Caged and Tamed, page 4
He touched his side. “I’m not making you part of this.”
“I’ve been part of your life since the day you were born, just like you mess with mine.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her heart aching, she looked for signs of a fast food restaurant. Her brother would kill to protect her unless Caleb jumped into the middle of things. The two were enemies and she was caught in the middle.
No, she wasn’t. Ricky was first in her mind and heart while the detective hadn’t so much as gotten a glimpse of what was beneath her surface. He didn’t care about anything except preventing the mafia from taking over the city. That included having her brother charged and convicted, put away if that’s what it took.
“I’m sorry about Konga,” she said. “You two were close.”
“I don’t know why they went after him.” Ricky turned his attention to the passing businesses.
“Yes, you do. Nothing happens in the organization without a reason.”
“So?”
“I hate it when you say stuff like that. Is one segment of the operation specifically interested in you?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Ricky spoke without moving his lips.
“Stop closing up. You know how I hate that.” She slammed her fist against the steering wheel.
“Stay out of it.”
“We’ve been down that road. You know I can’t.”
“The hell you can’t. You’re the only member of this so-called family who hasn’t been tainted.”
Not really. And her beloved brother knew it.
“This might be the only meal I get today,” she said. “I don’t want a drive-through. Besides, I want to look you in the eye.”
“I figured you did.” Ricky pointed at a family-style restaurant with so many bushes between the street and parking area she could barely see the lot.
Nodding, she turned on her signal and exited the boulevard. Ricky wouldn’t have picked a sit-down place if he wasn’t willing to talk to her. Despite what had happened last night, he felt confident about being seen in public. Maybe he didn’t care about his life.
She waited until they were seated and had ordered drinks. Judging by how her butt felt, she’d have to stand from time to time.
“The officer who arrested you,” she started, “he tried to get you to ID your attackers, right?”
“He tried. I didn’t say a damn thing.”
“But you know who they are.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah.” He used his fork to poke holes through his napkin.
“Tell me.” She kept her voice at a whisper.
When he didn’t respond, she forced herself to wait while their drinks were delivered. “It has to involve Ethan Crowl,” she said. “It doesn’t matter that he’s been convicted, you’re still working for him.”
“The godfather’s still in charge. Prison didn’t change anything.”
Ethan Crowl’s arrest and conviction had been in the headlines for months. Local politicians assured the public that separating the mafia head from the organization had seriously harmed the crime organization’s ability to intimidate people, break laws, and add to its wealth via enterprises that ranged from drug dealing to illegal gambling.
“Who do you report to these days?” No matter that she didn’t want to go there, she thought about the cards Detective Caleb had given her. They were in what passed for her purse. “How many layers are between you and Ethan?”
Alarmed, Ricky looked around. The customers were ordinary people, elderly couples, young families with small children, four middle-aged women celebrating something that called for a lot of laughter and wine.
“What do you care?”
“Shit. Stop it.”
“Crap, sis, you swear more than I do.”
“You give me enough reason.”
He grinned. The gesture took her back to when he was a boy and their lives held promise. “I do my best,” he told her.
“You’ve succeeded. Do you have direct contact with Ethan?”
“Not face to face.”
But her brother obeyed the godfather, damn it. “Among other things Ethan was tied to the murder of a racecar driver he employed. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t involve myself with his motives.”
“Because that way you don’t have to acknowledge how much of an asshole he is. I followed the trial. The dead driver’s brother is a cop. Ethan made a mistake when he decided to make the driver pay with his life for disobeying him.”
“That’s just shit the DA’s office came up with.”
“It worked. Ethan should have realized cops don’t quit when a crime involves one of their own.” Is that what pushes Caleb, she couldn’t help but think.
“Mr. Crowl wanted to change lawyers, get some who knew what they were doing, but it was too late. If he’d had decent representation he wouldn’t have been convicted.”
It bothered her that Ricky cared more about his employer’s inability to stay out of prison than the death of a young man. Didn’t he see the comparison with himself? Maybe Officer Caleb Roth would have more luck getting through to him.
“You haven’t answered my question. Are you jumping through Ethan’s hoops?” They could simply be having a meal together. She didn’t need to be pushing him, to do what a hard-eyed detective had ordered her to. So why was she? “The chain of command makes its way directly to you?”
“I’m loyal. Unlike…”
“Unlike whoever knifed you and Konga. That’s what you were going to say.”
“Maybe. All right, what if I was? There’s nothing wrong with loyalty.”
There was when devotion was tied to a man without morals. She’d followed what she could of Ethan’s career in part because she didn’t trust Ricky to give her the details. Until Caleb had stormed into her world, she hadn’t needed any more reason. Now feeling sensations she didn’t want to acknowledge in parts of her body she wanted to ignore, she knew that had changed. Damn the big, strong cop.
As far at the public was concerned, Ethan Crowl was a successful businessman who was involved with a number of enterprises. He gave to charities and belonged to several volunteer organizations that benefitted the disadvantaged.
