by Jess Bentley
“The evidence on all of the charges is overwhelming. The grand jury saw fit to file all of these charges against Salvatore Cannizzo and I trust that his reign of terror over the good people of Manhattan will finally be coming to an end,” she said outside the courthouse on the first day of her case-in-chief.
But something went wrong along the way. Accusations of jury tampering ran wild, and despite numerous requests from Elliot that the jury be replaced, Judge David Monaghan refused. When the verdict was returned after just two hours of jury deliberation, Cannizzo was convicted of one count of bankruptcy fraud due to misfiled paperwork, and sentenced by Judge Monaghan to six months in a white-collar prison.
As she stood on the courthouse steps, a visibly shaken Elliot seemed baffled and frustrated. “We had ample evidence that Sonny Cannizzo ordered the murders of three innocent civil servants. We can connect him to forty-five more murders across several decades, in multiple states. There was no justice in that courtroom today.”
Cannizzo’s only son, Sebastian ‘Angel’ Cannizzo, had a very different take on the trial’s outcome.
“My pop fought the good fight. He showed those assholes that you can’t fight the Cannizzos and win. In six months, we’ll see who is back on top.”
The FBI Director and Brooklyn Chief of Police could not be reached for comment.
I feel my blood pressure rising. What possible connection could Arie have to people like the Cannizzo crime family? Was she on the jury? Did she accept a bribe? My mind is racing with a thousand different possibilities, when I see another link, further down the page, and it makes me even more nervous.
Sebastian ‘Angel’ Cannizzo Arrested in Connection with OTB Attack
It hasn’t been a good year for the notorious Cannizzo family. Mere months after Sonny Cannizzo found himself sentenced to time in a federal, white collar prison, Sonny’s oldest child, Sebastian “Angel” Cannizzo, was arrested on suspicion of causing grievous bodily harm. The alleged attack took place at the off-track betting parlor owned by his family.
Ardin McManus, 24, of Newark, was stabbed repeatedly in what at first appeared to be a random attack at Barney O’Toole’s Pub and Grille, an OTB. McManus survived, and directed police to Angel Cannizzo, claiming that he had been stabbed as the result of a disagreement over missing funds. It was later revealed that McManus worked for Cannizzo at Barney O’Toole’s as an enforcer, and authorities believed that Cannizzo had accused McManus of stealing money from the pub.
However, according to reports, when police arrived at the pub to question suspects, despite the fact the pub was full at the time of the attack, no one saw anything. All of the security footage from the day of McManus’ stabbing had disappeared, and the bartender who had directly witnessed the event, one Juliette Stratford, had suddenly moved to an unknown country.
Detective Jonathan Holtz has stated that the police have no intention of dropping the case, but for the time being, they are at a stalemate with the Cannizzo family.
“These guys think they have the city by the balls. But we are going to take them down. One-by-one if we have to. But I swear on my mother’s grave, we’re going to get them.”
When reached for comment, Angel Cannizzo said, “Go f*&k yourself.”
Nothing about what I just read is surprising. A lot of mafia kids in the city get their start by taking over gambling empires, and it seems like this Angel guy is no different. But there is no way Arie would ever get involved with gambling. Her Uncle Sal was in Gamblers Anonymous thanks to years spent squandering what little money they had at the OTB on horse racing. Arie loathes gambling. I can’t even process the possibility that she would have lost money betting on anything. No; it has to be something else.
I’m just about to look up Angel Cannizzo specifically when there is a knock on my door. I close the laptop quickly and try to wipe any trace of guilt off of my face.
“Come in,” I whisper shout, in case Chloe is asleep. Arie pokes her head through a crack in the door.
“Can I come in for a second?”
I nod, and she tiptoes into my room, just far enough so that we technically occupying the same space. “My passport is on its way. A bike messenger should have it here in an hour or so. So, we can leave whenever you want.”
“How did you get your passport that quickly?”
