Blurred Lines

by Jennifer K. Brand

  I decided to read up on what I could find. Gather up as much information as I could. Hector seemed to think I knew more on Raffaele than I did. From what I’d overheard, Hector and Raffaele were rivals and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that most if not all of their activities were illegal. But how did Davide tie up to all this?

  And just like that I had a brain wave. I went back to the Google search results.

  Raffaele D’Amato was born in New York to Italian immigrant parents. He is said to have associations with the clan bosses of the Camorra.

  Jesus! The Camorra! I knew a lot about the Camorra. In fact, the book I’d been reading a year ago when I met Davide was all about their activities in Naples. No wonder he seemed surprised when he saw the cover. The Google results told me what I already knew. The Camorra was an Italian mafia-like crime syndicate originating from the Naples region of Italy. However, in recent years they had established a presence in the United States, particularly in New York.

  The Camorra was not considered as big as the Five Mafia Families of New York, it was also not quite as infamous, but its activities had increased in recent years. A shiver went through me. Some of the details about Camorra activities in Naples were truly chilling.

  I moved on to crime syndicates in Barcelona. I was sure that Hector was head of one, which only meant that Davide was second in command. I couldn’t find much about Spanish cartels and after three hours of staring at the computer I decided to take a break.

  At the back of my mind I knew I was missing something. But I was exhausted and the headache had still not cleared. I would have to get a password from someone higher up at Miller and Miller to get to Raffaele’s files.

  ***

  “I’m stoked!” Shouted Macy as we walked out of my apartment.

  “You’re always stoked if it involves alcohol.”

  “I’m choosing to ignore you. Are you in a reminiscing mood? We could go to Don Pedro’s for some Sangria.”

  “No way!”

  I knew Macy was referring to the Sangria we’d had at The Q but for a second I was transported back to the dark room with only Pedro’s voice for company.

  “Oh-kay,” said Macy looking at me weirdly. “So no Sangria, what do you suggest?”

  “Let’s go to Jenny’s.”

  Jenny’s was an indie rock bar between Greenpoint and Williamsburg.

  We’d both gone all out with our outfits. Me in some tight fitting black jeans and a loose white translucent blouse tucked in. I’d paired the outfit with some gold loop earrings and black patent leather Louboutin pumps I’d bought on sale. I’d left my blond hair down in teased waves. Macy was on some sort of mission in a tight black dress, hardly any accessories and strappy sandals. Her red mane was left loose and straight around her shoulders.

  We got some seats at the bar and ordered for some Sauvignon Blanc. I wasn’t really in the mood to drink but I was tired of being stuck at home with just my thoughts for company. I missed Davide. I spent every moment of my day trying to figure out how to reach him without endangering him.

  There was a live band playing some well-known rock songs and I was getting in the mood. Macy was in non-stop chatter mode. She was having problems with her husband and was on man-bashing mode. The alcohol wasn’t helping.

  “Men are all assholes!” she declared.

  I laughed. “You’ve said that.”

  “Well they are. I mean look at that asshole Spaniard just dumping you the way he did.”

  “Italian. He’s Italian. Plus he didn’t dump me, we were just never going to work out.”

  “Hey! Whose side are you on here? Us women need to stick together.”

  And so it went for the next couple of hours. The band played some instrumentals and opened up the stage for Karaoke. Macy did an enthusiastic rendition of It’s Raining Men, rather strange seeing as she was in a decidedly anti-men mood. She insisted I sing something and my alcohol laden mind led me to the stage. I asked for Charlene Soraia’s rendition of Wherever You Will Go. I was still moaning my ‘could have beens’ and to be honest, I wasn’t ready to move on. Far from it. The piano started and I sang my heart out.

  When I got back to the bar, I had two sets of eyes on me. Macy’s narrowed ones, shit, she was onto me, and a pair of turquoise ones on a handsome boyish face. The man got to me before Macy could start her inquisition.

  “You have a lovely voice.” He moved closer. He was actually very cute, but I was about to let him down easy when Macy shouted, “It’s girl’s night lover boy, move it along.” He glared at her but moved back to his seat.

  I laughed, feeling light hearted for the first time in days. “You could be more polite you know.”

  “Men on the hunt don’t have a clue what polite is, you have to tell them like it is.”

  I could see surfer guy still staring at me, and had I been in the mood, he could have made me temporarily forget Davide. But I wasn’t in the mood and I knew from experience that Davide was not the kind of man anyone forgot easily.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Monday morning dawned bright and early and I was eager to get to work. I had a meeting with Patrick and David Miller. But I was more excited about getting into the database to see what I could find about Raffaele D’Amato.

  I wasn’t quite sure why the Millers wanted to see me but I had an inkling it had to do with my promotion. I dressed in a black pencil skirt and slim fitting white sweater. Held my hair up in a tight bun and got ready for a possible demotion.

  Jennifer the paralegal showed me in and I sat across from my boss and his son. Patrick and David Miller were intimidating, but I was confident about my work so I wasn’t too worried.

