by Ali Vali
“Some might say there’s something really sexual about that.” Muriel pointed to Shelby caressing her Manhattan glass and laughed. “Is something wrong? I don’t mind taking a rain check.”
“Please sit. I was just going over my day and the little surprise it came with.”
One of the servers approached and pulled out her pad.
“Double Jameson neat, with an Abita Amber draft on the side,” Muriel said before the girl could ask. “And bring the lady another.”
“Trying to get me drunk?” Shelby flipped her hair back and smiled in a coy fashion.
“Not at all.” Muriel threw her coat in the empty chair across from her, sat, and placed her hands flat on the table as if to stretch them out before reaching for a nut from the bowl close to Shelby. “I’m trying to get you to a place where you forget three little letters that are so much a part of your identity. And make you forget my last name.”
“If what you’re talking about are FBI and Casey, that’ll take a whole lot more of these.” She pointed to her drink.
“As they say, Shelby, the night is young.”
With the quick efficiency the Piquant was known for, the drinks were delivered to the table with a fresh bowl of snacks. Muriel picked up the whiskey first and drained the glass. The smooth-tasting liquor blended well with the glass of rum she’d already had during her meeting with Ramon.
“Tough day yourself?” Shelby’s blue eyes widened a bit at the ease with which the whiskey had gone down.
“Just trying to catch up with you.”
“Now why does that make me think you don’t say those words often in any situation?”
“See, you bring out the best in me.” At the bar the green bottle came out again and the bartender poured Muriel a refill.
The murmur of quiet conversations filled the room, accentuated every so often with a laugh from one of the patrons, but Muriel was content to just enjoy the comfortable silence between them. It gave her a chance to look around and check if there was anyone of interest that Shelby should know about.
Dalton, Cain’s father, had taught her and Cain to study a room. “Never sit and not look around you, girls. One day it may make the difference between finding an enemy or their bullet finding you.” Her uncle repeated the lesson every time they were out together.
With a silent thank-you to the man who had taught her so much, Muriel finished her drink and reached for her beer, watching the stage. Every so often after she spotted them, though, she glanced at the two men sitting close to the bar. They had glasses of pale beer in front of them and were trying their hardest to fit in with a crowd that was just a bit out of their league as far as fashion was concerned.
“So what’s tonight really about?” Muriel asked Shelby, trying to sound casual.
“What do you mean? This is just drinks, Counselor,” Shelby answered with a smile, thinking that Muriel was flirting with her.
“So, not working tonight? You know, trying to find ways to dig up dirt.”
Still not understanding, Shelby put her hand on Muriel’s forearm. “I just thought after today you might need a friendly ear or shoulder, whichever you want. I told you that today and I meant it.” She squeezed the solid arm under her hand and smiled. “This is just about one friend helping another.”
Muriel looked at the hand touching her and felt like a block of ice had formed in her chest. This wasn’t about two friends finding comfort in each other’s company; it was someone trying to play her at what she thought was a vulnerable time. “That sounds really good, but could you excuse me for a minute?”
“Sure, I’ll be waiting. Would you like another drink?”
Muriel shook her head, stood up, and grabbed her coat. Shelby was about to ask why when the attorney started walking to the bar without another word. Shelby pivoted in her seat to see where she was going. The bartender leaned over the counter and offered Muriel her hand in a greeting that spoke of an old friendship, then nodded as Muriel whispered in her ear. Shelby followed Muriel’s finger as it pointed first to the table they had been sharing and then to another table not far from where she was standing at the bar. From her pocket, a roll of bills emerged, and Muriel put quite a few in the woman’s hand. After that she saluted first Shelby, then Lionel and Joe, before walking out.
Wood-paneled elevator doors slid closed before Shelby could catch up with Muriel and explain she didn’t know her fellow workers were going to be there. Any hope of building trust between them was plummeting as quickly as the elevator heading for the first floor, and she was furious. She loved her job, but there had to be more to life than the part that belonged to the government.
“What in the hell are you guys doing here?” She stood next to them with her hands on her hips, a clear sign she wasn’t happy. “I don’t appreciate being spied on.”
“Come on, Shelby. It’s what you do for a living,” Joe said, trying to sound funny so she’d come off the ledge. “We just wanted to make sure you were all right with all that’s happening. I’d be sick if you got caught in the cross fire, and I wasn’t here to do anything about it.”
“Did it occur to you two idiots that this had nothing to do with work? She lost two young associates today because some psycho who’s out to get her cousin decided to blow up her office. I just wanted to help her get over that.”
“We’re sorry, but there’s another reason for our being here,” Lionel said. Before he could say anything else, the bartender Muriel had talked to before leaving came up and set a tray on the table.
“How are y’all doing tonight?” The woman had a pleasant smile, and Shelby found herself returning it. “Muriel asked me to set you up with the next round before she took off. She picked them out, so if you want something else, let me know.”
Shelby picked up the glass. “What is it?”
“We usually call it a buttery nipple.”
“Usually?” Joe asked.