She shrugs. “A friend was getting it together for me anyway and apparently, it arrived today. The timing just worked out. I’ll give it to you when it gets here, so you can book flights.”
I cross my arms and turn toward Arie. “You have a friend who can get you a passport on short notice? And then bike messenger it over to you in the middle of the night? But you have to work as a nanny for your ex-boyfriend to make ends meet?”
Her mouth opens and closes like a fish, and then she scowls. “He owed me a favor, and we’d ordered the passport a while ago. It’s not like I called up the US government, asked them to send me a passport, and they did it.”
I get up from the chair and cross over to her. Arie starts to inch away, but I put my arm up, blocking her exit. She shrinks a little at the closeness between us, but I don’t give her an inch. “Arie, we have a lot of history. I screwed things up, I was an asshole to you. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t know you like the back of my hand. That doesn’t mean I don’t know you now.”
I don’t know what comes over me, but I find myself leaning in even closer to her, until our faces are barely a breath away from each other. The tension is so thick I can practically reach out and touch it, and all I want to do is throw her down on my bed and fuck her the way she deserves, the way I should have that night all those years ago. Like she’s a queen, a goddess. But right before our lips can touch, before the tension can be released in any sort of meaningful way, she ducks under my arm and out into the hallway.
“You don’t know me now, Pierce. You think you know everything, everyone, just because you can read people now. But you don’t know anything.”
She heads down the hallway toward the guest room I’ve designated hers, but she turns right before she walks through the door. I think maybe she will change her mind, that she’ll come back and kiss me, admit she still feels the passion that exists between us.
“Let me know when the messenger gets here,” she says before going in the room and shutting the door.
My shoulders slump, and I’m left standing in the hallway, feeling like a complete ass.
Some things never change.
* * *
It took a few days for me to sort out our travel plans, but now the three of us are sitting in JFK waiting for the first leg of our flight to Auckland. It’s going to be a long day, especially because I didn’t have time to stretch out our travel and linger on the way. We’re going from New York, to Los Angeles, to Sydney, to Auckland, and I have a feeling Chloe is going to be a cranky mess by the time we finally get to New Zealand.
However, crankiness can’t begin to compare to Arie, who is sitting next to me in the first-class lounge, shaking like a leaf and downing way too much herbal anti-anxiety medication.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been on an airplane before. You’re how old now?” I ask as I sip from a frosty mug of beer and help Chloe with a wooden puzzle. Arie frowns at me.
“What does my age have to do with it? I’ve never had a reason to go anywhere. Or the time. Or the money. So, I’ve never been on a plane. And instead of being a snob and judging me about it, maybe you could offer some advice on how not to freak out for the next twenty-four hours?” She leans over and puts her head between her legs, which makes Chloe giggle.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Okay, well. This one time, my unit and I were flying into a firefight in the middle east, and the helicopter we were on got shot down, so we had to bail out over the desert. We only have enough parachutes for three people and there were six of us, so…”
Arie looks up from where she was leaning between her knees, and her eyes are wide with panic. “Are you ki
dding me right now? I’m freaking out about getting on a massive commercial airliner, in first class no less, and your way of making me feel better is to tell me a story about your plane crashing?”
“I mean, it wasn’t a plane. It was a helicopter. So, not the same thing.”
Arie groans and puts her head back between her legs, and I shrug. Chloe keeps playing with her puzzle, and I answer some emails until priority boarding for the first-class cabin is called. Arie finally looks back up, and her face is practically green.
“This was a bad idea. I’ll just stay here. You can pick me up in the airport when you get back. I’ll make do, live in the terminal, like that Tom Hanks movie. What was it called?”
I snort laugh. “The Terminal?”
“Yeah, that one. Pick me up at Cinnabon in three weeks. I may be a hundred pounds heavier, but you’ll spot me pretty easily.”
I hoist Chloe onto my hip, then grab Arie’s arm and pull her to her feet. “Come on. I don’t pay for priority boarding just so I can get jammed through the line like cattle. Besides, we need to get Chloe settled. This is her first flight too, so you can figure out how to toughen up together.”