  “You’ve been showing consistently good results in all your assignments Ms. Brinkley. We wanted you to know that it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

  “Thank you. I love it here and aim to do my best”

  “And you are. We’ve had one position open for junior associate and we know that there’s been a lot of competition but your work spoke for itself and we decided to give you the position.”

  I guess they were not going to mention Raffaele D’Amato, which made me wonder if he truly had anything to do with my promotion. I was good at what I did, so maybe it was just a case of hard work meeting good fortune.

  “I really appreciate it sir.”

  “One particular client has asked to have you in his representation in future and we’ve agreed to indulge him.”

  My heart started beating hard. No, it couldn’t be…

  “You know Mr. D’Amato, you were in his team last year and he’s one of our biggest clients so we hope that you will continue representing us well in his team.”

  “I will sir.” I managed to get out through my constricting throat. I wanted to be nowhere near Raffaele D’Amato but I couldn’t tell that to my bosses. Not without risking my job. But wasn’t I risking something bigger? I had to think about this some more. On the one hand, I wanted to stay very far from Raffaele’s sphere of influence but at the same time, he was probably my only link to Davide.

  “That’ll be all Ms. Brinkley. Make us proud.”

  I walked out of the office in a daze and almost bumped into Jennifer hurrying into the office.

  “Oh Lori! I was just about to come get Mr. Miller for his second appointment.”

  I smiled and was about to say something polite when it occurred to me that I needed to get her out of her desk.”

  I’m actually not feeling too good, can I sit at your desk for a moment?”

  “Sure. Let me just get the message to Mr. Miller and I’ll be back.”

  I went to her desk and quickly scanned for anything that looked like a password. Nothing. She was back in no time at all. Damn!

  “Would you like me to get you some water? Anything?

  “Water please.”

  And she rushed off in the direction of the kitchen. I rummaged through all her drawers but all I could find were pictures of her family and other usele
ss things I couldn’t make head of.

  “Here you go,” she passed me the water just as I managed to close the cabinet I’d had open.

  “Thanks so much Jennifer.” I took the water and walked off. Damn! I’d have to figure something else out. I called Macy immediately. It wasn’t my first choice as I’d have to tell her why I was snooping but I was running out of choices.

  “Hey, I need a favor.”

  “Sure,” said Macy sounding bored.

  “You’re quite close to Nina in accounting right?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “And she’s very good friends with Jennifer right?”

  “Mm-hmm, again… why?”

  “I need Jennifer’s intranet password.”

  “At the risk of sounding like a parrot, why?”

  “Can’t you just do this for me? Just find out anything about her that could give me a clue as to what her password is. I’ll tell you everything later.”

  “Fine. But you owe me.”

  “Sure.” I said and hung up.

  At the lunch break Macy came to my office. “Lunch?” she asked.

  “I actually don’t have much time.”

  “We can always grab a hotdog outside.” She suggested.

  I picked up my hand bag, logged out of the computer and followed her out. It was nice late summer weather so we ordered for two hotdogs and stood not far from the stand.

  “You owe me big time. I asked Nina about Jennifer, don’t worry, I was all suave about it so she has no clue. And you know Nina, she’s such a gossip she just needs an opening. According to her, all Jennifer talks about is her 5 year old son Kyle. He’s apparently an H&M model now and she couldn’t be prouder.” Macy rolled her eyes at this.

  “I’m hoping this is leading somewhere…” I said biting into my cream cheese and bacon hot dog.

  Macy ignored me and continued, “so, I thought since she’s so proud of her son and all, maybe her password is…”

  “Oh my God! You are so right!” I squealed.

  “You could let me finish my sentence and get my moment of glory here.”

  “Okay, please, oh clever one, tell me.”

  “Her son, Christopher Denis Sloane was born five years ago, August 7. So all you have to do is think of all possible combinations.”

  “That might be hard but I’ll give it a shot.”

  “Now do you mind telling me what this is for?”

  “Fine. You were right, Raffaele D’Amato is the one responsible for my promotion. I want to know why and the only way to get all his files is either through a partner or their paralegals.”

  “And you don’t think he just wants to do the nasty with you?”

  “Why have me promoted if all he wanted was to sleep with me?”

  “You’re right.” She looked at me directly, uh oh. “And you’re sure this is it? Nothing else going on?”

  “Nope, I just want to be ahead of whatever game he might be playing. Anyhow, how’s John?” She’d managed to avoid all conversation of her marriage the entire weekend so I knew just the thing to distract her with.

  “Gah! Don’t get me started!” And that began her rumbling tirade about men in general and John in particular.

  ***

  Later on at night, I took a cab to a restaurant in Park Slope and ordered for a vegetable risotto. I’d decided to do some investigating and was taking some precautions. The restaurant I was in had open Wi-Fi but I opted to log into one of the many open ones available in the area. I wanted to log into the Miller and Miller intranet and this was the only way I could think off to do so incognito. Not too close to work or home and an open Wi-Fi connection.

  I opened the page and started the guessing game. It took about an hour and my entire plate of risotto before I got the winning password combination - ChrisDSloane09. And voila! I was in. I immediately did a search for Raffaele D’Amato and was surprised at the number of search results I got.

  “Will you be having anything else?”, the waiter was standing too close to me for comfort.

