The next day, I got up early, ready to go to my classes.
I needed to take my mind off the last forty-eight hours, and there was no better cure for a low mood than being busy.
I’d half expected Renato to argue with me about that when I headed downstairs, backpack in hand, and announced I was going out — bruised ribs, black and blue jaw and all. Sonny had jumped out of his chair, looking worried, and Carmella had immediately disagreed.
Renato had only nodded, a smile playing on his lips. He was completely unsurprised by my stubborn refusal to let the whole thing interfere with my life.
“Answer my calls, and don’t leave Sonny’s side.”
“I won’t.”
“Good girl,” he said with a smirk that sent heat flushing through me.
This man could turn me on and distract me completely with one well-placed comment.
His hands gripped my hips, and I had to wrench myself away and then fight the urge to go back.
“What are you doing today?” I asked him as he walked me out to the car.
“Meeting my attorney, and then later, an old friend. I’ll be home for dinner, though.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Be on my placemat, pantiless, legs spread, in time for me to come home and eat.”
Just like that, my wicked husband sat me in the backseat of the car and shut the door.
I was still blushing by the time Sonny got into the driver’s seat.
We drove to campus. Snow had fallen, and everything looked fresh and new. I groaned as I pushed myself out of the car.
“You should have stayed home for the rest of the week, Mrs. D,” Sonny complained, coming around the car to take my arm.
“And do what? Cry in my pillow while I fall behind right before exams?”
He tutted. “The boss was right.”
“About what?”
“Your big brass balls.”
I laughed, and it hurt my ribs. Maybe Sonny was right, and I should’ve been taking it easy. Maybe I should have stayed in the hospital last night, but I was loathe to see any more people I knew. I didn’t want anyone to ask me what had happened. I had no idea what I’d say. They say medical professionals make the worst patients, and it was true in my case. However, if I got worse instead of better over the next few days, I’d go back. I’d have to make myself, or my husband would do that for me.
“I hope Doctor Dan isn’t presenting,” I mumbled to myself as we walked along the hall.
“Oh, I’m sure he isn’t. Didn’t you hear?” Sonny mused. “He had an accident; lost half his front teeth and needs reconstructive surgery.”
“Wait, what?” I stopped and stared up at Sonny.
He didn’t even twitch. “Damn shame.”
“Did he really have an accident?”
Sonny shrugged. “Having an accident isn’t so uncommon. People have them every day. Leaving the house puts you at risk for one. Hell, staying at home does, too.”
“And hitting on a mob boss’s wife might make it even more likely, right?” I stopped on the threshold of the class and glared at Sonny.
He simply smirked. “Your words, Mrs. D, not mine. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”
After class, I stopped at the coffee shop before going home. I really did love the seasonal hot chocolate from the place on campus, I was past caring if that made me a basic bitch. Besides, I wanted a moment alone to think before I headed back to Casa Nera. I had a message from Lucy on my phone that had made me so excited, I couldn’t stop reading it.
Maybe culinary school, what do you think?
It was a tiny step in the right direction. A real direction for Lucy’s future. Most importantly was all that it didn’t say. Choosing to move forward with her life meant accepting our new reality. It made me hopeful she’d turned a corner. Maybe we could put the guilt and resentments, the regrets of a lifetime, behind us, and finally move on.
I finished my coffee and headed back to Sonny, who was reading the soccer pages from the Italian newspaper that got delivered to Casa Nera every morning.
“Ready to go?”
My ribs ached, I was tired and could sleep for a week, but I also felt oddly content, like the storm had finally passed.
I had barely nodded when the voice behind me sent me spinning around.
“Mrs. De Sanctis, you’re a hard woman to find lately.”
Detective Vane was flushed, like she was gearing up for a fight. Whitely stood behind her, solemn-faced.
Sonny immediately pushed between the detectives and me. “What business do you have harassing Mrs. De Sanctis?”
“Official business, if you’ll excuse us,” Detective Vane said, slapping a piece of paper against Sonny’s chest.
He plucked it out of her hand and opened it.
“Vaffanculo,” he snarled, which I didn’t take as good news.
“What is it?”
“It’s a warrant for your arrest,” Detective Vane said triumphantly. “Charlotte De Sanctis, you are being charged with actions connected to obstruction of justice including but not limited to destroying or concealing evidence, providing false information, and witness tampering. You have the right to remain silent…” The rest of my rights faded away as Detective Vane cuffed me, taking great pleasure in the task.
Sonny was already on the phone, speaking in rapid-fire Italian. He took it from his ear and put it on speakerphone before the detectives could haul me out of earshot.
“Bambina, don’t say a word. I’ll meet you at the station.” Renato growled across the space.
