by Cindi Madsen
Not seeing the story she wanted made her moody on top of her usual moodiness, so she only allowed herself to do it once a day. When they returned home from dinner, she’d do her daily search. She realized it took time to build a case, but she wanted to see Carlo Rossi’s name in print with the words “charged with” or “arrested” or whatever it took to make Vince safer.
“All I’m saying is, I think he likes you,” Deanne said. “He was staring at you yesterday at work.”
Cassie turned to Deanne, trying to connect the dots. What had they been talking about? Oh, right. Owen. “I just got out of a relationship, so I’m not really looking.”
“Hello? That definitely calls for a rebound.”
“With Maude’s grandson who we work with? That’s who you think I should rebound with?”
Two creases formed between Deanne’s eyebrows. “Good point. Okay, we’ll find you a rebound, and then after you get done with that guy, you can go for Owen.”
Cassie shook her head. The girl wasn’t very good at being steered away from an idea once she set her mind on it. It was how they ended up living together. Cassie mentioned she was staying in a motel, Deanne said she was looking for a roommate, and within two days, they were roomies.
They pulled up to Maude’s and Harold’s, and Cassie ran her thumb across the phone in her pocket. Would looking at the newspapers a few hours early be so bad?
“Are you coming or what?” Deanne asked, and Cassie reluctantly released her phone.
Fine, I’ll wait a few more hours like I’m supposed to. But when I look at you, news, you better be good.
***
The bar in New Brunswick looked like any other dive bar. Dim lighting, cluttered, undusted pictures on the wall, and a few lonely people who’d probably been sitting at the bar since it opened. To top off the abandon-all-hope vibe, a sad garbled song played through the ancient speakers.
Vince had made sure he wasn’t tailed. With most of Carlo’s men arrested, the odds were in his favor, but he didn’t believe in “too careful,” especially with everything at stake right now. The feds even took him in during the raid to help keep suspicion off of him, since he refused to jump into the witness protection program. He needed to be close so he knew what was happening. Needed to think about Bobby. A few of the other guys made bail already, but with the police watching and Carlo behind bars, everyone was on their best, most pretend-to-be-law-abiding behavior.
New Brunswick was middle ground between Trenton and FBI headquarters, and McVee and Mancini insisted they had something they needed to talk to him about.
He noticed the two feds sitting in the back corner and slid into the booth, glad for the high walls that added privacy—the last thing he needed was someone seeing him with these two. Sometimes it felt like they were trying to get him killed. “What was so important it was worth risking a meet right now?”
McVee pulled out a laptop. “We just had a couple of follow-up questions about Cassandra Dalton, and as a courtesy, we decided to meet here instead of the station.”
Vince crossed his arms and sat back. “Afraid you boys are wasting your time. I told you everything already. If you’d like me to tell you again at the station, we can do that song and dance.”
“It’s just that we got a call from a cop in Frederick, Maryland. After Cassandra went missing, we put out an APB on you and her.”
Bored expression in place, Vince continued to look across the table, but his gut churned with worry. Tell me you did a good job of getting lost, Cassie. Otherwise we’re both gonna be screwed.
Carlo’s boys were behaving for the moment, but they had plenty of contacts who’d have no problem carrying out a hit.
“We’re a bit confused by this video we got…” McVee spun the laptop screen around. A grainy image of himself and Cassie greeted Vince. The agent pushed play and Vince watched their power struggle in the bus station. There was no volume, but anyone could see they were arguing.
Then he watched himself kiss her goodbye.
Longing rose up and wound thread after thread around his heart, a slicing reminder of what he’d lost that day.
McVee paused it so the image could sit there and torture him, and said, “It would appear that Miss Dalton didn’t die from a gunshot wound.”
“Huh,” Vince said.
Both agents frowned at him. They could frown all they wanted. What were they going to do? Arrest their star witness?
McVee pushed aside his water glass and leaned his elbows on the table. “Why don’t you tell us where she is?”
“I’m sure you looked it up in their system,” Vince said, fishing for how much they knew.
“And I’m sure you know there’s not a record of a Cassandra Dalton buying a ticket. Look, we just wanna talk to her. The more witnesses we have against Carlo Rossi, the better. Let me play you something else.”
Vince’s muscles tensed as he waited to see Cassie onscreen again. Only the file McVee pulled up was an audio one. A recorded conversation between Sal and Carlo, giving the order to kill Cassie.
“What if Vince gets in the way?” Sal asked.
There was a pause, and then Carlo’s voice. “Just have him do what needs to be done.”
“That’s all the proof you need that Rossi didn’t care if you lived or died that night,” McVee said. “Don’t you want to put him away for that?”
Vince barked a laugh, and both agents looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “I was there. I nearly got shot, so I don’t need proof to tell me he gave the order to kill me if necessary. Was that really your plan? Play a recording to get me to give you information on Cassie? No wonder you didn’t get any of Carlo’s men to turn on him.”
Mancini’s nostrils flared, and his muscles coiled like he was going to leap over the table. Bring it. With the overwhelming sensation of missing Cassie tumbling through him, he could use a fight right now.
