Brinley sat on the bed and wiped Reed’s forehead. The fever had started early in the night and she’d spent hours making sure Reed was okay. She’d put Finn on some blankets on the floor next to the bed, and she was exhausted from watching them both. “You need to wake up so I can tell you all the stuff I found.”
“I’m shocked you’re still here,” Reed said without opening her eyes. “It was your chance to run.”
“Run where, exactly?” she asked, not stopping her caresses with the cool washcloth.
“I’m sorry.” Reed seemed pale and weak, and when she opened her eyes, Brinley couldn’t look away. They didn’t hold the soul of an evil person even if Reed had done some evil things.
“For what?” She put the washcloth aside and pressed her hand to Reed’s cheek to see if the fever had broken.
“That all this happened to you. You and Finn didn’t deserve what Wallace had planned for you.” Reed sighed and tried to turn her head but Brinley prevented her from doing it.
“You’re right, we didn’t, but you protected us from all that. We’re here because of you.”
“Still, you should run at the first chance you have to get away from me.”
“What happened isn’t your fault, Reed. I may not have understood in the beginning, but I don’t blame you.” The pain in Reed was so visible she could almost touch it. Her head told her to turn away, but her heart couldn’t do it.
“I don’t deserve those words.”
“Tell me what happened to you, and I don’t mean why you were shot. I know it’s something, and like I told you, it’s not your fault.”
Reed stared at her for a long while and Brinley didn’t expect an answer. They’d eventually part ways, and she shouldn’t care, but she was alive because of this silent and imposing woman. She couldn’t overlook that, no matter how hard she tried.
“I grew up with my mother until I was five,” she said, then told her about her mother’s overdose and her years in foster care. “After about ten placements they put me in a house with a bunch of other kids, and that’s where I met Oscar. He’s my only family, at least the only family that I know of. It took us years to get out of there, but we made it together.”
“You survived all that?” Brinley’s eyes swam with tears. The parts of Reed’s story about the attempted molestations and beatings were hard to hear. That she’d become who she was felt totally understandable in an irrationally logical sort of way, and she admired Reed’s will to survive. Not everyone who grew up in the system became a killer, but if you piled enough shit on a kid, you couldn’t really blame them if they did. “Did you ever know who your father was?”
“Penny was too busy and too high to have ever figured it out. She always thought I was a true bastard, and in a way, she was right.” Reed seemed exhausted by the time she finished, and Brinley wanted to leave her alone, but now that she was talking, she didn’t want to stop.
“Reed, I don’t really know my father either. I mean, I know who he is, but he left and my mother raised me. I was lucky that she did everything to give me a good life. You did it alone, and that doesn’t make you a bastard.” She combed Reed’s hair back and put the cloth back on her forehead. “No one may have told you this before, but your life is a miracle, not something to be ashamed of.”
“You don’t have to whitewash it,” Reed said with her eyes closed. “I’ve already told you—I’m not a nice person.”
“Tell that to Finn, who doesn’t use someone’s feet as an obstacle course unless he likes you. My mom always said small children see the best in us, even when we can’t see it for ourselves.” Brinley touched her face again, not wanting to stop. She moved her hand when the door opened.
“You still alive?” Oscar said, walking in and stopping by the bed.
“Good work, Oscar, and I’m sorry I lied to you.” Reed didn’t say anything else.
“You lied about killing a small child and his mother. Those are the kind of lies that are forgivable every time,” Oscar said, squeezing Reed’s hand. “Get some sleep and then we’ll have to talk.”
Reed’s eyes were already closed and her breathing was starting to even out. The couple of days had helped Reed’s healing progress, and Brinley’s worry eased. “Would you like some coffee, Oscar?”
“Will the kid be okay?” Oscar asked, glancing at Finn.
“He’ll be fine, and if he wakes up we’ll hear him, or at least I will.” Brinley walked out and expected Oscar to follow her and he did.