And then we were walking through the hall and down the stairs toward a waiting cop car.
“Your first of many perp walks, married to that criminal who you chose to side with, Charlie,” Detective Vane muttered in my ear. “Isn’t it embarrassing?”
I took a deep breath and steadied my nerves, raised my chin, and shrugged.
My composure lasted until I was handcuffed to a table in the interrogation room. Detective Vane and Whitely left me to sweat for a while. It felt like my entire life flashed before my eyes. All the trouble I’d been avoiding for a decade had caught up with me. All those nights in the group home when I’d been the lookout, the kid too scared to sneak out the broken window on the second floor, and so instead had stayed behind, guarding the door. The one who’d stayed on the beach while my nursing friends had skinny-dipped at the shore after passing some hard exams.
The purse watcher. The wallflower. The rule follower. Now, my life had gone completely off the rails, so what had all that worry and sacrifice even been for? A wasted effort. I could have been sneaking out, skinny-dipping, and breaking the rules my entire life. I’d ended up in the same place, anyway.
“Miss Burke, we didn’t keep you waiting too long, did we?” Whitely asked as they came in and locked the door behind them.
“It’s Mrs. De Sanctis, and it’s fine.”
“Hmmm, Mrs. De Sanctis.” Detective Vane sat across from me and smiled. “How are you doing, Charlie?”
I shrugged. “Good. You?”
“Oh, I’m great. You look a little beat up there. Piss your husband off, did you?”
A bitter laugh left me at her hard tone. “If I had, I’m sure your warm and supportive manner would really set me at ease. Are you like this with real domestic violence victims, or just people you’re trying to intimidate?”
Detective Vane glared at me. “I don’t like weak women, Mrs. De Sanctis, and I don’t like people who don’t take help when it’s offered to them.”
“I don’t need your help. The only people who are victimizing me are you two.”
Whitely stepped forward, placed a folder on the table, and flipped it open. A white van sat at the corner of a photograph inside, and a row of body bags lined the ground in front. I recognized it immediately. It was the same setting as last night, and I could bet those bodies were the Castillo Cartel.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“Does it look familiar?”
“I think it’s a scene from a movie, right? I just can’t remember which one.”
Detective Vane chuckled. “This is really how you’re going to play it? Don’t you know you’ve got serious charges against you? You could do time.”
Do time? The only way I could do time was if they could pin something on Renato, and I believed in the manipulation and strategy of my husband far more than these clowns.
I didn’t answer, deciding that was the best strategy from now on.
“I’m showing you this to make you aware of how dangerous the man you married is. He could hurt you and your sister.”
I held my tongue and stared Whitely down. Their words had no power over me.
“Charlotte, we can still help you. We know Renato was involved last night. Have you ever heard the name Kirill Chernov? He and his brother are two of the most dangerous criminals to ever hit the East Coast. The only one more dangerous is your husband.”
A hard knock broke Whitely’s concentration, and he muttered as he got up and went to the door.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything? Since I haven’t had a call from my client, and you’re already questioning her, there has to be some mix-up in communication, right?”
The newcomer’s smooth confidence muffled the tension rising in me. He’d called me his client. This had to be Renato’s attorney.
He stalked into the room, drawing all eyes. He didn’t seem like any attorney I’d ever seen. He looked like a thug in a bespoke suit, and it worked for him. A buzz cut, neck and knuckle tattoos, and a suit that had probably cost more than my annual waitressing salary, custom-made to fit his huge hulking shoulders.
“Charlotte, I’m Ronan Black, a close friend and advisor of your husband.”
“You mean his consigliere, don’t you, Black? Just call a spade a spade,” Detective Vane spat, clearly annoyed that the attorney had arrived so quickly.
Ronan didn’t bother looking at her. All his attention was on me. “I’m here to represent you and get this misunderstanding cleared up as quickly as possible.” He shook my hand, gentle, despite the fact that his huge, tattooed hand was twice the size of mine. He sat beside me and set his briefcase on the floor. “Have you been offered a drink?”
I shook my head. His sudden concern and warmth was making me feel like crying, after the cold threats of the detectives. After the last few days I’d had, my reserves were running low.
Ronan chuckled. “My, my, we’re just breaking all the rules today, aren’t we, Detectives? We wouldn’t want coercion charges on top of everything else I’m going to throw at you.”
Detective Vane scoffed as Whitely went to get water. “Throw whatever you want at us, the law is on our side.”
Ronan raised an eyebrow. “Are you a lawyer as well as a detective, Dolores? How interesting. Well, let’s get this circus started. What have you got? Ask your questions.” He turned to look at the two-way glass. “And just so we’re clear, I’d like to request confirmation that this interview is being recorded.”