McVee put his hand on his partner’s shoulder and shot him a look that made him sit back with a scowl. “What about the fact that your father was killed because Carlo took out one of his rival’s brothers over a money dispute? Your dad’s death was a retribution killing. Did Carlo ever tell you that?”
Vince worked hard to not react, but since he hadn’t known, he probably failed.
“We know—or I guess we should say we highly suspect—he killed the guy for it, but your dad’s dead because of Carlo Rossi,” McVee said.
Shock, relief, disbelief—Vince wasn’t sure which to let overtake the others. But then he realized it didn’t change the past, or the fact that Dad knew the risks. What good would it have done to know? Would Vince have refused to move in with Carlo when he and Bobby were kids with no other place to go? Taken Bobby away from here a long time ago and prevented him from turning into a junkie? Moved away and lived a completely different life?
Maybe.
But again, it didn’t change anything. Helped a bit with the guilt and feeling like he was letting Dad down, though. “Well, now that I have this new information, I guess I’ll still testify. Good job.”
McVee ran a hand through his hair. “Cassandra could help put him—”
“If you and the US Assistant Attorney can’t put him away with what you have, you’re not very good at your jobs. I’ll never change my mind about Cassie.”
“Two buses went out at that time,” Mancini said. “We sent her picture to every stop along the way. It’s only a matter of time before someone recognizes her. We’ll keep you in the loop about it if you cooperate with us.”
Vince gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, coming dangerously close to losing his temper. “If you want my cooperation, you’ll leave her out of it. I don’t want to be responsible for getting her killed. I know you idiots think you can protect her, but I don’t have any confidence in the system. Carlo’s gotten to witnesses before, and if she dies, I have no reason to testify. She’s the only reason I even came back to help you get my uncle off the streets.”
Mancini ope
ned his mouth, and Vince talked right over whatever he was going to say. “Threats won’t work on me, so don’t bother. And the fact of the matter is, I don’t know where she went. She’s smart, and I made sure she had everything she needed to get lost for good. I couldn’t even find her if I wanted to.”
Now he was going to have to make sure that was true. If he did find her, he’d have to go and yell at her for not doing a good enough job. After he kissed her—he’d hate to be too mean.
Of course, then he’d never have the strength to walk away again. Damn that video footage, and damn these assholes for refusing to leave her in peace so she could live a normal life.
Go ahead and damn Carlo, too, for causing this to be necessary in the first place.
Vince stood, fighting the urge to use physical force on the feds so they understood just how serious he was about leaving Cassie alone. He couldn’t make sure she was safe from prison. “We’re done here. Oh, and if you want me to live long enough to testify, I’d suggest not having anymore of these pointless meetings.”
***
Maude’s family members, her next-door neighbor, Cassie, and Deanne surrounded the massive oak table in the Hurst’s dining room. Basically, if Maude met you and you didn’t have family nearby, she took you in and fed you. Instead of the crazy cat lady, she was the crazy people lady.
The amazing food and jovial conversation created a comforting cocoon around them, blocking out the rest of the world for a while. But whenever there was a lull, Cassie thought about the phone in her pocket, and how many newspapers she could pull up with a couple of taps. Yesterday she’d seen the words “several arrested” and her adrenaline had spiked, along with her hopes. The last words of the headline ended up being “in a prostitution ring,” and her hope had cracked and crashed to the ground.
“So, Katie, how’s Oklahoma comparing to Maryland?” Owen asked, and she glanced up in time for all eyes to turn to her. At least she was getting better at answering to Katie. He shot her a crooked smile. “And you might wanna remember you’re surrounded by natives.”
“Ah, so no pressure,” she said, and chuckles went around the table. “So far I’m a Tulsa fan, so no need to get out the pitchforks just yet.”
“Happy to hear it. What made you move here, anyway?”
“Your grandma.” Cassie smiled at Maude. “She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“But what made you leave Maryland in the first place? I never heard that part of the story.”
Her defenses prickled. She wanted to tell him she didn’t come over to be interrogated, but Owen’s expression held more interest and curiosity than challenge. Relax. He’s just trying to make conversation. Trying to get to know you.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. She’d always have to hide part of herself, and from now on, she needed to keep better track of every lie she told or she’d trip herself up on them. As much as being a loner sucked, it might be the way to go. The more involved she got with new people, the more complicated things became.
“I just needed a change.” Even though I didn’t want one. “A fresh start.” That was supposed to be with Vince. “And I want to get a degree in culinary arts. Platt College has a program, so I’m looking into enrolling there.”
She hoped the college topic would move them away from the why-she-came-here one, even though she couldn’t help but think of how Vince was the one to lead her to look into it. For good measure, she added, “I hear you’re going to vet school.”
Luckily that shifted the conversation, and the tension in her body eased as dinner turned back into a casual, light affair. After they pushed away from the table, Cassie snuck away to do her internet search.
She’d just pulled up the Trentonian when Maude found her. “Are you texting your man?”
Cassie lowered her phone. “I don’t have a man.”