Chloe just grins and looks at Arie like she’s the silliest person in the world, which I find endlessly amusing. I have to practically drag Arie to the gate, and when we get there, it’s up to me to hand the ticket agent all of our information.
“Welcome, Mr. Cochran? And do you have your wife and daughter’s tickets as well?”
That snaps Arie back to reality. “I’m not his wife. Not. His. Wife. Arie Blanchard. Do you need my passport? I have my passport. But if there is any kind of problem with the ticket, I’m sure it’s not too late for me to go home.”
I roll my eyes, but the agent just grins, as if she’s seen this a million times before. “No problem, Miss Blanchard. When you get into your seat, let your flight attendant know that Angela said to give you the ‘knuckler special.’ You’ll thank me later.”
Arie looks suspicious, but it distracts her enough that I can push her down the jet way and into her seat. As I watch her grab hold of the armrests, her fingers turning white from a death grip, I can’t help but chuckle.
It’s going to be a very long day.
Arie
I’m still not sure what the “knuckler special” is, but the gate agent was right. I want to thank her. The first-class flight attendant brought me a drink that I chugged down as soon as we got in our seats, and within minutes, I felt like I was flying high on something other than an airplane. I looked over at Pierce with a grin once we were airborne, and let out a long, lazy sigh.
“Flying isn’t so bad.”
But what I thought I said isn’t what came out. It sounded more like, “Fwazing imnt to blarb.” Pierce just laughed at me and patted my arm.
“Go to sleep, little stoner.”
The next thing I knew, I woke up and we were in Los Angeles, rushing to make the flight to Sydney. Chloe was a trooper the whole time, napping and playing with her toys, drinking her juice and munching happily on snacks provided by the attendants, all of whom fell in love with her. I stayed drugged on the magic knuckler potion the entire time, and before I know it, Pierce is gently shaking my arm.
“We’re landing, Arie, and I need to drop you two straight at the hotel and go right to our new office. The plane is late getting in and I don’t have time to piss around. Will you be conscious enough to look after Chloe?”
I stretch and cross my eyes, then let my tongue loll out of my mouth, before laughing. “I’m fine, Pierce. We’ll get unpacked at the hotel and then go look for some food. Don’t worry about us.”
An hour later, we are at a boutique hotel on High Street, and Chloe and I are sitting in a living room in a loft suite, watching Pierce run back out the door. As always, she is impervious to change. I am perpetually in awe of my little girl’s ability to roll with the punches and adapt to any situation. Meanwhile, I have no idea what time, or day, it is, I’m starving, tired for no reason, and suddenly can’t remember what side of the road they drive on in New Zealand.
God, I hope I don’t have to drive us anywhere.
Chloe and I spend the day walking up and down the High Street, checking out the shops and the food, and eating samples of anything anyone will give us (mostly because Chloe is so adorable). Pierce didn’t give us any money before he left, and I certainly don’t have any, so we’re relying on the kindness of strangers, and it turns out that strangers in New Zealand are exceptionally kind. By the time the sun starts to set, and it begins to get really chilly, I decide to take us back to the hotel. If Pierce is going to be working all night, I figure we can eat at the restaurant in the lobby and charge it to the room. He can’t be mad about that, right?
We head back to the hotel room, and when I open the door, I almost have a heart attack. Standing in an elegant suit, holding a single flower.
“What do you say to a night on the town?”
Pierce
When I get to our new CSL offices in a beautiful classic building on High Street, just up the road from hotel, I am utterly shocked at what I find. I expected to show up to an empty block of cubicles, or a loft space that hadn’t been furnished yet, since our plans for opening up in Auckland had been fairly last minute. Instead, into a huge, beautiful office space with vaulted ceilings and exposed beams, polished wood floors, a Victorian-designed interior, and an open work space complete with a vintage pool table. There is a “boss’s office” off the back, but the sliding doors are mostly glass and rich antique wood, giving it an accessible feel that nothing in our building in New York has. Even the bathrooms are state-of-the-art, with showers and changing rooms, making them perfect for long work nights or employees returning from extended trips.
