shots had stopped, but she knew they were just waiting for her to move.
“Get in!” Oscar screeched to a stop close to where she was hiding. The windows shattered under the barrage of gunfire, and she dragged herself into the back seat.
“Go, but turn left at the corner and hug the side of the building. Stop in a shadow, if you can.”
“We need to get you to help.” Oscar sounded close to hyperventilating.
“Stop, Oscar, I mean it.” She sat up a little and took a deep breath. This wasn’t the time to pass out.
“What are you doing?” Oscar’s voice went up another octave when she opened the door.
“I’m getting out of here without a tail that we’ll never shake, and no one shoots me without paying some kind of penalty.” She was sweating, but she got out and pressed herself to the building. Whoever was up there was probably waiting for them to drive by so they could take another shot. Once the shooter figured out they weren’t going to drive by, they’d have to come down. “Wait here,” she said, wiping her face on her sleeve.
It took about four minutes, but she finally saw someone coming down, facing the building as they clung to the stairs. The alley was empty, and she waited until he was halfway down before she set herself, then fired. If she hadn’t been injured, she wouldn’t have aimed to kill, and she’d have talked to the guy to find out why he was trying to kill her, but she couldn’t take any chances. The guy fell, but he got caught in the ladder and was hanging upside down, very much dead with his automatic weapon hanging from his neck.
“Get back in,” Oscar said loudly.
“We need to erase all traces of me before we go anywhere,” she said as the pain intensified and she fell into the back seat. “And we need to see who that asshole was. It’s obvious he isn’t a pro, since he shoots for shit, but he was here to kill me.”
Oscar quickly took care of the droplets and smears of blood she’d left behind with the kit they kept in their cars for just this purpose. When she’d decided on this life, she’d done everything she could to learn how not to ever have the spotlight shine on her. Oscar zoomed in on the guy’s face and took a picture before he drove back to where she’d been shot and got rid of that blood as well. The spot was secluded, but they couldn’t take any chances that the cops were on their way.
“Who is it?” Blood oozed through her fingers as she tried to slow the bleeding.
“I can’t be sure, but I think it’s Paolo Moretti. This was nothing but a double-cross, and the stupidest move they could’ve made. He must have sent the text as Terzo to get you out in the open. And when the police found your phone with the message, Terzo would go down. The Morettis would be in the clear.” Oscar pounded on the seat next to him.
“Oscar, take me home,” she said softly. Her vision was starting to dim, and she tried to hang on. “But before we get there, I have to tell you something.”
“Stay quiet and save your strength.”
“Listen,” she said, and groaned when he turned onto the interstate. “Brinley Myers and her son aren’t dead.”
“What?” Oscar looked at her in the rearview mirror, his eyes wide.
“I couldn’t kill that woman and leave that kid alone. Don’t be angry, but I couldn’t do it after what happened to us.” Fuck. She couldn’t protect Brinley if she was dead. She’d break the promise she’d made her. The pain combined with frustration, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“My place. Make sure she’s okay.” Confession time was over, and the pain stopped as the world disappeared.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brinley sat with a fresh cup of coffee and glanced in the den to watch Finn play with his new trucks. Reed couldn’t have found something better for her son, since he loved anything that rolled. She heard the garage door engage and got up and took another mug out of the cabinet to pour Reed some coffee. Hopefully she’d enjoy the meal she’d prepared with the groceries Reed had shopped for. She couldn’t be sure, but Reed hadn’t seemed like she wanted to leave a few hours ago, and the meal was her way of saying thanks for what Reed had done for them so far.
“Hey,” she said when the door opened. She dropped the full cup when she saw the smallish man whose shirtfront was covered in blood. “Who are you?” There was no way this was Reed in another disguise.
“Oscar,” the man said, and his voice was soft and almost feminine. “And you need to help me.” He motioned her toward the garage.
She gasped when she saw Reed sprawled across the back seat in a pool of blood. It still seemed to be oozing from under her shirt, and Reed was motionless. “What happened?” Oscar didn’t stop her when she crawled in and touched Reed’s face. It was sweaty but cold.
“Some asshole shot her and we need to get her inside. I’ve got someone I can call, but he can’t work in the car.” Oscar pulled on Reed’s legs and got her almost to the point whe
re she’d fall on the floor. “Can you get her shoulders?” He pulled a little more.
