He got up from his desk, shoving aside a box of Chapstick with the word bleach scrawled in Sharpie across the label. No doubt they were from Ruggiero and Gallo. The way they were describing what happened at the wedding to the rest of the squad was that they’d set him up with a life-sized Troll Doll who happened to have mob connections for that Kiss Cam stunt. Everyone had gotten a good laugh about that. Assholes.
At least the idiot duo hadn’t gone on to tell everyone about them giving Gina his hotel room key. That meant either the two of them finally discovered they didn’t have to be dicks all the time, or they were just holding onto that little tidbit until the worst possible moment—like when he got called into the captain’s office, so they could watch as the captain dialed up internal affairs and informed them of a possible compromised detective on the task force.
Ford strode into the captain’s office in the corner and stopped inside the door. “You wanted to see me?”
The captain didn’t look up from his computer screen. “Shut the door and sit down.”
The hairs on the back of Ford’s neck did the conga, but he did what he was ordered, just like he always did. Anyway, if this was going to turn into an internal affairs colonoscopy, he’d rather get the bad news without the entire squad listening in.
“I understand you had an incident this weekend with Gina Luca.” The captain turned in his chair, slid his glasses down low on his nose, and watched Ford over the rims of his bifocals. “Something about a Kiss Cam?”
Ford let out a breath. That had been embarrassing, but not something that internal affairs would want to talk to him about. “Yes.”
The captain took off his glasses and cleaned them with a small cloth beside his keyboard in total and complete silence. First the right lens, then the left, then flip the glasses and do it all over again. Slow. Deliberate. Total power move. The captain loved to make subordinates wait on his next words, and it drove some guys nuts. Ford wasn’t one of them. He just took the opportunity to let his brain spin out the possibilities of what could come next and options for dealing with them.
Finally, the captain replaced his glasses, then folded the cloth in half and then half again before placing it on his desk at a perfect parallel line to his keyboard.
“Is there any reason why you couldn’t interact with Ms. Luca in a professional manner?” the captain asked once he finally looked up at Ford.
“No sir.” He could get past having seen her naked—having trailed his fingers down her smooth skin—even if he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.
“Good, because we need to use that perceived connection on her part to our advantage.”
Of the forty-eight possibilities he’d worked out, that wasn’t one he’d been expecting. “Sir?”
“She just called in a deceased person in her attic.” The captain templed his fingers and tapped them to his chin, silent and waiting for Ford to pounce. When he didn’t, the captain went on. “The body’s been there a while, decades, probably. Cold cases should take it but, as you know, her brothers have been making moves.” Another dramatic pause. The captain was a main player in the Waterbury Community Playhouse, and it showed. “We need someone who can give us intel on how much progress they’re making and if it’s tied to the heroin shipment that informant mentioned this week.”
“And you think she knows this?” Gina was close to her brothers, he could tell from the way they’d interacted at the hotel, but according to mob organization rules it would be beyond unusual for Rocco and Paul to share inside information with her. And on the off chance that they did, she wouldn’t be the kind to rat out her brothers. Her sense of loyalty might be misguided, but—after watching her with her brothers—it had been as obvious as the raspberry jelly on Gallo’s tie this morning. Still, there was something to be said for being in the right place at the right time, and since Kapowski’s stakeout the other night had turned up exactly nothing new, the task force couldn’t afford to turn down any opportunity as the date for the shipment got closer and closer. Fuck. He hated to admit it, but the plan to use Gina had merit.
“No,” the captain said. “All indications are that she’s clean. However, a good investigator can pick up all sorts of information—especially about something as big as that Esposito heroin deal is rumored to be.” Off came the glasses again. He picked up the cloth and unfolded it. Wipe. Wipe. Flip. Wipe. Wipe. Fold. Fold. Cloth down. Glasses on. “Are you a good investigator?”
“Yes sir.” It wasn’t ego. It was the truth. And he was beyond ready to prove it. “So, the plan is to get close to Miss Luca to gather intel about the workings of the Esposito family and the upcoming deal?”
All he had to do was get Gina, an innocent bystander, to trust him so that her brothers would as well. People said a lot without ever opening their mouths, every detective knew that. Still, guilt coated his tongue like he’d just taken a swig of rotten milk. That Kiss Cam kiss and the silk of her skin had been on almost constant replay in his mind since the wedding.
She may have thought he’d been joking about him going to her grandmother’s party with her, but he hadn’t been. There was something about Gina that got to him, and that’s why this whole situation pissed him off.
If her brothers cared for her as much as she claimed they did, why weren’t they protecting her from their business better? The whole reason he’d dodged the family business and become a cop was because he believed in fairness, in the importance of looking out for those who couldn’t look out for themselves. Moving in on Gina on false pretenses was an asshole move—he fully admitted that—but that didn’t make it the wrong move, and it was for her own good.
He could do this without hurting Gina, while still getting the kind of information that could put bad guys behind bars and save lives by keeping that heroin from hitting the street. She never had to know her part in this. Correction. She never would know her part in this. He’d do whatever it took to make sure of that.
The captain nodded. “You’ll go in and take a look at the body that, according to the description from the first reporting officer on the scene, looks like what remains of Big Nose Tommy Luca. Then, you’ll find a way to gain her trust and entry into her environment to deduce what the brothers are up to. We know the date of the heroin deal, but not the location or time. From their briefing files, it’s clear she’s close with her brothers. You stay close to her, see what you hear.”
Ford tapped his thumb against the tip of his middle finger too fast to count the beats. “Don’t you think this is a long shot?” Like the Ice Knights with their losing record getting into the hockey championship playoffs long.
“I realize this assignment doesn’t gel perfectly with your sense of cut-and-dried, by-the-regulations way of living, so if it’s too much for your delicate sensibilities, just say the word and I’ll assign someone else. Gallo has time available.”
The station coffee swirled in his stomach. There was no way that Gallo should be within a mile of Gina. It wasn’t that the guy would make the same dumbass comments he’d been making around the bullpen to her, but the idea of him being close to her made Ford want to chew the bark off a tree. He couldn’t explain the visceral reaction to the idea, but it was there, and as a cop he’d learned to trust his gut.
“No need for Gallo,” he said as he stood. “I’ll take the case.”
“How will you gain entry?”
“I’ll find a way.” He always did.
“Excellent. Then you have somewhere else to be right now,” the captain said. “Dismissed, detective.”
Ignoring the questioning looks from the rest of the task force squad, he grabbed his coat and his umbrella—fifty percent chance today—and headed out the door to go lie to a woman to save her from having Gallo on her doorstep. What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Five