Four

I was at once relieved and disappointed that Jack didn’t try to contact me over the next two days. He wasn’t the kind of guy to give up easily, but he hadn’t shown up with the proof he promised, so I had to assume what I’d seen was real. Still, that didn’t stop me from holding my breath every time the elevator dinged down the hall from my office, or from feeling crushed all over again when someone else walked in the door.

By midweek, I’d let too much slide, so I got to work early and focused on catching up. After letting Janice go, I had downsized to a smaller office on the same floor and had pared down my furniture to a desk and credenza, two chairs, and a small table. I’d kept the same white-and-sage-themed decor and filled the empty shelves with plants. I had just finished my watering regime when Simone Du Post walked in the door.

Simone and I had met last year at a charity ball I’d crashed with Jack. We were hoping to convince Bella Angelini, the daughter of Mafia boss Joseph Angelini, to hire our then-sham event planning company to organize her wedding so we could steal the Wild Heart necklace from her father’s safe and return it to its rightful owner to save Chloe from jail.

Tall and slim, with a mass of blond curls and a thick Southern accent, Simone had taken a shine to me at the ball after we’d hit it off over the travesty of our matching handbags. She had kindly offered to introduce me to the Angelinis and recommend my event-planning business to all her society friends. After the ball, she’d thrown her $2,000 bag in the trash—because that’s what the billionaire elite do if someone has the same bag as them. I pawned mine to pay Chloe’s rent after her deadbeat ex failed to make his support payments yet again.

Simone’s word was gold in high-society circles, and when I first started running the company, she’d sent a few clients my way, giving me the false impression that my business was destined to be a success. With the reward money left over after I’d paid off my parents’ mortgage and my student loans, I went on a spending spree—high-rent office, experienced receptionist, branding advisor, and even an expensive PR company to spread the word that there was a new event-planning company in town.

You’d think with a business degree, I would have been less naive about the competitiveness of the event-planning business in Chicago, but I just kept spending, confident that at some point, the work would come flooding in. When I’d run the business almost into the ground, Simone had suggested I move into the less-competitive area of funerals and celebrations of life, and she just happened to have a friend who died, so I could make a fresh start.

Funerals were events, too. Just not happy ones.

“Darling.” Dressed in head-to-toe pink Dior, Simone blew me a kiss as she settled in the chair across from my desk. She loved slumming it with regular folk like me and always made the driver of her Bentley park halfway down the block so she could enjoy the sidewalk experience. “How are the funeral plans coming along? Martha was such a dear friend. I want everything to be perfect.”

“I’ve taken care of the floral arrangements for the service,” I said. “I was thinking something low-key for the celebration of life since it is…uh…a somber event.”

“Don’t be such a bore, Simsim.” Simone waved a vague dismissive hand in the air. “The service is the sad part. Afterward it’s about good food, good friends, good gossip, and good clothes. That’s what Martha would have wanted. She was always the life of the funeral after-parties. I want to send her out in style. How about some jugglers and magicians to circulate among the guests, and fireworks at the end? Martha loved fireworks.”

“People might think it’s in bad taste for a celebration of life,” I suggested.

“Maybe your people; not mine.”

I made a few notes on my phone. “Are you sure the family will be okay with a more ‘festive’ atmosphere?”

“They’re thrilled she’s gone,” Simone said. “She had the family fortune tied up in a trust. We’re talking eight figures. I’m pretty sure they won’t even be at the party. They’re too busy planning how to spend her money.” She leaned closer. “If you ask me, her death wasn’t an accident.”

My eyes widened. “You think her family killed her?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t have done it themselves,” she said. “We hire people for that sort of thing.”

“Of course,” I said, as if I, too, wouldn’t want to get my hands dirty when bumping off a relative for money.

“I think a photo booth might be fun,” she mused. “Or how about that elephant you got for the Angelini wedding?”

“I know a police detective,” I said, concerned about poor Martha’s untimely demise. “If you think she was pushed, I could give him a call. He works in high-end theft, but I’m sure he knows people in homicide.”

“Oh God. No.” Simone gave a light laugh. “They wouldn’t want strangers walking through the house and asking questions. It’s a private matter.”