A voice spoke over a loudspeaker. “I can confirm that.”
“Excellent. Go on then, show us what you’ve got,” Ronan said, arrogance dripping from every word.
Every single thing he said was designed to piss the detectives off, and it was working. I couldn’t stand him already and had never been so relieved that someone was on my side, and not the other.
“We have reason to believe that your client knowingly revealed the position of a judge-approved listening device placed in a suspect’s home, to aid them in concealing their crimes and provide false information,” Detective Vane began.
“What does that mean?” I exclaimed.
Ronan smirked. “It means everything they heard on the bug was a lie, deliberately designed to lead them in circles. There’s no proof my client revealed said device to her husband. Also, I would like to see the warrant for the device. Probable cause is such a tricky thing to get signed off on.”
Whitely flushed. “We’ll get it to you.”
“I’d like to see it now, thank you very much,” Ronan said and flicked his hand in a dismissive gesture.
“You’re a real piece of work, Black, or should I say O’Connor? Birds of a feather flock together, I suppose, Italians, Irish, Russians…you’re all scum.”
“Actually, the full expression is birds of a feather flock together – until the cat comes, and Dolores,” Ronan leaned in, “you’re no cat. Keep it professional, or we’ll have a problem.”
Whitely reappeared and slapped a paper on the table before Ronan. He took his time picking it up and reading it.
“Judge Winfred Ellens. Oh, dear, that’s a terrible coincidence for you. Have you not seen the news?” Ronan took his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a webpage. He read aloud. “Judge Ellens has admitted to over ten counts of misconduct, including accepting bribes, coercion, witness intimidation, and colluding to pervert the course of justice. I hope you had someone upstanding to back up your request for this warrant?” He checked a field on the paper. “Commissioner Reynolds?” He chuckled warmly. “I’d say you might be in a spot of trouble over this. Don’t tell me Judge Ellens also issued the warrant for my client’s arrest? I’d like to see that as well, while we’re here.”
“What did you and that monster De Sanctis do? Did you intimidate them? Threaten them?”
Ronan rolled his eyes. “Judge not, lest ye be judged, Detective Vane. I’m very interested in how you’ve been treating my client here for the last few weeks.”
She swallowed hard, her gaze darting around the room. She focused on me. “Charlotte, we can help you. I know you think we can’t, but we can, you just need to tell us what he’s done, and everything will change for you.”
She had no idea that was the opposite of what I wanted. At that moment, a knock sounded on the door, and a harried-looking man peered in.
“Detectives, a word.”
Detectives Vane and Whitely left me alone with Ronan.
“What happens now?”
“That was their chief. Given the serious evidence that’s come to light about Judge Ellens, all his active cases, investigations, warrants, and the like will be suspended. We will push to leave right now, and in a few days, I’ll make sure it’s all dropped. It’s over, Charlotte, this time for good. Judge Ellens has already stated that he accepted bribes in your specific case, so they have nothing to hold you on while it’s investigated.”
“I can’t believe it’s so easy to just walk away from an arrest warrant.”
Ronan grinned. “It’s not so easy, I’m just that good. Though, I suppose I should give your husband his due, as well as Giada.”
“Meaning?”
Ronan nodded toward the glass, subtly reminding me of the recording. Right.
“Meaning they never stopped believing in you,” he said with a wink. Code, surely, to cover our conversation.
I found myself smiling back.
A minute later, the detectives returned and uncuffed me. Detective Vane was so angry she couldn’t meet my eyes.
“Now, I suppose an apology to my client is in order, and then we’ll see ourselves out,” Ronan said, straightening his cuffs and peering down imperiously at both cops. He was an extremely tall and burly man.
“Get lost, Black.”
“A pleasure as always, Dolores. And if I may say, you’re looking a little stressed. Maybe try yoga, it’s great for tension relief.”
With that, Ronan ushered me out of the room and along to Processing, where I collected my bag.
The next thing I knew, we were in the waiting room, and Renato was striding toward me. He pulled me into a hard hug, and I couldn’t breathe anything except his warm scent. It was better than oxygen to a person suffocating.
“Are you all right?”
“I think you cracked another rib, but apart from that, fine,” I teased him.
He immediately leaned back to survey me. “Cristo, you’re never leaving Casa Nera again,” he muttered.
“But I’m going to be working soon,” I reminded him.
A muscle tensed in his jaw. “I’ll build a hospital on the property.”
I laughed and leaned into him.
“Are you all right?” he asked again.
“Yes, I am, except I feel like everyone knows more than me, and I hate that.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Let’s go home, and I’ll catch you up.”