Beneath the surface, he controlled the flow of a considerable percentage of the drugs that came into the state. He didn’t do the dirty work of course. He had a large number of men under him, layers of mafia members who she understood were loyal to whoever was at the top. As a picciotto or low-level soldier, Ricky was one of those expected to do whatever they were ordered to do.
A few years ago Ethan had married a famous actress who, according to the gossip blogs, had divorced him after he was charged with Nate Risinger’s murder. The actress’s daughter, Lainey Stanfield, had been vital when it came to passing vital information about Ethan’s illegal activities onto the DA’s office. The story was she’d fallen in love with Joe Risinger, the detective who’d vowed to take Ethan off the street once as he’d determined that Ethan had ordered his kid brother’s killing.
Mia wished she knew where Ethan’s stepdaughter lived because she’d send Lainey flowers or make sure she got the keys to the city. If, somehow, she met Lainey, she might ask how she knew she was in love with Joe and Joe with her because something like that had never happened to her. It probably never would.
Did Joe Risinger and Caleb Roth know each other? Maybe both officers were united in their determination to cut the head off the mafia.
There were missing pieces to the Ethan saga such as rumors about an activity or enterprise he’d been setting up when he was arrested plus indications that a mysterious individual had provided a secret location where Lainey and Joe grew to first trust and then love each other. Apparently that someone understood the mafia’s inner workings in ways no outsider could. When the cops refused to elaborate on what appeared in the newspapers and on the news, she’d asked Ricky what he knew.
“The godfather has enemies.” He’d shrugged. “Bastards who want what he has.”
“So. Do you think Ethan knows who the media is referencing?” she’d pressed. “Maybe someone within the organization?”
Her brother hated it when she called Ethan by his first name instead of showing respect, which was why she did it. When she got under her brother’s skin, he sometimes revealed more than he’d intended to. What she’d learned was that Ethan could and did point fingers at mafia members he’d never turn his back on. Ricky had hinted he’d played a role in intimidating at least one of Mr. Crowl’s enemies, but he might have been bluffing.
Ricky hadn’t been able to satisfy her curiosity about the shadowy man beyond acknowledging that he pissed off some mafia members because he took pleasure in complicating their lives. He was, every mafia member Ricky had talked to agreed, a damn pit bull.
Today, thinking about what little she knew about the mystery figure, she concluded that Caleb Roth was a lot like that pit bull.
What might happen if the two worked together? If Joe Risinger and other cops joined them?
“I’m not asking you to give me names,” she said in response to what Ricky said about loyalty and otherwise, “but you know who came after you and Konga, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Do they answer to Ethan?”
“Hell, no.” His eyes wide, he looked around. “Don’t ever say that. The godfather knows I’d die for him.”
That bastard isn’t worth your life. Can’t you see that? “Despite our parents, you’re still proving yourself in the organization. I’m guessing it was the same for Konga. Why would anyone want either of you out of the way?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I get that.”
She waited while their meal was delivered. No surprise, Ricky had opted for the largest cheeseburger on the menu plus double fries. She’d chosen a tuna melt but was having second thoughts because she’d lost her appetite.
“Ten years,” Ricky muttered around his third bite. “That’s how long Mr. Crowl got.” He brightened. “His new lawyers are fighting to get the conviction overturned.”
“But right now he’s behind bars, Konga’s dead, and you’re looking over your shoulder.” She put down her sandwich. “You really didn’t see that coming?”
“It isn’t supposed to be like this. They’re supposed to be loyal.”
“Who is?”
“Don’t. I’m not falling for that.”
But you might if I say the right things. Or if Caleb does.
While Ricky ate and she pretended to, her brother explained that Mr. Crowl’s conviction had deeply rattled San Diego’s mafia. A large number, him included, remained loyal to the godfather. However, he finally admitted, a handful of underbosses were taking advantage of the godfather’s absence by trying to grow their own enterprises. Each underboss had enough soldiers at their command to constitute serious threats to those who didn’t follow them.
“Then there’s fighting?” she asked. “Jockeying for position and money within those enterprises.”
“Unfortunately.”
She nodded. “I remember Mom and Dad saying that happens when a boss is incapacitated, killed, or imprisoned but not always the prison aspect, which is what Ethan is trying to prove. Here’s what I think happened. The disloyal underbosses work closely with a caporegime who in turn tells the soldiers what expected of them. Soldiers are responsible for the attack on you and Konga. You two were targeted because you’re aligned with Ethan.”
“Maybe.”
Fighting the crazy impulse to bring Caleb into things so Ricky would realize that at least certain members of law enforcement had a stake in what was going on inside the mafia and how dangerous it was, she snagged a tomato slice from Ricky’s plate and popped it in her mouth.
“What was Ethan working on when he was arrested?” she asked. “I’m thinking it was something new and potentially lucrative. Otherwise why this determination to take control?”
Ricky lightly pressed his hand to his side. “You don’t want to know.”
She shook her head. Her life wasn’t a nightmare but it wouldn’t take much to turn it into one. “I knew you’d say that, but you have the answer I need. Seriously, I won’t give up until you tell me.”