It was a struggle, but they were able to get her in the house and onto the kitchen counter. Even with all the jostling, Reed never woke up or made a sound. Brinley pressed her fingers to her throat and Reed’s pulse was barely there. “Who are you calling?” she asked, stopping Finn from coming in and walking through the trail of blood they’d made.
“There’s a guy who takes care of things like this,” Oscar said, taking his phone out. “She’s not going to like anyone coming over here, but we’ve got no choice.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t take her to the hospital?” They worked together, pressing kitchen towels to Reed’s back and front. “She’s barely alive.”
“The last thing we need to do is go somewhere she’ll have to explain the gunshot wound to the police. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope your guy hurries. She has to be okay.” They stood together in silence until the doorbell rang. Her last chance at freedom or a life without looking over her shoulder was bleeding to death on the granite countertop. Up to now she’d feared Reed, mostly, but if Reed getting shot had anything to do with her and Finn, it meant she’d been willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. Of course, with the kind of life Reed led, the situation might have had nothing to do with Brinley at all. That released another bout of fear, but this time it centered on Reed and how she couldn’t lose her.
“You need to go upstairs and take the kid with you. I don’t want this guy seeing you.” Oscar washed his hands and shooed her out of the kitchen. “As soon as he’s done, I’ll come up and get you.”
“Please tell him to do whatever it takes to save her.” She pressed her palm to Reed’s cheek and begged whatever higher power was listening to make her okay.
“Go.” Oscar waited until she’d picked up the kid and made it up the stairs, but she watched from the shadows as a young guy in scrubs with the name of a vet practice embroidered on the front came in and immediately moved to Reed and started working.
Brinley peered down at them. Oscar caught her watching and waved her back into the bedroom, but she just moved deeper into the shadows. There was no way she was going to wait in another room. It took over an hour, but the medic got the bleeding stopped and put in stitches.
“She’s going to have to rest for at least a week, since she lost a shitload of blood. Make sure you change the bags of fluids when they run out, and use the whole box I left you. When she wakes up, start giving her these.” He handed over a bottle of antibiotics.
“Let me go upstairs and get her bed ready. Stick around because you’re going to have to help me carry her up there,” Oscar said, running up and herding Brinley and Finn into the other bedroom. “Make sure the kid stays quiet until I pay and get rid of this guy.”
“Is she still alive?” Brinley had never felt so lost.
“It’ll take the both of us to take care of her, but she’ll be okay. Don’t worry, Reed’s been a fighter from the day she was born.” He went downstairs and Brinley moved to the shadows at the top of the stairs again so she could listen.
“Be really careful moving her. I don’t want those stitches popping,” the guy said. “You take her feet, and once she’s settled, just remember to change her bandages at least twice a day. I left you enough stuff to get you through the week.”
“You’ll forget this address, right?”
“My business is all about discretion, so don’t worry about it.”
“This one might make the news, and if you give her up, I promise you the money you make today won’t get you very far,” Oscar said.
“That’s the reason for the discretion, man. I’m still alive because I don’t talk about my clients.” The medic took his fat envelope and left with another warning from Oscar.
Brinley went back to Reed’s room and watched her shallow breathing. This was what life with someone like Reed was like. This was what you could expect. So why did her heart ache? Why did she want to cry, and rage, and do whatever she could to wake her up? She moved to the head of the bed and gently lifted Reed’s head onto her lap. “What happened?” Brinley said to Oscar when he came back in, not letting Reed go.
“Our job snowballed and we ended up here,” he said, sitting on the other side of the bed and giving Finn a small smile when he ran his truck up Oscar’s shin. “She told me to take care of you.”
“The world’s become a crazy place,” Brinley said, glancing up at him. “Please don’t turn us over to the people who want to kill us.”
“I do that, and that medic who fixed her up wouldn’t have enough to patch up once she was done with me. We’ll be fine, and now you can tell me why you’re here.”
“I’m an accountant and I was too good at my job.” That was the simple truth, but it felt like the weight of the world sat in those too-easy, vague words.
Oscar laughed. “That’s a start.”
