by Matt Lincoln
“This is the exciting part!” George collected his papers and snapped his briefcase shut. “Enjoy it. I can’t wait to find out you’ve seen it through.”
The two men shook hands, and Tessa walked him out to the door. On the way out, Bonnie waved enthusiastically, and when Tessa returned to the living room, Bonnie looked like she was about to burst.
“Grendel’s journal?!” she screamed after Tessa had resumed her perch by Ethan’s feet. “This is huge!”
“You’re not kidding,” Ethan agreed, allowing himself to sink deeper into the couch cushions now that the meeting was over. A small smile flitted across his face. “I’m still stunned.”
“I can’t wait to read it,” Tessa gushed, turning to look at Ethan’s content face. “I can’t imagine the stories it contains.”
Ethan paused for a moment, the smile still stuck on his face. He kept his eyes locked onto hers. “Thank you,” he said softly. As Tessa gazed into his eyes, she knew he meant it with all his heart.
Chapter 31: Ethan
Dinner was supposed to be a fancy ordeal, but our injuries had kept us stuck at the house. We all knew that Farr was having it catered, but we hadn’t quite expected the level of extravagance that came along with it.
When dinnertime approached, Farr’s phone rang, and after a few grunts and muttered monosyllabic words, he ushered everyone into the living room and instructed us to stay there. It had been frustrating enough to be trapped on the couch all day, but now I had the entire team hovering over me awkwardly. I craned my neck to see what Farr was up to as he opened the front doors wide.
“Franco!” he boomed. “Come on in.”
I caught a sneak peek of a white van outside, and a parade of servers dressed all in black came filing in through the doorway, each carrying a tray of food or a box of supplies. They gathered in the kitchen and dining room, clearing away our mess and making space for all of their equipment.
“Wow,” Header quipped from across the room. “This is impressive. I thought we’d be getting meals in styrofoam containers.”
“Yeah, this is a step up from the takeout we’ve been getting,” I observed with a smirk. Leave it to Farr to go above and beyond with the post-mission celebration.
As the crew finished setting up, the aroma of well-seasoned steak and potatoes wafted into the living room. One of the servers opened several bottles of wine and set them up at even intervals along the center of the dining room table. They moved quickly, and within minutes, we had a restaurant-worth setup in our dining room.
“Dinner is served,” the head waiter announced, gesturing for us to make our way into the dining room.
We all gathered around the table for our last meal together before we were scheduled to board the plane in the morning. Header and I needed some help to get to the table, but although the chair was a bit uncomfortable in my current state, I wasn’t about to complain. When we all lifted our full wine glasses to toast our success, the warmth of success flooded my chest, and I couldn’t feel more proud.
“Before we dive into our meals,” Farr announced suddenly, “I was told to pick something up as a favor to Header.” His voice was dripping with disdain, which made me a bit suspicious.
Header pumped his fist in victory and chuckled behind his glass as he took a long sip.
“That’s never a good thing,” I pointed out. “What did you pick up?”
“It’s for you,” Farr admitted. His tone was flat and unexpressive, which, combined with Header’s laughing, meant that whatever Header’s favor had been, it was meant to be a joke, and would probably be at my expense.
“Of course it is,” I sighed. Farr reached down into a brown paper bag and pulled out a chintzy white coffee mug. On the face of the mug was the all-too-familiar I Love New York logo.
“Oh, geez,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.
“I couldn’t let you leave New York without a souvenir,” Header teased.
I shook my head. “You’re seriously injured, and you still managed to pull this off?”
Header jerked a thumb in Farr’s direction. “I have friends in low places.”
Now it was Farr’s turn to roll his eyes. Beside us, Tessa and Bonnie were both giggling at the entire exchange.
“Well, thanks,” I muttered. “Now, every time I see this logo, I’ll just be reminded of how annoying you are.”
“I’m happy to help,” Header laughed. “If that’s what happens, then it was completely worth it.”
