“How much do you know about his business?”
I rub a thumb over my temple, but it doesn’t alleviate the headache. “I helped out on occasion. His dad passed the restaurants down to him. They played up the whole family run part. It was expected I help out on occasion. I’d interview wait staff, waitress when needed.”
Ridge hardens, his hands falling to fists at his knees. “Oh his daddy passed down the family business, all right. Tony Fanelli was the largest drug runner on the West side of Oklahoma. Those family restaurants are his fonts. Everything went to Mario when his father was shot in a gang retaliation hit four years ago.”
My gasp sucks the air from the room and I replay each word, but it can’t be right. “No.” I lived with Mario for four years. There were never drugs. A small liquor store in the kitchen, sure, but not drugs.
“How do you think his old man died?” He stares at me not flinching.
“It was right before I met Mario. His dad ran to the grocery store late one night to pick something up and died in a robbery gone wrong.”
Ridge shakes his head. “Tony Fanelli was not shot in a robbery. It was a hit. The owner of the grocery story was fifty thousand behind in payments and Tony went to help speed him up. The shooter took out Tony and one of his lower level lackeys — a young kid — barely nineteen. Police suspected an arranged hit by an out of town competitor or Karson Kane, another prominent kingpin in the area. Kane leads the gambling racket. He enjoyed a truce with Tony, but police suspect he decided to expand his territory. Since he made no move against Mario in the years since the assassination, they’ve begun investigating other areas.”
“What do you mean made a move?” I’ve met Karson Kane. Not often, but he and Mario would eat dinner together once or twice a year.
“Tried to kill him.” His words are ice, chilling the surrounding air. “Mario stepped up as leader of his father’s gang quickly after his death, but it was bloody.”
Nothing coming from Ridge’s mouth makes sense. My tears slow from the shock, but my body shakes as everything I thought I’d known the last four years comes crashing down around me. A pile of bricks right in the middle of Ridge’s soft expensive off white carpet.
Sure, Mario wasn’t a great guy. He had a temper and made horrible insults when angry, but drugs? Murder? This is so much worse.
My head refuses to believe while Mario took me out on dates early in our relationship his other business was “bloody.” I would have noticed.
He would have given himself away, eventually. Come home with bloody clothes or eight heads in a duffle bag. That’s how the mob does it, right? The mob in freaking Oklahoma. The thought alone is crazy.
“You really don’t know, do you?” Ridge asks standing up and pacing the room again.
I watch his boots as he circles. “No. I met Mario in his restaurant. He was wearing a gold watch and loafers.” Not a machine gun and fedora.
Ridge walks out of the room and at first I try to stand and follow him, but there’s no strength in my legs to get me anywhere. Instead I count the individual pieces of carpet and wait for him to come back and kick me out.
When he returns, he carries a thick manila folder. He tosses it on the couch beside me. I reach for it before it falls, but pieces of paper and pictures fly out falling on the leather cushion and floor.
I gag when my eyes make out the individual images. The first few I pick up show dead bodies. One is slumped over in a chair, a bullet to the center of his forehead, his dark suit jacket open, a red soaked white shirt beneath. The picture under it is another person, a man by the short haircut and similar dark suit. He’s face down in an alley, a large industrial dumpster next to his body. Why would Ridge show me these?
“Mario’s handiwork. Well, police suspect the work of his right-hand man. Benny Romano.”
I toss the pictures away from me only more horrified by the ones below them.
Pictures of me.
I slide a finger over the first glossy shot and pick them up one by one, examining the images. There’s me walking into our large house after a morning run. Another getting out of my car at the grocery store. At the salon getting my hair done. Waitressing at the restaurant during the holiday season when staff were forced to wear ugly green shirts with poinsettias embroidered into them. Mario’s mom picked them out. No one ever said no to Mama Fanelli. Does she know who her husband was? Who her son is?
