AFTER BEING IN the hospital for two days, she was more than ready to leave.
Uncomfortable, she tried to move, which wasn’t easy with her arm in a sling.
Lachlan came in with a file. “Hey, what are you doing?”
He came rushing over to prop her back against the pillows.
“Moving,” she said, wriggling in the sheets. “I want to get out of this bed.”
“They might discharge you in a day or two.”
“You think I don’t know you and grandpapa are pressuring them to keep me here?”
“You’re important to us,” he said, kissing her head. “Why shouldn’t we use our pull to make sure you’re looked after?”
“Yeah, but it’s not a medical request. You’re just being protective,” she said, nodding at the file as he sat. “What is that?”
It didn’t look thick. Was that the sum total of their investigation?
“It can wait a minute.”
“Just tell me,” she said. “You want me to ID someone?”
He rolled his lips into his mouth. “Yeah,” he said on a sort of inhale.
“Okay, so show me.”
“You don’t want to rush yourself.”
“You’ve been telling me to take my time for two days.” The nausea wasn’t as bad, though she did still get bouts of dizziness. “Between you and Steeple telling me to take it easy, I’ll never move or work again. Just show me.”
“I don’t want you to be shocked,” he said, opening the file just enough to peek into it.
“Shocked? Why would I…? You mean you don’t want me to get upset?”
“No, it’s…” He hesitated then sighed. “The subject’s deceased.”
“Dece—he’s dead?” she asked.
He nodded, folding back the cover of the file to hand it over.
Blond guy. Swollen. Bruised. Cut. Bleeding. Well, not anymore, but there was blood on his face.
“He has the tattoo,” he said, reaching over to slide another picture out from beneath, putting it on top. “Is it him?” She nodded, numb, as he took the file from her hands to close it and put it aside. “He was killed last night. Showed up in the early hours.”
“Showed up where?”
“Why would you ask that?”
His curiosity got her attention. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“At Silvio Manzani’s. Strung up by his ankles in a tree, on proud display outside his front door.” A beat passed. “It wasn’t pretty, Sersh. Whoever killed him was seriously pissed. Seriously pissed.”
“What do you mean?” Grabbing the file, she wanted to see what made her brother so solemn. “How did—” She stopped at the next photograph. “Oh my God.”
Lachlan took the file before she could see the other pictures. “They emasculated him, disemboweled him, antemortem, Ser. I don’t know what the perps wanted him to give up, but he wasn’t a willing victim. Every one of his fingers was broken. Not that it mattered, ‘cause they cut off his hands and scattered them on the driveway with his toes and teeth like ice-cream sprinkles.” Her mouth wouldn’t close. It was amazing, disgusting, yet not repulsive. “They tortured him. Cut out his tongue. There were over two hundred individual injuries on the body. Then they somehow got him into that tree and cut open his stomach, spilling his guts all over, while he was still alive.” Though probably not conscious. “No one saw anything. No one heard anything. Silvio’s people are locked down.”
“So you think it’s something to do with the Manzanis?”
Did it shock her brother that the grizzly scene didn’t upset her? It did because it was vile, but so was the man. He deserved everything he got.
It took Lachlan a minute to clear his throat. “He’s still a John Doe, but he worked for someone and had the Manzani mark.”
“First Evander, now this guy,” she said. “The Manzanis dealing with a coup?”
Intrigue twitched in his eye. “That’s the second time you’ve referenced the Manzanis turning on their own. What do you know?”
“I know the Manzanis.” Unfortunately. “They’re power hungry. All of them. And ruthless.”
“Same could be said of a lot of people in this city. In the world.”
“True,” she said, smoothing the sheet on her lap with one hand. “It’s just my opinion.”
“Your educated opinion,” he said. “You know these families.”
“Sometimes I do,” she said.
“You may not be a criminal underworld expert, but you know the Manzanis.”
“Some of them.”
“What about the McDades? Anything from them?”
“Nothing,” she said.
“You never told me why you were so close to his club.”
“I don’t want to talk about Connel.”
“You know nobody calls him that.”
“It’s his name.”
“You’re the only one who calls Evander Manzani Evander too. For most he’s Vex.”
“He’s Vex because he pisses people off everywhere he goes. That’s why he always has someone at his back,” she said. “He could just keep on being him while his guys or his brothers paid his debts and bailed him out.”
“One of those brothers is in prison.”
A serendipitous tangent to explore. “Do you know who worked that case?” she asked because it was relevant to her investigation. “Helios Manzani’s conviction?”
“Not off the top of my head,” he said. “Want me to look into it?”
“No, but you could get me into Records again.”
“They don’t like people just wandering in off the street.”
She flashed him a smile. “Yeah, but I’m the superintendent’s daughter.”
“Has Dad been here much?”
“He calls the nurses’ station. They let him know how I’m doing.”
“Henry’s been in.”
She smiled again. “Grandpapa’s here every day. I think he likes the photo op on the stairs. I keep seeing him in the news.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell him to back off.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m not front-page news.”
People cared how an alderman spent his day. They weren’t so worried about his granddaughter. Probably because she’d told Steeple to get word out she didn’t want a big deal made of it.
The door opened. She expected her grandfather. Maybe Strat, though he’d already been in. Instead, it was a nurse with an enormous bouquet.
“Oh God,” she groaned.
