“?‘The squeeze on him’? Seriously?” I look at Declan, ignoring her flushing face. “Guess what?” I say to him. “Wren caught Finnie screwin’ in her bed—on her new sheets, too.”
Declan’s eyes narrow further. “You’re such an imbecile,” he tells me. “Do you realize what I have on the line here—the opportunity to take down a mafia empire. Do you think I care what Finnie did?”
“You should,” I answer. “He got the girl pretending to be you.” I barely keep it together when he leans back in his chair and covers his face. “I’ve gotta give him credit,” I say, continuing to play dumb. “You and him do look a lot alike.”
Declan mutters a curse and reaches for the law journal closest to him. “Whatever, Curran. I’ve got a case to prepare for.”
Tess offers Declan a sympathetic glance before crossing her arms and fixing her tightening expression my way. I don’t know who’s more on edge, her or him. She’s barely spoken to me these past two weeks, even on the rides back to her place. She hasn’t smiled much and she sure as anything hasn’t laughed—not since I called her on checking me out.
I kept up with the jokes, trying to draw that smile that lightens her face, and occasionally I managed. But something’s off about her, and the more time that passes, the more she seems to fade away.
Maybe school’s getting to her. Her bag is always spilling with law books and notes when I pick her up at U Penn. Maybe it’s this case. Or maybe I’ve pushed her too far. Damn shame I can’t seem to stop trying to get a rise out of her. Just like I can’t stop picturing her naked since she brought it up. It’s times like this I wish for Superman’s X-ray vision. What I wouldn’t give to see her—
“I don’t believe you,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. “This is important, and yet you sit here swearing like a prepubescent boy drunk off his father’s stolen scotch.”
“Actually, we used to sneak Pop’s Irish whiskey.” She stills, like it’s taking everything she has not to fling Declan’s stapler at me. “Just speaking the truth,” I tell her.
She sighs. “Why can’t you be more like your brother?”
I grin. “You mean metrosexual with a small dick? Sorry, babe.” I motion to myself. “I gotta use the gifts God gave me.”
Declan looks up then. “Fuck you. I don’t have a small dick.” He coughs into his hand when Tess’s eyes fly open. If he hadn’t been working the hours he had, or putting so much pressure on himself, he never would’ve said anything like that with her around. “Look, Curran. Either help us or keep your trap shut,” he mutters.
I lean back in my chair. “Fine. What about his gumad?”
Tess pauses in the middle of reaching for the law journal closest to her. “What?”
“His gumad. You know, his mistress. He probably stashed evidence at her place.”
Declan levels his stare at me. “You know this for a fact?”
I consider his question. “What I know is she’s a former stripper who isn’t stripping, and who has sweet digs near the Liberty Bell. You don’t buy something like that with no money. Someone bought it for her. I’m guessing the third in command hooked her up.”
Tess cocks her head. “Why him specifically?”
“Because word on the street is the third owns the strip joint he met her in,” Declan answers with a grin.
I place my hands behind my head. “Word on the street also says she likes coke. Watch her. Catch her buying, get your search and seizure.”
“Can we do that?” Tess asks, excitement building in her tone.
Declan answers with a stiff nod. “Get me Santana from Narcotics on the phone.”
Tess scrolls through her list of contacts on her iPad and reaches for Declan’s office phone. “You couldn’t have brought this up earlier, asshole?” he asks.
I don’t hide my grin. “I would have if you’d asked nicely enough.”