We still haven’t hired anyone to work here, or cover the office full time; that is one of the tasks my father has assigned me while we’re in Auckland. Our first clients are due in an hour, and without a receptionist, that means I have to cover everything myself. I don’t mind, but it doesn’t look terribly professional for me to answering the phone and welcoming clients myself. For a moment, I consider calling Arie and having her pretend to be my secretary, just for the day, but then I decide she and Chloe are better off having a day to themselves.
I barely have time to log into the computer and confirm the client meeting before two men from the New Zealand government are standing outside the sliding door, looking grim and serious. I try to remain as calm as possible as I greet them.
“Gentlemen! You must be from the consulate. My name is Pierce Cochran, and I am Head of Overseas Logistics and Security Maintenance. I will be coordinating all of your initial planning with CSL until the office is organized.”
The men each take a seat across from the desk without me offering. The taller of the two hands me a business card. “My name is Spencer James, and the formalities are unnecessary. We are very well-acquainted with the world Cochran Securities does, and we wouldn’t be here if we weren’t prepared to sign with you today. There is just one caveat.”
I lean across the desk. “I’m listening.”
“We need very… focused attention. And it will require full-time concentration from someone who knows the industry inside and out. So, we are hoping that you will consider relocating to Auckland and handing the project yourself.”
I sit back, not sure I just heard him correctly. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that? You want me to do what?”
The short, round fellow scootches forward in his seat and holds out his hand, but doesn’t offer me a name or a business card. “Mr. Cochran, we’re not really from the consulate. We’re not at liberty to say what our business is until you agree to our terms. But when my associate says we need someone with a special set of skills, a history in the industry, and a reputation for being a standup guy, assume those terms are non-negotiable. Our business requires discretion, concentration, and talent. We’ve done our homework and we know you are the man for the job. Now all we
need is assurance that your attentions will be entirely on us, here, full-time, and the contract is yours. And Mr. Cochran?”
“Yes?” I respond trying to hide all of the nervous energy that is bubbling up inside of me.
“Trust me when I say, you and your company want this contract.” He reaches into his pocket and pull out a piece of paper, then slides it across the desk. I pick it up, look at it, and don’t understand.
“What is this? An account number?”
They laugh. “No, Mr. Cochran. That’s how much we’ll pay you.”
My jaw drops.
“Per five-year contract. At the end of every five years, we’ll reevaluate our situation, and if we’re all happy with how things are going, we will re-up. With a .5% increase in payment.”
I sink down into my chair like the I’m a balloon that has just been popped. This is too good to be true! This is… oh, shit. This is too good to be true.
“Is what you do illegal? Is that why we’re going through all the pretext? Because if you’re operating some sort of illegal business, I can’t and I won’t get my family involved.” I am actually confident my father would take the money regardless, but I’m not my father. The men just laugh and shake their heads.
“On the contrary, Mr. Cochran, what we do is quite the opposite of illegal. But that is for another time. Please, consider our offer. And then, call the number on that card. We’ll give you twenty-four hours to think it over.”
The men quickly get up, shake my hand, and then walk out the door before I can say anything else. And I’m left standing in the office, staring at the payment offer they left on my desk, trying not to cry from happiness. If I pulled in an account this big, Dad would have to let me do whatever I wanted. Go wherever I wanted. If I wanted to leave Manhattan, and start a new life in New Zealand with Chloe, for that amount of corporate profits? No way he’s going to tell me no. Chloe is still young enough that a move this big won’t mean much to her. If anything, it will help her fully leave behind whatever memories she might have the life she had before she came to me. I try not to think of it too often, how bad it must have been for her until she got to me. Auckland would be a fresh start.