“Tonight, with the size of her tip, she renamed it. Enjoy your ‘it’s as close as you’re ever going to get.’ Or should I make that plural?”
“Oh, yeah, they’re related,” Shelby whispered when she thought of Cain. And as had happened with Cain, Shelby was afraid there would never be anything between her and Muriel either, no matter how much attraction they shared.
The gulf between them was too wide.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning the doctor looked at Cain’s injuries longer than usual. Uncovered, the gunshot wounds looked rather gruesome, but Dr. Elton said Cain would be almost back to normal in another month, barring any major setbacks. Cain and Emma smiled as he carefully enunciated that she would be in the hospital at least two more weeks so he could keep a careful eye on her.
“Good morning,” Todd, their orderly, said as he walked in with an arm loaded down with towels right after the doctor left.
Todd was working the day shift beginning that morning, and he was starting his rounds in Cain’s room. For the last twenty-four hours his new boss had been confined to listening to only the conversations that had taken place in the main room, but the two new hundred dollar bills in Todd’s pocket were about to fix that.
“Just do it the same way as before, only this time pick someplace that isn’t going to get wet.” Those were his orders, and as he scrutinized the room, he chose the toilet paper dispenser. The talks with the FBI agent he was working for were emboldening him, and Todd had offered to take some pictures if the man could get him a small enough camera. However, the guy seemed content to stick to the bugs for now.
A little bit of what looked to Todd like silly putty was all he needed to put the device in place. He put the towels away, leaned to the dispenser, and whispered, “Testing one, two, three,” before heading back into the room. The guard who sat with Cain sometimes was in the corner, but so was Cain’s blond companion, and Todd ogled her for a moment longer than he intended.
“Is there a problem?” Cain asked. She’d had enough of this guy, and it was time t
o put a little fear into him.
The man listening from across the street leaned forward in his chair to get closer to the speaker and felt the beads of sweat break out across his forehead.
“No, ma’am, I was just getting your bathroom supplies put away. Can I get you anything else?” Alert, Cain did look a little more imposing, and he didn’t want to hang around any more than he had to. If all the stories about her were true, he could only imagine what she’d do to him if she figured out what he was up to.
“Not a thing, but thanks for asking. I want to compliment you on the great job you and the others are doing in taking care of me.” Cain felt a slight pinch to her side from Emma as she let her know she was laying it on a little thick.
God, what a sucker this idiot is. Todd smiled as he thought of her ignorance. “It’s my pleasure.”
With a flick of her hand, Cain sent Merrick after the short wannabe detective as he went about his other duties. “I think our little friend has a crush on you, love,” she told Emma.
The man listening to them let out a relieved stream of air from his lungs when he heard Cain’s comment. “Ah, my boy’s eyes lingered too long on that bit of fluff you keep around, did they, Casey?” He’d known her long enough to realize she didn’t ask questions of anyone without reason. When the idiot he’d hired had whispered into the bug, for a second he’d thought they’d blown it.
“I don’t seriously think you have a thing to worry about.” Emma leaned over and kissed Cain long enough for her breathing to deepen. Free to express how she felt, Emma was having a hard time keeping her hands to herself. “At the moment you have other concerns.”
“Do tell,” Cain said, before she gently took Emma’s bottom lip between her teeth.
Emma pulled back just a little. “I’ll be happy when I get you in a room with a lock on the door. For now you’ll have to be content with me just sitting here and making eyes at you.” Emma pecked the enticing lips once more before helping Cain to her feet. They’d started for the door when the phone at the bedside rang.
“Hello.” Emma entwined her fingers with Cain’s as she listened to the explanation on the other end. “I told you later on today, so don’t bug your uncle Jarvis to bring you over here.”
Cain smiled, imagining the answer their son most probably had practiced before calling.
“I know you miss her, Hayden, but Mom needs her rest so we can bring her home. Once she does you’ll get to see her all the time, so just sit tight, and I’ll come by and get the two of you later. How’s your sister?”
The conversation obviously wasn’t going to end soon, so Cain stepped into the bathroom and scouted around. Afraid if she bent over she wouldn’t be able to get back on her feet without Emma’s help, Cain took Emma’s small mirror from the bathroom counter and ran it along the bottom of the most conspicuous thing in the room. She found what she looking for in the center, almost too close to the edge to be seen. However, something about it didn’t seem right, aside from the fact they had used Todd to plant both the devices. He was ballsy, she gave him that, but he wasn’t highly intelligent.
“I’ll be over around four when Mom takes her nap to pick you both up.” Emma wrapped the cord around her finger and smiled. Hayden was too smart for his own good sometimes, and he must have sensed something was up and was ready to come to the hospital and ask them about it. “Stop laughing or I’ll tell her you’re making fun of the fact she has to take a nap.” She smiled at whatever his response was and glanced at Cain. “I’ll tell her, sweetheart, and I love you too.”
“Getting cabin fever already?” Cain asked. She stepped farther into the room to hide the fact she’d been in the bathroom at all.
“He just misses you and wanted to come see you. Though he used his sister as an excuse to get me to come earlier.” Emma pointed to the bathroom and cocked her head to the side.