“Why am I in here?” I ask while I collect the pictures with me in them. Has he been following me? How? We met this month and I’m the one who moved to Pelican Bay. How could Ridge have pictures from December? Why would he?
My brain flounders to create an explanation. It’s working overtime, but I’m still processing my meeting with Benny. I can’t add this new information in without a meltdown.
“You’ve been on police radar for a long time, Tabitha. They’ve never been sure how much you knew or how active you were in running the operation.”
There’s more silence as I inspect each picture. On a few of them I remember the exact dates the pictures were taken. I’d worn the yellow Tommy Hilfiger dress once — to Easter dinner with Mario’s mom last year. Other pictures are lost in a sea of trivial days where one runs into the next.
Days I lived out my calm and peaceful life… with the city’s drug lord.
“I’ve started to believe you didn’t know. You’re not this good of an actress. What I can’t figure out is, if you don’t have the diamonds, why is Mario sure you do?” Ridge approaches the couch slowly like he’s afraid I’ll lose my shit at any moment.
It’s a smart move. I might. He reaches into the folder and pulls out another picture, this one larger than the rest.
He flips it over and I cringe — Lotti. The girl Mario cheated on me with for the last year. Probably longer. Obviously I’ve been blind to a lot of shit in my past.
“Three days after you left, Lotti James, moved into the house on Delaware Street.”
I balk but don’t comment. I wouldn’t expect less from Mario. Besides, my mind’s still trying to place what day and time each picture was taken, my own little sick game to avoid this conversation.
“Mario’s maintained a calm demeanor at home, but we both know where Benny’s been the last week. What do you have on him, Tabitha?”
“I already told you.” Although maybe he couldn’t make it out during my crying. “A USB.”
“What?” Ridge picks up the pictures, shoving each one back in the folder.
I hand him the three in my hand. “Before I left, I copied files on to a USB. I thought it would be my protection if he ever came after me. Obviously it didn’t work.” I haven’t even told Benny about the USB. I’m too afraid of what he’d do if I told him I had the files. He doesn’t need more reasons to kill me. I can only die once.
“Why?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. He’d been weird the last few months. Always yelling on his phone late at night about the accounts being off. I thought maybe he had problems with the business. It was a long shot, but I copied his business files, planning to go through them later, but I haven’t had time to buy a laptop.”
“Anything else? How much money did you bring with you?” his voice has softened from the harshness of his earlier questions.
“Seventy-five thousand dollars,” I say under my breath as quickly as possible.
“What?” he yells.
I rush to get my explanation out before he loses his newfound cool. “I took it from the safe, but I barely made a dent in the money. There’s no way he would notice it missing.”
He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at me, his forehead wrinkling. “You didn’t think it was odd your boyfriend had a safe full of money.”
“It’s always been there. I asked once and Mario said restaurants are a cash business.” My head shakes back and forth, but I’m not sure if I’m doing it or if it’s from emotional exhaustion. “By the time the stuff started with the accountant, I’d learned it was better n
ot to ask questions.”
“And you don’t have the diamonds?”
“I swear. I’ve never seen a loose diamond. Certainly nothing laying around the house.”
“You didn’t accidentally bring them with you? Maybe you didn’t realize it.”
“God. I promise. I’ve been through everything I brought with me.” My volume increases. “There are no diamonds.” Won’t someone believe me? What if Mario made the whole thing up to fuck with me?
Ridge sits beside me on the couch. “Tabitha, look me in the eye and swear. I need to know you’re being truthful.”
My eyes raise to meet his, and I see concern etched over his face. “I swear, Ridge.”
“Go get me the USB.”
I sigh.
It’s a sigh of relief. I hate to pass off my problems to Ridge, but the USB has been a constant worry over the last two weeks. Lifting my butt from the couch I reach into my jeans pocket and hand the small white drive to him.
“Jesus Christ, Tabitha, you’ve had it on you the whole time?”
“It was in the car for a little while.”
Ridge sends out a text on his phone while I glare at the manila folder in his hand.