“What’s all this?” Oscar asked when they made it to the kitchen. He sat at the table where she’d been going through everything Reed had given her.
“Reed went to Dean Jasper’s house and got the true books for the Moroccan’s operation. The guy that runs it—”
“Robert Wallace, who put the hit on you,” Oscar finished for her. “Well, more precisely, his fixer or assistant Alex Bell ordered the hit.” Oscar turned around when she didn’t say anything. “Reed and I are partners, but I never actually work with her in the field.”
“Should you be telling me all this?” She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest while the coffee brewed.
He laughed and nodded. “Who are you going to tell? You’re supposed to be dead, and if you leave here that’ll definitely be the case. If you’re here, though, it means Reed has some plan to get you back to your life, and the only way to do that is to work together.”
“That’s what she said, and I believe her.” Brinley poured the coffee and sat next to him. “She told me about what both of you went through, and I’m sorry. What I’m not sorry about is meeting her.”
“There were two contracts that day, and now it makes me sad she didn’t get assigned both of them.” He took a sip of the coffee and hummed. “When she told me she’d killed you, I think it was the first time she ever disappointed me. I was horrified that she could’ve done that, but I couldn’t say anything for one reason.”
“Oscar, I don’t think we should be talking about all this,” Brinley said, trying to put the brakes on whatever he was trying to accomplish.
“The thing is, Brinley, you and I have something in common. We’re both alive because Reed did the right thing.” He looked at her, and he had that same haunted expression Reed had when she told her the story of her life. “Are you going to turn her in if you get the chance?”
“No,” she said, louder than she meant to. “You can’t think that. I don’t want to end up dead by running, and I owe her everything. I’m grateful I’m alive, and my son is my main concern.”
“Then tell me what you found.” He waved to all the books sitting open.
“Can I wait until Reed is awake? Not that I don’t want to tell you, but I’d rather say it once.”
“That’s no problem, and not that this coffee isn’t wonderful, but why don’t we get some sleep while we have the chance? It should be a long week since Reed is the worst patient in the history of humanity,” he said and she laughed.
Brinley placed both their mugs in the sink and went up the stairs, smiling one more time when she turned toward the master bedroom. That Oscar didn’t say anything or try to stop her didn’t surprise her—well, not as much as the desire to do it at all surprised her. She checked on Finn before she moved to the other side of the large bed and lay on top of the blanket.
Reed was sleeping, and she dozed off watching Reed’s chest move in a slow cadence, glad that whatever had happened, Reed had survived and come back to keep her promises.
* * *
“Remi,” Angelo Giordano said, kissing one cheek then the other before he repeated the move with Mano. “Thank you for the gift.”
They’d had to wait a few days for Angelo to fit them in, but Benito had come through after Remi and Mano had sat him down for a serious heart-to-heart. Remi’s father and family had power in New Orleans and here in Vegas, especially after partnering with New Orleans Mob boss Derby Cain Casey, but Giordano was the guy in New York. His crew and family controlled everything from garbage collection to drugs and prostitutes, from the city to New Jersey. People like Benito and the Terzo family might live over two thousand miles away, but they kissed the ring when Angelo or his son Nicolai held their hand out because they were at the top of the food chain.
It had been Angelo who’d given his permission for Benito to take out Caterina when he’d gone to him about what had happened to his granddaughter. That order Remi had no problem with, since she agreed on a moral basis, but she didn’t know if Angelo realized there might be blowback, thanks to the ineptitude of the players involved in Vegas. She watched him open and prepare one of the Cuban cigars from the box she’d brought with her, and offered him a light when he was done.
“Mr. Giordano,” she said, sitting when he waved her into a chair. Mano smiled when she glanced at him with her own smile. She felt like she was in a Mob movie. Granted, they were in the same line of work, but Angelo seemed way old school.