Farr handed the mug over to Header, and Header reached over and snatched up my wine glass. He carefully poured the wine into the mug and handed it to me. I reluctantly took the mug, taking a slow sip. Header cheered, causing the rest of the table to laugh along with him. I rolled my eyes dramatically at him and set the mug down where my glass used to be. I knew from experience that resisting would only make the situation worse.
The laughter was starting to die down when my phone rang. When I glanced down and saw Holm’s number, I immediately excused myself from the table. It took a bit of effort, but I managed to walk through the living room to sit on the couch before I answered the phone.
“Holm,” I breathed. “How are you doing?”
“Eh, I’ll live,” he chuckled. “The hospital food sucks. When are you coming home?”
“Tomorrow,” I informed him. “It looks like things are settling down. I’ll be by your side before you know it.”
“I know you will,” he assured me. “Listen, I just got a call from my sister.”
“Oh, really?” I asked, surprised that she had reached out to him. She’d been flying under the radar lately, although, with recent events, she may have beaten me to the punch on telling Holm the big news.
“Yeah, I was surprised to hear from her,” Holm admitted. “She said that apparently all of the Mezzanotte head bosses were found dead in the Hamptons. Something about a major break-in that could have only been pulled off by professionals…” Holm’s pause was telling. “Marston, you’re a professional.”
I burst into laughter. “Listen, brother, I have a lot to fill you in on, but all of this is best suited for an in-person conversation.”
Holm snorted into the phone. “Okay. If you insist. You do know what this means, though, right?”
“Safety?” I guessed accurately.
“Safety,” he agreed with confidence. “Safety for Ronnie and Mom and Dad, too. This is a major win.”
I could hear the relief in Holm’s voice as he spoke those words, and I knew that the fight to get here had been worth every single wound I bore.
“You said all of the bosses are dead?” I clarified, realizing suddenly what Holm had said. “Are they sure no one is missing?”
“I am completely certain that they killed them all,” Holm replied happily. “We’re definitely safe.”
“I’ve been waiting to hear those words for the longest time,” I admitted, my voice coming out in a rush. “I couldn’t be more relieved.”
“Me too,” Holm whispered. “Thank you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insisted. “See you tomorrow?”
“You know where to find me,” he pointed out.
I hung up the phone and sat on the couch for a long moment, absorbing the conversation. After spending so much time worrying about Holm and his family, it felt like a victory unto itself, simply hearing him say those words.
My partner was safe.
“Hey, Marston, stop daydreaming! You’re holding up the works!” Header’s voice snapped me back to the present, and I shoved my phone into my pocket and pushed myself back up to my feet.
I hobbled my way back to the table just as Farr was standing up to make an announcement.
“I’m still keeping tabs on the funding cut situation,” Farr informed us. “Without the pressure of the bosses and another politician to favor-trade with though, Whittington should be letting up on the cuts. We will know if it worked fairly quickly, so keep an eye out for that.”
“In the spirit of good news,” he announced, “Rosa and Doc have successfully killed the new cocaine operation down in the Dominican Republic. The president is safe, and the chances of it popping back up are slim to none since we killed the people responsible.”
“That is great news!” Bonnie cheered, and Warner and Tessa had matching ear-to-ear grins.
“To add to that, I just got off the phone with Holm,” I announced to the table, keeping the momentum going. “According to his sister, every single mob boss died in the Hamptons.”
Header straightened up in his seat. “All of them?”
“All of them,” I confirmed. A hush fell over the table, followed by the excited chatter of everyone speaking at once.
“That’s amazing news!” Tessa gushed beside me.
“It is,” I beamed. “It means Holm and his entire family should be safe now. I can’t express how happy that makes me.”
“I know,” she crooned, resting her hand on mine. God, I wanted to kiss her right then and there.