“How long have you known?” I ask when he lowers his phone.
“About Mario? Last week. He was the job I left town to handle.”
My mouth drops open. “You went to Oklahoma to check up on my story?” None of it makes sense.
“No, I went to Oklahoma to beat up your abusive ex-boyfriend,” Ridge practically spits the words.
“You beat up Mario for me?” Should I be impressed or upset?
“Hell yes. But then he started mouthing off about how I couldn’t fuck with the family. I swung by the police station on my way out of town and they were quite helpful.”
He’s said too much. My brain stops. Just stops working. I can’t process another piece of information. I stare at the wall with my head tilted to the side, but I don’t see anything.
Someone knocks on his front door and Ridge answers it while I sit on the couch in shock. Is there something more than shock? Because I passed that limiting emotion with the break-in. “Something like that.”
Bennett peeks his head past the doorway and I shoot him a sad smile, too exhausted to put much effort into it.
“Take this back to the office and have Spencer put everything through full checks. She doesn’t know what it will have on it.” Ridge hands over the thumb drive I’ve protected since I left and closes the door on Bennett’s head nod.
“In the spirit of honesty.” Ridge returns to the leather chair. “I’ve had Bennett follow you.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Since when?”
“Not long.”
I open my mouth to ask more questions, but there aren’t any. My ability to think has shut down. My entire life is a lie and now the guy I thought my hero lied too. He flew to Oklahoma. Had me followed. Who the hell is he?
“Why?”
Ridge closes his eyes slowly opening them a few seconds later. “I had to know.”
“Because you thought I was a drug dealer from Oklahoma?” My voice rises with every word.
Ridge releases a huge breath and tilts his head to the ceiling. “I never believed it, Tabitha, but I had to make sure. If I ignored information of that magnitude because you’re hot, it would make me pretty shitty at this security business. I needed to be sure.”
I hate when he makes decent points. Plus, I can’t give Ridge too much shit since one-to-one I’m still up on the lies told category. We’re like a fucked up episode of One Life to Live.
“This is what we’ll do, Tabitha.” Ridge rests his hands on his knees leaning toward me in his chair. It’s a move he makes when he’s in work mode. “Come on, you’ll fall over at any minute. Let’s get some sleep. It will take a day or two for Spencer to analyze the thumb drive and decide if there’s anything useful on it. Tomorrow we’ll get your window fixed and set up an alarm system in your house.”
I nod, ready for the whole sleep part of the night he mentioned. My body is heavy with the day’s emotions, but handing over the USB lifted much of my tension. Even if it means I’m passing on my problems.
“We’ll set you up with one of our top of the line systems…”
Ridge continues to talk about the alarm system he’ll work out for me, but in my mind I hear blah blah blah. With my head cocked to the side like I’m listening intently to him, I analyze my current situation. I don’t want drug money in my house. Or anywhere on me. When I thought pizza funded my escape, I worried enough about the money. Now I’m scared I’ll have the entire Oklahoma drug cartel knocking on my door. And who in the hell knew Oklahoma had a drug cartel? It’s fucking Oklahoma.
Are they using cows as drug runners?
Ridge rubs his hand against my knee and I peek up to see him sitting on the couch next to me. I’m not sure when he moved over here, but I like when he’s so close.
“I’ll keep you safe until the whole situation is dealt with, Tabitha. I promise.”
The words soothe part of my aching heart and I rest my head on his shoulder leaning into his body. His woodsy cologne fills my senses as I relax into his chest. Ridge wraps an arm around my shoulders with a light squeeze.
“So you had Bennett follow me for my safety?”
He tenses. “No, to see if you were part of the gang and here working for Mario.”
I pull back and lift my tired eyes to his deep blue ones. Any other day of the week his words would cut me like a knife to the chest, but tonight after everything else they barely nick the surface. I’m already too broken. Men suck.
“I’ve always been truthful with you, Tabitha. I’m not a guy to play games.”
