"Not much," Helen admitted. "My school didn't have too many of that type fortunately. Mostly prep kids and middle class kids. What should I look for?"
I took a flash drive out of my pocket. It had a copy of the local police department's gang task force file on the Latin Kings, along with a few other pieces of intelligence that Mark had compiled for me, things that the police didn't know about. It was scrubbed of anything that could tie it back to him or the Snowman, of course. "Here. Police file on the Kings. Again, don't ask where I got it, okay?"
"Don't need to. In this city, money talks and bullshit walks, and Marcus Smiley's got plenty of money. And of course, you've got some pull at City Hall yourself. Congratulations, by the way."
"Thanks. I'd invite you to the wedding, but we're thinking of going with a very low key, small ceremony type of thing," I replied. It had finally gotten out after someone in the local news hounds had put together the new rings Patrick and I were wearing, along with an 'anonymous source.' Of course, that anonymous source was my own assistant Vanessa, who knew how to play the media game as well as Mark and Sophie did, maybe even better since she could do it with more finesse. She'd been doing it for longer, too. "But if you want, I can for sure bring you a souvenir from our honeymoon. We're planning on going to the Virgin Islands."
"Cool. Maybe something with a lot of coconut, and especially a lot of chocolate in it," Helen replied. "But don't sweat it if you forget. Set a date yet?"
"We're thinking later in the year. Kind of depends on Patrick's political future, if you know what I mean."
"I know. Rumors are making the papers. Anything you want to spill the beans on?"
I shook my head and smiled. The game of politics was as much about what wasn't said as what was said, I was learning. "Nothing I can confirm or deny."
Chapter Eight
Mark
I yawned, the constant late nights were getting to me. I was on the twenty seventh floor of an upscale condo complex in the downtown area, outside Francine Berkowitz's place, after spending the past half hour penetrating the building and making sure I was so far undetected.
My work was easier when I could be a "business investor" or even in my hitman days as a "freelance troubleshooter." I could sleep until noon, shower, and roll out for an afternoon or spend a day getting my body clock adjusted again. Sophie was understanding, and we were able to cover for each other when I needed to be Marcus Smiley. Nobody cared if I went into work at noon, as long as it was just the two of us.
Being a father demanded more. A baby negates all that. Sophie needed help with our daughter, and I couldn't be so greedy as to monopolize all the time I was awake for just my work. So in addition to being a masked vigilante (I refused, no matter how often Tabby joked, to refer to myself as a superhero or costumed avenger), I had to be up by eight o'clock in order to catch the morning stocks, as well as give Andrea her bottle while Sophie got her first workout of the day in. She was doing workouts twice a day, pushing hard, knowing the fight that was coming. I didn't like it, but there was the possibility of getting back on the streets for her. I was hoping that it would never come to that, and that we could find a way for Patrick to fight the battle on another front with his increasing political influence. But we had to be ready just in case.
After her workout, she would routinely take Andrea for a quick bath while I did some cleanup around the house and prepared lunch and dinner for our growing family. We were getting used to lots of casseroles, I just didn't have time for freshly cooked meals as often. A casserole could be put together quickly and then just tossed in the oven later to be ready at six or seven whenever we needed it.
With my evening work often going until two or three in the morning, I was running short on sleep, and I was starting to feel it. Sophie had even let me to take a nap that afternoon after finding Andrea and I asleep on a bean bag chair together, my daughter snuggled against my chest. It was the best hour of my month, at least until Andrea peed on me. We enjoyed letting her sleep nude as often as she wanted except at night, it prevented diaper rash, but it didn't help with having a wet, stinky t-shirt on me.