“Remi, please call me Angelo. We may have never met before, but there’s no reason we can’t be friends. Am I right?” Angelo blew a stream of smoke away from her.
“Yes, sir, and it’s an honor. We may be in different businesses, but my father and my family have the utmost respect for you.” She covered all her bases as far as tradition, and he nodded as if she’d passed a test.
“Benito vouched for you, and I’m glad you’re here. Hopefully you’ll accept my invitation to visit New York with your father when you get a chance. If you make it, please bring your business partner, Casey. A meeting between all of us is way overdue.”
“We’d love to, thank you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about a recent visit I got from Gino Roca, Francesco Terzo’s right hand.” After the visit from Roca two of their high rollers had been harassed going into the Gemini and been threatened, on behalf of the Terzo family, if they came back. Word had reached Mano when they’d canceled their reservations. Apparently, Gino’s word meant shit.
“What’s Roca doing visiting you? Terzo already has something set in town,” Nicolai asked, coming in and hearing what she’d said.
“Nico,” Angelo said, pointing to her and Mano. “Meet the Jatibons, Remi and Mano.”
“Good to finally meet you two,” Nico said, shaking their hands. “Are you having problems with Gino?”
“I can’t be sure, but it feels like someone is trying to place the blame for Caterina’s death on my family. And as I told Mr. Giordano, there’s no reason for us to have any involvement because we have no business together. We have no interest in a war between the families in Vegas, and we’re concerned about the very visible way they’re taking issue with each other.” It was as close as she could get without outright calling them morons.
“Thank you for letting me know, and we’ll take care of it,” Angelo said. “I’m sure you understand what grief does to people, especially if their children are involved. You aren’t a parent yet, but they become the center of your world, and Francesco doesn’t perhaps know how to handle the loss. Benito handled the issue as he needed to.”
It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear, but at least Angelo believed her. He seemed to, anyway. “Thank you, sir, and thank you for taking time to see us. If you have a chance before you go home, we’d like for you and your family to come by the Gemini and have dinner on us.”
“We’d love to,” Nico said, laughing. “Papa loves to be treated to a good meal.”
“And, Remi,” Angelo said, standing when she did, “I know you’re resourceful, so if you find anything else I should hear about, you don’t have to go through Benito. Call me directly and we’ll discuss it. We’ve all lived through problems before, but Vegas is a place for fun as well as business. I don’t want anything getting in the way of that.”
“Thank you, and I’ll do that.”
She and Mano took the elevator down from Giordano’s suite at Bellagio and stayed quiet as they walked through the front of the casino to the car. “That was interesting,” Mano said, once Hugo pulled away.
“I think that last part was a clue that there’s more to all this and he wouldn’t mind if we found out what it is. Benito obviously works for him, as does Terzo, but what was Caterina up to when she tried to set Victor Madison up, other than just keeping him in line? And who the fuck was Paolo Moretti trying to kill? Where does that shitstorm fit in? We have speculation, but we need facts.”
“How in the hell are we supposed to get to the whole truth? Both the Terzo and Moretti families are going to shut down now that they’ve each lost a kid.” The Strip traffic was as terrible as ever, so Hugo turned off as soon as he could.
“We have to find that proverbial needle, Mano, and they’ll hand us the key.”
“Oh, that should be easy, since the cops have no clue.”
She laughed and slapped his shoulder. “Stop thinking like a cop, and start thinking like the hardened criminal you are.”
* * *
“That’s the only part I don’t understand,” Brinley said as she finished telling Reed and Oscar what she’d figured out.
Reed had slept pretty much for two days, but every time she woke up, Brinley was right next to her, and she’d taken Reed’s hand when they saw Brinley’s mother making another tearful plea on the news. Wilma had done a good job of keeping her family in the spotlight, and Reed had done a good job of providing silent comfort.
“That I’m not sure about either, but Victor Madison was one of those types who think the more ammunition you have, the better. What Lucan’s wife had to offer him to keep quiet about her affair, I can’t guess,” Reed said, flipping through the information again.