Cain nodded and sat on the bed. She really did need to have a long talk with Emma, but her options were limited as long as they were in the hospital together.
“He said Hannah was crying for you all morning, and we shouldn’t keep her waiting.”
“I’m sure he’s done his fair share of missing you as well, Mama.” Cain chuckled for the benefit of her listeners and pointed to the IV in her arm. She wasn’t anywhere near being up to her full strength, but it was time to go back to work.
With a sigh Emma took a Band-Aid off the table and went about the task of what she assumed Cain wanted, without any interruption in their innocent conversation. “I guess he thought he could talk me into letting him stay home from school another day.” The small catheter slid out of Cain’s arm, and Emma let it just drop to the ground as she covered the puncture with the strip.
Cain was now free of her IV pole. In her purse Emma had the necessary prescriptions they’d need to see Cain through the next few weeks. There was no reason she couldn’t start taking her medications orally.
“And you didn’t fall for that?” Cain said. “What kind of mother are you?” She stood and gratefully accepted Emma’s help in getting on a pair of pajamas and robe, tossing the hated hospital gown on the bed. The fatigue from such a simple act amazed her, but she just plowed through it and stood once again. “How about I take a nap now, and I’ll be ready for him by the time he gets out of school. Besides, I’m sure Hannah would love to see you.”
“Then let’s get you tucked in.” The bed linens rustled as Emma pulled the blankets up and fluffed the pillow. “I love you, honey.”
She whispered the sentiment to the standing Cain and almost cried when Cain pulled her into the strongest embrace she could manage. Hopefully all of this wouldn’t take long and they could return to the business of rebuilding their family.
“Trust me, lass, everything’s going to be fine.”
For the first since Emma had come back, she totally believed that.
Chapter Twelve
Giovanni Bracato would have worried about Cain, but his sons had done such a thorough job of blowing holes in her defenses and strongholds, he seriously doubted she would recover in time to give him any problems. By adding connections from Latin America he could expand his operation enough to muscle out Vincent and Ramon.
He sat across from his new suppliers and tried not to reveal his reactions, since he wasn’t familiar with the three men. Things were going well, and he didn’t want to screw them up by giving them any reason to doubt the sincerity of his word.
“So as you can see, Señor Luis, we have the market and the ability to move the product into the city. I just need your guarantee that the supply will flow steadily from your end.” Giovanni had a hard time keeping a smug expression off his face as he adjusted his girth in the upholstered seat and reached for the cup of coffee one of his men had taken from the waiter and served. With his other hand he patted the briefcase lying on the table to his left and finally let the corners of his mouth curl upward slightly. “Let me worry about the street sales, and you just collect the cash.”
Francis stepped up beside his father and snapped open the case containing stacks of hundred dollar bills and a brand-new 9 mm handgun. “What my father means is, you’ll collect the cash and weapons as per our agreement.”
“What about customs?” Juan Luis leaned forward and pushed aside the coffee with a look of disgust. A thick lock of dark hair fell into his eyes as he spoke, and he pushed it back impatiently. “With all the new security measures your government has put in place, how do we know you can get all you’re committed to into the country? Because once it’s ordered, amigo, you’re responsible for it. I don’t give a fuck if it makes it in or not.”
“Because I just gave you my word.” Giovanni had to stop himself before he tacked an insult to the end of his sentence. “That should be good enough.”
An older gentleman sat to the side smoking a cigar and listening. Giovanni had dismissed him as an advisor and concentrated on negotiating with Juan, who up to now had asked all the questions and done all the talking.<
br />
“Your word means mierda to us.” Juan’s mouth went up in a sneer when he said the Spanish word for “shit.” “With all the heat you have on you right now, you’re lucky we’re even here talking to you.”
“You listen to me, you little pissant,” Giovanni said, ignoring his son’s hand on his shoulder as he aimed his finger at Juan, seated directly across from him.
“Please, Mr. Bracato, my nephew is a man used to speaking his mind. There’s no reason for name-calling.” The older man put his cigar down and patted the young man sitting next to him on the leg. “We are simply protecting our livelihood. Surely you can understand my family’s concerns.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Rodolfo Luis, and it’s my coke you are buying.” He picked up his cigar and pointed it at Giovanni. He looked like he wanted to snap Bracato’s finger off. “Speak to me like you just did to my nephew, and I’ll have you drawn and quartered like in days of old.” He took a drag off the smoke to keep it lit and snickered. “Though we use chainsaws now to make it easier on ourselves.”
“Come on, Tío Rodolfo. This asshole knows the score.” With a snap of his fingers Juan leaned over and pulled the open briefcase over. “We’ll hold on to this in good faith.”
“Just remember that you fuck me and I have enough men to take you out,” Giovanni threatened. He felt his ears get hot when the three men just laughed in his face before leaving. If the dealers decided to renege on their deal, five hundred large of his money was walking out with them for just meeting with him.
“Pop, you shouldn’t have lost your cool like that. We need these guys.” Francis dropped into the chair Juan had been sitting in.