“Why do you care?” He pointed a fry at her like it was a knife.
“Wrong question. You know why I give a damn. We have or had the same parents.”
“Fuck you.” He lowered the fry.
“The way I see it, you might be switching loyalties yourself if Ethan didn’t have something big to offer. Look, we wouldn’t be having lunch together if you didn’t need to spill your guts. What is it?”
He stabbed the fry with his fork.
“You won’t like it.”
She shifted positions, winced. Remembered why her ass felt like it did. Damn you, Roth. You’re the last thing I want to think about, now or ever. “I haven’t liked a lot of things for a long time.”
“This doesn’t concern you.”
She grabbed the fry and smashed it under her thumb. “The hell it doesn’t.”
And not just me. A dogged cop.
“Drop it, sis. Please.”
Blinking back tears, she handed him one of the cards Caleb had given her. “Even if you can’t bring yourself to talk to me, please think about getting in touch with him.”
Ricky frowned at the card. “Who’s this?”
“The cop who brought you to the hospital. I, ah, I talked to him after. He knows a lot but he needs more.”
“What about you?” her brother demanded. “Do you think you can handle it?”
I have no choice.
* * *
“How does he know all this?”
Caleb waited to answer until he and Joe had left the apartment where Konga had lived. The disgusted landlord had wanted to know who the hell was going to clean up the dump he’d been trying to evict Konga and his girlfriend from. So far Caleb hadn’t located the girlfriend, but even if he did, he wasn’t inclined to help the landlord. Obviously the man hadn’t done a decent job investigating prospective tenants.
“I can’t answer that,” he told Joe. “Korbin has people whose jobs include monitoring our scanners. He has contacts at every hospital in the city. If something involves or remotely involves the mafia, he hears about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows where we are right now.”
“Shit.” Joe kicked an overflowing trash can. It rocked but remained upright. “But without him I might not have figured out who was responsible for my brother’s murder. He’s everywhere.”
“Not really but close. From the first I told you that Korbin Aldrich knows how things are done and how to get a lot accomplished. He probably has a file on Konga. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s more extensive than what we have on that dirty little picciotto.”
“Former picciotto. Currently at the morgue.” Joe grunted. “Did you get anywhere with what’s his name, the kid who was with him?”
“Not as much as I wanted to,” Caleb reluctantly admitted. “His sister bailed him out. It’s anyone’s guess where he is now.”
“Sister.” Joe adjusted his duty belt. “You’d think she wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe what’s his name is with her.”
“Ricky,” Caleb supplied. He came too close to telling his fellow detective the sister’s name and where she lived. What her ass looked and felt like. “She’s one of the nurses who worked on Konga.”
“I remember. She can’t be crazy about who her brother associates with.” Joe grunted again. “I’ll never understand family dynamics. They can be so screwed up. I mean here she is with a legitimate career while her brother’s on a fast track to spending the rest of his life in prison. Their folks probably feel the same way about the one who went wrong.”
“Her old man’s dead.”
“Oh.” Joe had been looking at the neighbors who were studying them. “How do you know this? When did you have the time to—”
“I talked to her. At her place.”
“Really?” Joe gave him a sideways look. “I’m sure she was delighted to see you. How is she handling Konga’s death and how it reflects on her brother?”
“Hard to tell.”
Caleb shook his head as a scraggly cat darted across the street, which was clogged with illegally parked cars. No matter that he’d lived in San Diego for most of his life, he’d never get used to there being so many people. If he had one percent of the amount of money at Korbin’s disposal, he’d buy a boat with a cabin and live in it. He’d spend summers in Alaska, winters in Mexico.
By himself.
Or with Hanna if his sister were still alive.
“Did she tell you anything we need?”
He debated telling Joe more than the essentials but during the time they’d worked together, they’d revealed things about their private lives it was possible no one else knew. Learning they’d each lost a sibling in a violent fashion played a large role in the connection.
“Not yet.”
“But she might?”
“I hope so.”
“You encouraged her?”
“You might say that.”
When Joe whistled, Caleb had no doubt Joe was thinking about what he’d shared with him regarding how he’d dealt with Lainey at the start of their relationship. As Ethan Cowl’s stepdaughter, Lainey was on the inside track when it came to how the mafia boss ran the organization. Joe hadn’t believed he had a choice when it came to encouraging her. He’d taken the reluctant-to-talk woman to Korbin’s secret place. By the time he’d subjected her to a series of forceful techniques, not only had he spanked her into submission, she given Joe large chunks of the information he needed to avenge his kid brother’s murder. The brass would never condone his methods, at least not in public, but the bottom line was Ethan Crowl was in prison, Nate hadn’t died in vain, and Joe and Lainey were committed to each other.
Relationships indeed worked in mysterious ways.
“Mia might charge you with assault,” Joe said. “I had to consider that when I was deciding how to handle Lainey.”
“I don’t think she will but if she does, you’ll hear about it.”