The file with the affair between Mandy Terzo and her attorney stumped her as well, but the books made sense. They were a total accounting of what Wallace had run through the Moroccan for Francesco Terzo and the cartel. If they came to light it would bring down not only Wallace, but a number of people who would become unrelenting enemies if they found out who fingered them. That had to be another factor in Wallace’s decision to kill Brinley and Naomi. If his actions to hide his deception brought Terzo down, jail wouldn’t have meant shit when it came to Francesco Terzo ordering Wallace killed.
“You think Lucan told his wife anything?” Oscar asked.
“Lucan barely knows anything, much less enough to tell his wife. He’s not the brightest bulb. Caterina’s the brains in that trust, but she was running a scam with a woman who had no business being in that situation. That makes me doubt the level of her intelligence too,” Reed said, handing Brinley the file back. “The one thing this guarantees is Mandy and the lover’s deaths if anyone decides to enlighten Lucan.”
“Let’s put that aside for now and get back to the Moroccan,” Oscar said softly, since Finn was napping close by. Their lives had been turned upside down by Brinley and Finn’s presence and none of them ever talked about that. This little cocoon where Brinley cooked, Finn played, and they pretended everything was normal was truly bizarre.
“Robert Wallace asked for that audit to put Francesco off while he negotiated with a few of the cartel middlemen,” she said, and Brinley nodded. “On the surface, that’s what it seemed like he was doing, but it was more than that.”
“More than what?” Brinley asked.
“Francesco Terzo runs product from the border to all points north, but it’s not his stuff. He works for Angelo Giordano. It’s taken Giordano time and plenty of muscle, but he has the contacts within the cartels to get it here and transport it north.” She moved a little to sit up more and grimaced from the stab of pain.
“Be careful,” Brinley said, kneeling on the bed and helping her until she was more comfortable. “Now finish what you were saying.”
“Terzo used his influence to get Robert Wallace hired at the Moroccan, and immediately set him up to clean the barrels of money they were making. It’s a nothing job since cleaning money through a casino is about as hard as drinking a glass of water, but to keep Wallace happy, they paid him a boatload of cash. Little Bobby—that’s the nickname Wallace hates—finally figured out the real money’s in the product.”
“I know as much about drugs as I do about gambling, which means not much,” Brinley said and Oscar laughed. “You’re going to have to explain that last bit.”
“I think what Reed’s saying is that Wallace was planning to replace his bosses and cash in on both sides of the business,” Oscar said.
“That’s exactly it. If Wallace becomes the supplier as well as the cleaner, he’ll own Vegas,” Reed said. Understanding more of the picture, though, didn’t change Brinley’s fate. “Would you mind if I talk to Oscar a minute? I need something done before we plan our next step.”
“Sure, you want anything?”
“About five minutes, and then we can keep going.” Brinley left and closed the door, even though she didn’t have to. Reed doubted she’d stand outside listening in. “We might have to scrub our existence from Vegas until things cool off, but the only way out of this is to blow it to hell before we go.”
“What do you want?”
“I need you to run an errand, but you need to do it without being seen. Think you can come out of the back room for once?” He nodded and listened to what she wanted and left without complaint. She heard the door close.
Brinley came back up half an hour later with a sandwich for her. “Is Oscar okay? He looked a little nervous.”
She laughed and liked that Brinley came and sat next to her. “You have to realize that Oscar is nervous all the time. It’s his state of being, and it changes your perspective of all things Oscar if you understand that.”
“Do you have someone special in your life?” Brinley suddenly clamped her lips together and wouldn’t make eye contact after the non sequitur.
“No, I don’t. My life has been a repetitive kind of thing where I try to make it from one day to the next without going completely insane.” She accepted half the sandwich, took a bite, and offered the other half to Brinley. The fresh white T-shirt meant Brinley had found her stash, but eventually they’d have to find her something to wear that actually fit. “Do you? Have I taken you away from some guy?”