Dinner resumed amidst a ton of joyful chitchat. Farr had ordered a bunch of filet mignons, and the sounds of chewing filled the few lulls in conversation. Everything smelled and tasted heavenly, and I devoured all of it.
When we were all drunk, stuffed, and happy, we migrated back over to the living room, where Tessa helped ease me back onto the couch. The servers began swiftly cleaning up in the kitchen, but they periodically swept through the living room to top off everyone’s wine glasses.
When I was settled against the cushions, Tessa sat beside me and sighed in satisfaction.
“This isn’t the way I envisioned our last evening together,” I groaned into her ear as she reached behind me to fluff a pillow.
“Shh,” she insisted, holding a finger to her lips. “None of that matters. I’m glad that you’re okay. You’ll just…”
“I’ll just what?” I asked, cupping her face in the palms of my hands. Her voice had faded off at the end of her sentence, and she’d sounded unsure.
She rolled her shoulders back with feigned confidence. “You’ll just have to make another trip back up to see me.” She paused for another moment before continuing. “I’d prefer we didn’t get shot next time, though. As exciting as a shootout might be, I think a nice, normal dinner date would be a nice change.”
I chuckled and pulled her in for a long kiss.
“I’ll do my best,” I assured her. “I can’t make any promises, though.”
Tessa giggled and looked over at me with wide eyes. I hated these last moments. They were always filled with pangs of sadness and a strong desire to make each moment last as long as possible. It was a lot of pressure that was packed into a short time frame.
“I’ll come back soon,” I assured her. “I’m sure these successes have earned me some additional vacation days.”
She giggled again and rested her head on my chest. As I breathed in the smell of her hair, I wished I could have just a bit more time with her, and I vowed to put those vacation days to good use.
Chapter 32: Holm
“Robbie Holm?”
A young nurse walked into my hospital room, looking down at her clipboard instead of up at me. I hadn’t seen her before now, so I could understand the question. I waited for her to look up at me before responding.
“That would be me,” I grinned.
“You’re going home today, Mr. Holm.” She set down her clipboard and walked purposefully over to the side of my bed. She continued to speak as she checked my vitals. “When Dr. Rodriguez does her final check this evening, she will be signing your discharge papers.”
“Thank you,” I replied softly.
“Do you have a support team in place for when you get home?” She smiled kindly at me.
“I do,” I nodded. “I’m planning on heading to my parents’ place. They probably miss me.”
“Not as much as I do.” I recognized Marston’s voice before I even looked up. He stood in the doorway, one arm in a sling and a cane in his hand. His skin was bruised, and he had deep bags under his eyes.
“Holy crap, Marston. You look like hell.” I pushed myself up into a seated position as I took in his appearance.
“You don’t look much better,” he teased, hobbling over to the other side of my bed.
“Hey, I look fantastic.” I chuckled and turned to the nurse. “Tell him that I look fantastic.” The nurse giggled shyly as she collected her things.
“You look better than he does,” she murmured before rushing out of the room.
“You scared her off,” Marston teased. He hooked his cane on the back of the nearby chair and pulled it closer to the bed. As he eased himself down on the chair, I began to realize the extent of his injuries.
“You’re in bad shape,” I pointed out unhelpfully. “Is this one of those times where you tell me I should see the other guys?”
Marston burst into laughter. “You’ve seen the other guys.”
I raised an eyebrow as I realized what he was implying.
“The professional hit,” I breathed. “The mob bosses… That was you.”
“Header helped,” he admitted. “Plus, there were these two other guys who… Well, they helped.”
“Jake Header was with you?” I shook my head in disbelief. “You asked him for help and not me.”
“Holm,” he sighed, a note of exasperation in his voice. “It wasn’t my call. Farr coordinated it. It was a small crew, and you were too exposed. We needed to keep you safe.”
“Well…” I gestured down to my thin hospital gown. “You did a piss-poor job.”
“Are your parents okay?” he asked, ignoring my comment.