“Murder is a private matter?”

“We call it an accident.” She reached over and patted my hand. “It happens all the time. The more money you have, and the bigger the family, the higher the chance you might have an unexpected fatal accident. It’s an occupational hazard.”

“I think I’d choose poor and alive over rich and prematurely deceased.”

Simone’s light laughter echoed around the room. “You are so amusing, darling. That’s why I love you so.”

I heard the ding of the elevator and the thud of footsteps in the hallway. I wasn’t expecting any other clients, and Chloe and Olivia weren’t due to come by until late afternoon, but by the time it had even occurred to me to be concerned, it was too late. Two huge broad-shouldered men in dark suits and sunglasses walked through the door, and behind them was a man who dominated the office through the force of his presence alone.

He was wearing an expensive tailored suit that was unmistakably Italian, the fabric hugging his muscular frame. His jet-black hair was slicked back, revealing eyes so dark and intense they seemed to penetrate my very soul. Menace dripped from every pore of his body, and it took all my effort to stay calm and collected as he made his way across the office toward me.

For the briefest of moments, I entertained the possibility that he needed a wedding planned, maybe a bar mitzvah or funeral. But when one of his goons slammed the door and then stood against it, thick arms folded across his chest, blocking our only way out, I suspected the only funeral in my future might be my own.

I quickly pushed my phone off my desk and onto my lap. Thank God for Face ID. As soon I saw the messaging screen, I scrolled to Garcia’s name and typed, Help. Office. Now.

“Madam.” The stranger lifted Simone’s hand, his voice rough and gravelly. “I apologize for interrupting your meeting, but I have business that simply cannot wait. Tony Angelini at your service.”

“Simone Du Post.” Her cheeks flushed when he kissed her hand. “Simi and I were just about done.” She moved to stand. “I’ll leave you to your business.”

“No. Stay.” He gestured to one of his megaliths, who dropped a heavy hand on Simone’s shoulder, holding her in place. “In a way, this also involves you since you introduced Simi to my brother at the charity ball. It’s become a family concern, a matter of honor.”

“Your brother?” Simone frowned. “I don’t recall…”

“Joseph Angelini.”

“Why, yes, I did.” Simone gave a cautious smile. “And his daughter hired Simi’s company to run her wedding. I heard it was a tremendous success.”

“The wedding, yes.” He nodded. “But unfortunately, something went missing during the festivities. Something very important to my family. Something my brother was holding for a friend.”

Bile rose in my throat when he turned those dark eyes on me. In addition to his multimillion-dollar casino and real estate businesses, my visitor’s brother, mob boss Joseph Angelini, also acted as a fence, brokering the sale of high-end stolen jewelry for both national and international buyers. Someone had retained his services to sell the Wild Heart necklace after it had been stolen from a museum, and Chloe had been framed for the theft. Jack and I had put together a heist crew to “retrieve” it from his safe under cover of the wedding I had planned for his daughter. I’d always known there was a risk he’d suspect my crew was behind the theft, but after a year had gone by, I figured we were in the clear.

“How unfortunate,” Simone said, sparing me yet again the need to put together a coherent sentence. “I also lost something important to my husband’s family at the charity ball, so I completely understand how you must feel.”

“We’ve been searching for the culprit since the wedding,” Mr. Angelini said, nodding. “Imagine how pleased we were to receive a tip that led us here. Apparently, several of Simi’s employees were involved.”

Simone gave an exasperated sigh. “Isn’t that always the way? I was just telling poor Simi that you can’t get good help these days. I spend most of my time dealing with staff issues. It is so aggravating.”

“Indeed.” Mr. Angelini lifted a bushy eyebrow. “I understand my item found its way into the hands of a man who has a close relationship with our Simi.” He nodded at the goon standing at the door, who knocked one of Jack’s plants off the credenza. The pot shattered on the tile floor with a loud crack and the room filled with the rich, earthy smell of soil, mingling with the scent of Simone’s perfume and my rising fear.

Simone flinched, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh my.”

“Where is he?” Mr. Angelini narrowed his gaze, and my mouth went dry.