“Wow, secret admirer?” Lachlan said, standing up to take the arrangement the nurse could hardly see past.
“Not so secret,” she said.
“Is there a card?”
Her brother may have been asking the nurse, but she answered. “Let me guess, Evander got out today.”
“Evander Manzani? Yes,” the nurse said. “Earlier. Did you get your dinner?”
“Someone came and took the plate a while ago,” she said, omitting the fact she hadn’t eaten much.
“Do you need anything, Detective McLeod?”
Her brother was straightening the flowers and took a second to process his name. “Oh, uh, no, I’m good. Thanks.”
The young woman smiled and departed.
“Ooh, big, strong, handsome detective,” she teased in her best Marilyn voice.
“Cut it out.”
She laughed. Probably for the first time since the attack.
“Oh, oh, Lachlan. You’re so pretty and so strong.”
He dropped into the seat again. “You think I work out for the job?” he asked. “Nope, it’s all about the pussy.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Okay, you don’t say that word. It doesn’t sound right coming from your mouth.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “A lot of other women don’t feel that way.”
She had to smile. “Have you even been with someone since Immie?” she asked. “You’re probably Mr. Fifth Date.”
“Mr. Fifth Date?”
“Do you even go in for the goodnight kiss before the fifth date?”
“According to you, I haven’t been on a fifth date for years.” He squinted toward the ceiling. “I can’t even tell you what Im and I did for our fifth date. No, I can actually. Dinner… there was definitely some action.”
“On top of the clothes action?”
“More than a kiss anyway.”
“You don’t remember.”
“I remember our first time,” he said.
“Before or after the fifth date?” He smiled, which made her laugh. “See! I knew it! You’re Mr. Respectful.”
“And that’s a bad thing? You don’t think there are enough scumbags around?”
“Yes, there are definitely enough scumbags.”
“I like to sleep at night.”
“Rather than worry about the women in your life?”
He got serious. “I’m worried about you.”
Suddenly, nothing was funny. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I know Dad’s always giving you crap about finding a guy. But… I kind of agree with him right now.”
“Please, you are not serious!”
“You don’t need a guy to pay your bills or get you pregnant, but I would feel better if there was someone next to you at night. The cops were called because a stranger heard you screaming. That was lucky. Pure luck. If they’d got there two minutes later…”
“I’m alive.”
“Yeah, but if the cops weren’t called, and you were left there… How long until someone found you? Until someone noticed you were missing.”
“I was never missing.”
“But no one was at home to notice you weren’t there, that you didn’t come home.”
“Being with someone just to be with someone doesn’t interest me.”
“I know and I want you to be happy with whoever you end up with,” he said. “Still… I’d feel better if you stayed with me for a while.”
“I don’t want to cramp your style. Where would you take all your nurse groupies?”
“It’s that or you stay with Dad.”
“He’s home less than you are,” she said, “and wouldn’t notice whether I was there. He didn’t notice when we did live together.” Her brother couldn’t even argue. “I’ll be fine at home. Strat will check in.”
“I’m still getting over the fact you hang out with him. You know he hates me, right?”
“He doesn’t hate you… Maybe he hates you a little… I always say nice things about you.”
“That makes a huge difference, I’m sure.”
His phone rang. On instinct, he moved to answer it, but checked himself and hesitated.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Go. Go.”
Her brother would be protective for a while. That came with the territory. She’d keep up the facade. Be strong. Because that was what he needed to see. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Actually, it was what she needed. She’d never felt more vulnerable, more exposed. She just had to keep telling herself to get through it. Be strong.
***
WAKING WITH A START, darkness unsettled her. Lachlan was gone. She must’ve fallen asleep while he was on the phone.
The hospital was quiet. People moved beyond the room. Phones rang. But she was in a secure area… She felt secure anyway.
“We need more information.”
She gasped, her head snapping toward that brogue.
“Niall,” she whispered as he approached from the shadowy corner.
“Did he have an accent?”
“What? Who?”
“You said dark hair and stocky,” he said, coming over. “Look at these guys.”
Light from a cellphone signaled the device in his hand. She was still getting over the fact he was there.
“What do you want me to—”
He turned the screen to her and started swiping through images of guys on the street, one in a bar, one in an alley. Different guys, different places.
“Stop,” she said, closing her eyes. “I don’t know who it was.”
“You don’t absolve these guys, none of them will get mercy.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
It wasn’t easy to discern his features with the cellphone light in her face and the rest of the room in darkness.
“No one comes for a McDade without repercussions.”
“I’m not a McDade,” she said. “He finished with me.”
“Look at the pictures,” he said, swiping again. “Point to the guy who hurt you. It’s one or all, Sersha.”
And that was a warning to heed. Setting her focus, she eased his hand away and swiped, looking at each face in turn until she stopped. She didn’t even need to scrutinize it; she recognized him immediately.
“That’s him.”
Niall glanced at the screen while switching it off to put it back in his pocket. He just walked away, no further instruction or explanation.
“Wait,” she said when his fingers landed on the door handle. “What happens now? Are you going to kill him?”
“No,” he said like he was shooting the breeze. “Ire is.”
He left. Even as the door sank back into the frame, she just stared. Ire? Was going to…? He couldn’t mean it. Why would he do that? For her? For whatever he was protecting? She’d probably never know.