Maude placed her hands on her hips and twisted her mouth, like she was trying to figure out how to say what she wanted to say. Since she normally blurted out whatever she thought, Cassie held her breath, waiting for whatever it was. “I’ve tried to give you time. I figured you’d come out with it sooner or later, but when are you going to tell me what happened? And when is that man going to come and make up with you?”
“I told you. I’m never going to see him again.” Once again, she was reconsidering her move here. As much as she hated to leave such a nice situation, maybe she should move on before she got any deeper.
“Oh, I don’t buy that. You keep forgetting I was there when you said goodbye.”
“’Goodbye’ being the operative word. He was in town on business when we met. Our relationship progressed quickly.” Cassie paused, thinking of how she could put it. “I found out later that he hadn’t exactly been truthful the whole time. He had to go back to take care of his family, and I felt like I couldn’t truly start over unless I found a new place where our memories together wouldn’t constantly drag me down.”
Anger flickered across Maude’s features, and Cassie tried to figure out what she’d said that could’ve caused such a strong reaction. “His family? You mean he was married already? Did he have kids?”
Cassie wanted to say, “Of course not!” But then she realized the questions about Vince would stop if she let Maude believe the conclusion she’d jumped to. “I was heartbroken when I found out. They were separated when we first met, but…well, he felt he owed it to his kids to give it another shot.”
Guilt ran through her—over lying to Maude and saying anything bad about the guy who saved her life again and again, and had gone back to do it one more time.
Maude pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. “I had no idea. Don’t worry. You’ll find someone else.”
“Thanks. And thanks for taking me in. It helps to have some friends.”
“Well, you’ve got some. Now, let’s get dessert. That’ll make everything better.”
Cassie hadn’t known Maude long, but she was quickly realizing that she thought there was nothing dessert couldn’t fix.
If only she were right, life would be so much easier.
As Maude headed to the kitchen, Cassie took the opportunity to finish her news search. Her eyes skimmed down the headlines. She was so used to not seeing anything that she nearly missed it. But there, on the right side, under the most popular heading was the thing she’d longed to see ever since her missing memories came back.
FBI ARREST FIFTEEN MAFIA SUSPECTS, INCLUDING ALLEGED NEW JERSEY MAFIA BOSS, CARLO ROSSI…
Chapter Thirty-Eight
This waiting stuff was bullshit. The New Jersey prison didn’t have him in an orange jumpsuit, but the tan colored one wasn’t much better. He liked his clothes on the tailored, expensive side, with fabric that caressed instead of irritated, and right now he looked like a sack of potatoes.
He could hardly believe he was stuck in prison, bail denied. He’d always disposed of witnesses. He was beyond careful. Someone ratted, obviously, and he wanted to take care of him before this became his permanent residence. Problem was, too many of his boys had been arrested.
Last time Allegra visited, he asked her to get ahold of Vince and have him come in. He was the only one of his guys who didn’t have a rap sheet a mile long and hadn’t been charged with the RICO Act. Right now, Carlo was glad his nephew had kept his nose clean. In order to have a chance of getting out of here, Vince needed to get his hands dirty.
I hate this hamster-trapped-in-a-fucking-wheel feeling.
The door swung open with a screech of metal against metal, and Ufizzi strolled in. Between his bald head, hooked nose, and scrawny build, the guy reminded him of Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. But his lawyer got him and his boys out of trouble again and again, so while he might not look tough, he was a viper in court.
“I know you didn’t fight the expedited trial date the DA pushed for at your arraignment, but I could file a motion to extend. I really think—”
“That what? I should rot in here for a few more years before I
get a trial? I want it over with as soon as possible. Just do your job, and get me the hell out of here.” Luckily his reputation meant the other inmates left him alone. He even had a few protecting him and sneaking him cigars. Just to be safe, he spent his free time working out. He’d been having too many dinners and desserts at the restaurant, but a month in here and his gut was quickly shrinking.
“Fine, we’ll just get to it, then.” Uffizi rattled off the charges Carlo was already well aware of, but they stung all over again. Sometimes he thought Uffizi read them every meeting so he could add more billable hours.
Considering his frozen assets, it was going to be a problem soon, especially since Allegra had dipped into his stash for “under duress shopping.” To hear her tell it, she had it worse than he did.
“Just get to the witness list,” Carlo said.
“We’re still in the discovery process, which is why—”
“I swear if you suggest putting off the trial again, I’ll reach across the table and smack you.” It’d almost be worth the guard coming in and cutting the meeting short.
Uffizi pouted for a moment before pulling files out of his briefcase. “As for how they found the body of Eduardo Alvarez, there’s no witness statement, just that a confidential informant led them there. I’ll fight to get the identity disclosed and I’ll win, but they’ll probably wait until the thirty-days-before-trial mark, just because they can.”
So not for a couple more months. Thirty days was still plenty of time to off someone, although Carlo didn’t want to wait that long. “I want you to find out who their informant is, and I want it done yesterday.”
Uffizi nodded and then said, “I’ve been building a long list of character witnesses. There are a lot of people willing to testify about what a generous man you’ve been to them and their community. You contributed the funds to build that extra wing in the high school. That’ll look good.”