I nodded, looking down at my hands in my lap. “Yes, they’re completely fine. My mom is mad at my dad for not telling her about the added security measures. The sudden surge of law enforcement in the neighborhood set her on edge. They’re fine otherwise, though.”
Marston chuckled. “I’m glad. I’m sorry that you got the raw end of the deal, though. Still, in hindsight, I’d do everything exactly the same.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, the end result is pretty damn good.”
“We’re broken and battered, but we’re alive.” Marston punched me in my shoulder. It sent a sharp wave of pain down my arm, but I hid my grimace. I was just damn glad to have my friend back.
We spent a nice chunk of time talking about everything that had happened since my partner had left Miami. Marston told me all about his discoveries in the Searcher’s Chance log, and about the journal in Virginia that he was waiting for. The excitement in his eyes as he spoke made me so happy for him, and I couldn’t wait for him to get his hands on those journal pages.
I filled him in on my adventures, as well, from Birn’s slippery leather couch to the case that I had been doing fieldwork on before being hospitalized. When we were about done exchanging notes, Dr. Rodriguez strolled in with a huge smile on her face. She faltered at the sight of Marston, though.
“Robbie, please tell me this isn’t your support system,” she begged. I burst into laughter.
“Hell, no,” I insisted. “Although…” I turned to my partner. “Are you planning on heading back to your houseboat on your own?”
“That was the plan,” he shrugged.
I shook my head adamantly. “No. My parents have room for you, too. Also, I may need a buffer for dinner conversations now that all of this is over, and we are free to talk about it. I have a feeling the conversations will get heavy.”
Marston groaned, but there was no weight behind it.
“Please?” I chuckled.
He nodded slowly. “Yes. Thank you. The thought of doing this on my own was a bit daunting.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I teased. “You know Mom will take good care of you.”
Once Dr. Rodriguez’s concerns about our home care were alleviated, she signed my discharge papers and insisted on having both of
us wheeled out of the hospital. We thanked her for her help, but she waved it off.
“I just hope I don’t have to see either of you in here again any time soon,” she teased.
“You and us both,” Marston assured her.
The young nurse came back with a partner, and they both helped us into the wheelchairs and down to the street. Outside, Birn and Muñoz were waiting for us in front of Birn’s black Charger.
“Marston, you look like hell,” Muñoz quipped.
“I’ve heard that already,” Marston replied good-naturedly.
“No Ramsey?” I called out as Birn rushed to help me out of the wheelchair.
“It would have been a tight fit,” Muñoz pointed out. “She’s meeting us at the house.”
We piled into the car quickly, and the short ride to the Holm house was quiet and calm. When we pulled up in front of the house, though, we were greeted with cheers by both of my parents. Standing beside them was Diane Ramsey.
“You two really know how to take a beating,” Ramsey teased as she approached the door to help us out of the car. She grabbed Marston by one elbow and eased him up to standing, while Birn came around to my side. We stopped on the way into the house for long embraces by my mom and gentle claps on the back by my dad.
Once inside, Birn and Ramsey helped us get settled into the recliners. Naturally, Mom ran about pouring lemonade into her favorite floral-painted pint glasses, handing them out to all of us. After the excitement had died down a bit, Ramsey walked over to the kitchen counter and swiped the newspaper up and opened it to show us the front page.
“Have either of you seen the paper today?” she asked excitedly. We both stared at her blankly for a moment, and then I lowered my eyes to look at the front page.
“Is that Bradley Whittington?” Marston asked. The well-groomed man in a snug high-end suit smiled widely at the camera, but the headline above his head told a different story.
“Ties to New York Mob Demolish Senator’s Credibility,” I read out loud.
“Hot damn,” Marston gushed, looking up at our boss. “Is he out?”
“Not yet,” our director admitted. “I’m sure his career is toast, though. They are looking into the decisions he has made in light of these connections, as well. I’ve already been contacted about our funding.”