  “A glass of wine please. White. Dry.” And off he went.

  There were too many search results for me to wrap my head around. Most of them court exhibits that I was sure would give me more detail about his last case. But that wasn’t where my interests lay. I went straight to his bio. I wasn’t sure I’d uncover anything because Raffaele hadn’t made his womanizing secret. But I didn’t know much about the man, and in the forefront of my mind was the knowing your enemies quote from The Art of War by Sun Tzu. I intended to know everything I could about Raffaele, Hector, and even Davide. I was going to be prepared.

  I clicked on Raffaele’s bio and started scanning though it. He was listed as being single and having never married. No surprise there. Then there it was, the surprising bit - he had a daughter. Had. She had been killed at the age of 21 but there was no information as to how it happened. I felt an immediate sadness on his behalf. I was an only child and had been raised by my mother and grandmother. My father had done a disappearing act as soon as he found out that my mother was pregnant. I couldn’t imagine losing my mom or Gran.

  I turned the page and was surprised to find more details on Raffaele’s family. According to the information, he had adopted a son but no one knew of his whereabouts. Whether he was alive or dead. Just that he was no longer in Raffaele’s life. What a lonely life, I thought.

  The next page consisted of photos of Raffaele in different functions and at different stages of his life. I wondered how Miller and Miller had come across this information. I doubted Raffaele had given him such an unfiltered glimpse of his life. They were his attorneys of course but the personal information was hardly ever required during investigations unless it was vital.

  Turning to the next page, I came across a photo of a younger, happier Raffaele. The background seemed coastal to me and though I’d never been to Italy, I imagined that was where the shot had been taken. Next to him was a very pretty girl, about nine or ten years old. She had dark hair and dark eyes just like Raffaele and she was gazing up at him, an adoring look on her face. Next to her was a boy who looked to be in his mid-teens. I felt my jaw drop. Add about fifteen to twenty years and he would be the spitting image of Davide.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Davide hated these sorts of meetings. Hector had managed to hire the biggest idiots in the country. All muscle and no brain. And as if having to work with them was not enough torture, he had to listen to them in meetings such as this one. They were at the moment arguing about something he couldn’t bring himself to care about. Hector tended to indulge their nonsense, so he always blocked them out.

  All he seemed to be thinking about was how to see Lori again. It had been almost a month since Lori had left Spain. On the day of her departure, he couldn’t face her. He felt like shit for fucking a random girl less than an hour after making love to her. But as soon as he’d learnt that she’d left, he knew he should have seen her one last time.

  He’d done a lot of stupid things to make sure she knew he cared. He’d booked her in the same hotel room she’d had when he met her. And as if that wasn’t enough, he’d left her a note. He knew she’d gotten it because he’d overheard her conversation with the concierge. All the phones at The Q were tapped, so he’d heard her sweet voice one more time.

  She sounded confused though, so she probably had not figured out the message. God. How he wished he could see her again. He was brought back to the meeting when Hector mentioned his name.

  “…Davide will take care of it.”

  “Who fucked up this time?” he inquired.

  “No one. If you were listening, you would know. We finally caught one goon working for D’Amato. He admitted that they’ve been intercepting our shipments. I’ve decided that someone should go to New York to deal with the problem. We’ve contacted our friends the Dominicans in New York and they’re happy to help. But I need someone coordinating them.”

  Davide swallowed. Fuck. He wasn’t sure he wan
ted to go back to New York. In fact, he was very sure he didn’t want to. For one, he’d want to see Lori, even if only from afar. Second, Raffaele would know that he was back in town and that wouldn’t go down well.

  “We could ask Pedro to go. I would much rather stay here and keep coordinating the shipments that do arrive, and Pedro would be well received by the Dominicans.”

  “Pedro can take care of the shipments here. I need to send my second in command so that those motherfuckers know how serious I am. We’ve had abysmal returns since the shipments started going missing. Everyone from Sinaloa to Sicily thinks I’m a wimp, taking this lying down. Time to show them how serious I am. The rest of you are dismissed, I need to have a talk with Davide.”

  I waited as everyone shuffled out, earning a glare from Pedro. He was going to be a problem.

  “So here’s the deal. Go meet with Nico Rodriguez. He’s been waiting a long time to bring Raffaele down so he’ll be more than cooperative. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, that sort of thing. He has a Cartel made up of idiots but he seems to believe in it and we need all the help we can get.

  Davide found it funny that Hector thought the Dominicans were idiots when half his cartel couldn’t tell their ass from their face. “What exactly I’m I meant to do with a bunch of idiots? Raffaele is a very intelligent man. Confronting him without any plan is incredibly stupid. I’m also still not sure why he’d be taking the girls when he’s more interested in drugs.”

  “That’s why I chose you. You come up with a plan and it better be a successful one. You leave in a week.”

  With that, Hector dismissed him.

  So he was going to New York. This was going to be interesting.

  ***

  When he got to his apartment, he went straight to his untraceable phone.

  “Turns out I’m coming to New York to figure out what the hell the Camorra is doing with our shipments of girls,” he said with no preamble.

  “So he finally decided to do something about it. What exactly are you meant to do?”