Or mince words.
“It’s been a long day and you’re tired. Let’s go to sleep and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
Ridge runs up his steps, taking two at a time. Energetic for a man who said he was tired too. I reach the top of the stairs a full minute after him and wander my way past as he digs in a hallway closet. I sit on the edge of his bed and wait.
He peeks his head in the room. “Do you need a shirt to sleep in?”
“Please.” If I find the strength to change clothes, it will be nice to have comfort.
A dresser drawer opens and Ridge passes me a white shirt, a Detroit Red Wings logo printed on the front. He leaves the room and I hurry to change. Well, I hurry as quickly as possible. The shirt hangs to my upper thighs, the arm holes big enough to fit two of mine. Ridge is a large guy, but this must be large on him too.
I’ve stripped back the covers on the bed when he steps back into the room. “I’ve made up the couch so I’ll sleep down there. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Seriously?” I ask completely broken.
He nods. “Yeah.” Then turns and walks away.
A tougher woman would go after him. Yell or plead. Something.
I don’t.
My arms and legs each weigh a hundred pounds. My heart a thousand. I’m not able to chase Ridge even if I wanted. And right now I’m too raw. I’d rather lie down and allow myself to break — wallow in my self-pity in private.
Tears coat Ridge’s pillow in minutes. After all the tears I’ve cried today, I don’t know what I’m the most upset over. The lost potential relationship with Ridge, my lie of a life the past four years, the fact Benny’s out plotting my murder right now.
I cry for hours… or thirty minutes, there’s no clock, and every second feels excruciatingly long in Ridge’s bed alone, surrounded by his scent. I turn to the wall when he shuts off the light downstairs and clutch the extra pillow for something to hang on to.
A hand trails the length of my back as Ridge pulls the covers away and I tense, sniffling into the pillow. Ridge wraps his arms around me, turning me in the process and brings me to his chest. “Hey, I’ve got you, okay?”
With my face pressed into his naked chest, I cry harder. “I’m so sorr
y. So sorry, Ridge.” A sniffle hiccup interrupts my pleas as I gasp for breath to continue talking. “I’m so stupid. I got caught up and Benny’s threats. I’m scared. Where am I going to find diamonds?”
Ridge squeezes me, his hands rubbing up and down my back. “When I say I’ve got you, I mean I’ve got you, Tabitha. Nothing will happen to you on my watch. We’ll take care of this problem, okay?”
I nod, but it’s halfhearted.
“This needs verbal confirmation. You need to say, ‘Ridge you are a wonderful man. Please swoop in and fix the shit I’ve gotten myself into.’ Say it like that.”
His high pitched imitation of a woman talking makes me chuckle once. Then I have to stop to sniff snot back in my nose. So attractive.
I’m a fucking mess.
“Well, I don’t hear you,” he prods.
“Sorry.” More sniffles blur my speech. “I don’t deserve your help.”
“Yes, you do.”
“You barely know me. Hell after everything you showed me tonight, I barely know me.”
“You’re wrong. You are the same person you’ve always been. Help me learn about you. Let’s play a game.”
“A game? Right now.” I’m not up for a quick trip around the game board of life.
He laughs. How he’s laid back right now is a mystery. “Let’s play Twenty Questions. Except we’ll play until you feel better.”
“That will require a lot of questions, Ridge.” I sigh.
“It’s okay. I’ll start. What was your first pet’s name?”
“Toby. A long haired hamster. I was six when my neighbor’s snake ate him.”
“A snake?”
“Toby liked to get out of his cage. My turn. Why does everyone in town think you’re a bad breaker upper?”
Ridge laughs, his head held back on the pillow and his body shaking mine. “You jump right in, huh?”
I nod into his chest hiding my small smile.
“As you’ve probably noticed, I don’t like to beat around the bush. I’m the same with the people I allow in my life. Not everyone can handle my frankness, but those who do I try to make it worth their while.”
Security Risk Page 14