* * *
Sofia smiled as one of the older men in from New York spoke to her about Victor and what a great time he’d shown him and his family when they were last in town. The people lingering after the funeral were starting to get on her nerves, but her father said they had to keep up the facade until Paolo came back. Hopefully her brother was searching the house of the asshole holding her money.
“Do you think you won?” Pietro asked as he stood right behind her.
“Won what, exactly?” She didn’t turn around, tired of both her sons’ childish behavior. She’d given birth to them but obviously hadn’t bothered to teach them respect.
“He’s dead and you think you’re keeping everything.” Pietro laughed. “There isn’t anything left and you’re going to end up with nothing. He was leaving you—I hope you know that.”
“What exactly did I do that you hate me so much?”
“You made Dad miserable. He told us about all the shit you pulled.”
“I get it, you hate me for demanding he not cheat, that he respect me. Your father was good at spinning stories, but you’re right, he’s gone. My last favor to him was the service today, and now I’m done.” She put her drink down and faced her eldest son. “You can carry on his name, and his legacy, while you have fun with your grandfather. I’m not going to force you to live with me.”
“You’re dropping us too?” Gabriel asked, and Sofia had no problem hearing the sarcasm.
“I’m not the one who dropped anyone, and you two have made your intentions clear. If you’re waiting for me to beg, then you haven’t paid attention to who I am,” she said and smiled at her father. “That you think I’d tolerate what your father was dishing out makes me laugh. I’m your mother, but I’m not willing to put up with that kind of treatment from you, either.”
“He spent it all, so at least he had a great time while he was here,” Pietro said. “You got to respect him for that.”
“True, he’s left us all with nothing, but it’s where we end up that matters, isn’t it? All I wanted was to be a family, and it’s not too late for that. If you two can learn to accept there are two sides to every story, you’ll have a place with me and your grandfather.” She pointed toward Diego, and he peered at her as if asking if she needed rescuing, so she shook her head. “He’ll give you a place and teach you some manners.”
“We’ll see, Mother dearest,” Pietro said and stared at the door as the police detectives came in. “It could be that we’ll visit you in a better place.”
“Pietro, you’re still too young to be this cynical. If you don’t know what that means, look it up,” she said and moved to the door. “Officers, what do you want?”
“Can we see you and your father somewhere more private?” Andrew Wamsley asked.
“It can’t wait? I have a houseful of people here to celebrate my husband’s life. The day’s been hard enough without you adding to it.” She saw her father heading toward her, dragging Ezra along with him. The detective tilted his head but didn’t respond. “You’re not leavin
g, so let’s go into the office, but make this fast.”
“Is it true she killed our father?” Pietro asked the detective and smiled at Sofia. “We can help with that, if you need us to.”
“Not now,” Diego said as he led the cops away and slammed the door on the boys when they tried to join them.
“Sir, we really don’t want to intrude, but we wanted to come and talk to you about your son,” Wamsley said.
“What about my son?” Diego said with an edge in his voice.
“He was found an hour ago,” Wamsley said and placed his hand on Diego’s arm when he grasped the desk.
“Found, what do you mean found?” Diego said, not shaking the cop off.
“He was killed, Mr. Moretti,” Wamsley said.
“What?” Sofia whispered, her legs nearly going out from under her. “How is that possible?”
“He was found hanging from a fire escape a block off Sahara. Someone shot him through the head, his gun’s clip had only three bullets remaining, and we found an empty clip in his coat pocket. We found shell casings on the roof of the building where he was found, which means he was shooting at someone,” the younger cop said.
She couldn’t remember his name, and more than anything she wanted to hit him until he stopped talking.
“Does either of you have any idea what he was doing there?”
“No,” Diego said, choking out the word as sobs racked his body. It was the first time she’d seen her father cry like he’d never stop. “He left and said he had to run an errand.”
“There were no witnesses, but Benito Lucassi’s family was having the service for his granddaughter a block over. Are you sure he wasn’t there meeting with anyone who would’ve been attending that?”
“Are you some kind of dick?” Ezra asked. “You tell them Paolo’s dead and you’re asking stupid questions. This family is already grieving.”
“Understand that we take every case seriously, sir, and we’re looking for a place to start,” Wamsley said. “The timing could have been better, but I didn’t think the family wanted to wait to find out.”