“You don’t do personal talks much, do you?” Brinley asked, and she laughed at this unexpected almost-friendship.
“In my defense, there isn’t much watercooler talk in the contract killing and thievery business, so my social skills are pretty rusty, if not nonexistent.”
Brinley finally glanced her way and laughed as well. “Was that a joke? I’m doing a victory dance if that was a joke.”
“You’re trying to change the subject and not answer my question. Don’t make me get up and get my gun.” She made a pistol with her fingers, and Brinley reached over and grabbed it.
“Another joke, and there’s no special guy who’s crying over my demise. I have Finn and he doesn’t leave a lot of time for stuff like that, but…”
The way Brinley blushed made Reed want to sit up and touch her face, but moving still caused pain. “But what?”
“But nothing.” Brinley’s blush deepened. “I shouldn’t have asked you about your personal life, so let’s drop it.”
“Aside from Oscar, and now you and Finn, I don’t have a personal life.” She took another bite and chewed slowly. “You know, before you, I never really talked about myself at all. Maybe you missed your calling by going into accounting. You should’ve considered law enforcement.”
“My job doesn’t give me much time to talk to people about anything other than their financials, usually, but I want to know you.” Brinley moved closer and placed her hand on her arm.
“Why? Really, Brinley, I was serious when I said you should run away from me the first chance you get. My mother’s dead, but she left some damaged goods behind, and you don’t need that.” She tried to move but Brinley wasn’t letting go.
“The flaw in your argument is that I don’t see you that way. All I see is the woman who pointed a gun at me but didn’t pull the trigger even though her life probably would’ve been much easier if she had.” Brinley moved closer and seemed to have gotten a burst of courage. “I’ll never do anything to hurt you, and I don’t want you to disappear even if I get out of all this.”
“Even if my vanishing is what will guarantee your safety?” That she and Oscar had to go wasn’t a discussion, it was a fact.
“All you have to do is take a chance.”
“Maybe a long time ago, I would’ve had a shot at a life that maybe wasn’t normal, but close to it, but I screwed that up royally.” For the first time in her life, she wanted to let someone in. It was terrifying, and she couldn’t stop.
“Tell me, it’s okay.”
Would it be? There was only one way to know. “I could’ve had that chance, but then I accepted my first contract and I didn’t give it a second thought. I should have had some hesitation, some guilt, but I killed the bastard and met Oscar for pancakes the next morning like it was nothing. There was never one bit of remorse.”
“Who was it?” Brinley’s grip intensified some.
“He was a pimp whose specialty was young girls and boys. One of the guys at the house Oscar and I lived at worked for him, and they didn’t see a problem using the place as a recruitment spot.” The fat asshole was with a young boy when she’d put a bullet in his head. She often wondered if the kid ever got over the shock of the bastard dying on top of him. Had the kid been looking over his shoulder ever since, waiting for the bullet that never came?
“If you’re asking me to judge you, I’m not going to do it. Maybe the law should’ve dealt with someone like that, but you can’t tell me the world’s not better off without him.”
She nodded, not about to disagree with that. “You’re right, and I did the guy who was working for him at the house for free. That was an act of mercy for all the kids he would’ve ruined, but that was my start. The proof I needed that I could not only pull the trigger, but live with what I did.”
“Reed, I’m not going to hate you, no matter how hard you try.”
“That’s where I started, Brinley, but you’re where I ended. That should tell you something. I accepted a contract to kill you, and I don’t have an excuse for why, except that I’m no better than the people who hired me.” It was the first time she’d said those words out loud, though she’d often thought them. It hurt, and she waited for Brinley to agree.
“What’s that?” Brinley turned toward the window when there was a clear sound of someone running into the house.
“Brinley,” she heard someone yell. “Brinley, answer me, please.”