“I don’t know.”

“Surely you know where your boyfriend is.” He tipped his head to the side again and the goon knocked over two more plants, sending them plummeting to the ground with a resounding crash. The sound echoed through the office and Simone glanced at me, her eyes wide with horror. I could see the panic bubbling beneath the surface of her composed façade, a reflection of my own.

“He’s not my boyfriend. I caught him kissing someone else. We broke up.”

The goon yanked a picture off my wall and smashed it over his thick thigh. I looked down at my phone again to see if Garcia had received my message.

Mr. Angelini’s second henchman pulled out a gun. “Hands where I can see them.”

Simone and I raised our hands. The dude came around the desk, plucked the phone off my lap, and tossed it in the trash.

“Is this what people call a setup?” Simone asked me.

“I’d call it more of a shakedown.”

“Consider it a friendly request,” Mr. Angelini said, leaning back in his chair. “I want Jack Danger and I want the Wild Heart necklace—not the value in cash but the actual necklace. And, of course, the interest that we’ve had to pay our buyer while trying to locate our stolen goods, and interest on the interest for our inconvenience. That’s an additional 28 percent on the increased value of the necklace, which is now worth $30 million. I’ll leave you to work out the math. Capisce?”

“That’s Italian for ‘do you understand,’ ” Simone whispered. “My mother is Italian.”

“Twenty-eight percent?” I stared at him, aghast. “That’s what credit card companies charge.”

“You’re right,” he said evenly. “Let’s call it an even 30 percent. I wouldn’t want anyone to mistake me for Visa or Mastercard.”

Simone reached across the desk and touched my arm. “Simsim, darling. I think you should quit while you’re ahead.”

I fully agreed so I moved on to my biggest concern. “Why do you want Jack?” I didn’t actually need him to tell me. Jack had not only helped us steal the Wild Heart from Mr. Angelini’s brother, but also stolen Simone’s necklace at the charity ball and planted it in Joseph Angelini’s safe. When the police searched the house, they found Simone’s necklace along with evidence linking Joseph Angelini to multiple crimes, including the death of Jack’s grandmother. Now Joseph Angelini was in jail, and it was clear his Mafia family had come for revenge.

“I think that’s obvious,” he said.

“But then why do you need me? I don’t have the necklace and I don’t have Jack.”

“You were involved.” He lifted his chin again and his goon went back to playing Smash Bros. with my plants until the only one left was Garcia’s Boston fern. “You and your friends: Jack, Gage, Anil, Rose, Chloe, Cristian, and Emma. I hold you all responsible.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “A new acquaintance gave me a list of their names. I know where they live, where they work, where their families live, where Chloe’s child goes to school—”

“Leave her out of this.” I shot out of my seat. “If you even go near Olivia—”

Mr. Angelini laughed. “What are you going to do? Call your police friend? I have information about you that I’m sure you wouldn’t want him to know, information that would implicate not just you, but all your friends in all manner of crimes.” He stood and adjusted his suit jacket just enough that I could see the weapon holstered underneath. “You and your crew, and of course darling Simone, have four weeks to return the necklace and pay the vig.”

“ ‘Vig’ is slang for interest paid to loan sharks,” Simone whispered. “I remember it from The Sopranos.”

“What if we can’t get the necklace back?” I asked him.

“Then you’ll have eight funerals to plan before your own. Your business will go out with a bang.” He laughed at his own joke. His henchmen waited a beat and then laughed, too.

“Simone isn’t part of this,” I protested.

Mr. Angelini shrugged. “She should take care when she makes a referral. It puts her reputation on the line, and in her circles, reputation is everything.” He smiled through the veiled threat and bent to kiss Simone’s hand again as his henchman opened the door. “You truly are exquisite. It’s been a pleasure.”

I heard the ding of the elevator, the rapid thud of feet in the hall. Moments later, Garcia appeared in the doorway. He took one look around the room and his hand dropped to the weapon holstered at his side.

“I got your message.” His eyes narrowed at my uninvited guest as he walked into the office. “Is everything okay?”

Mr. Angelini held up his phone to show me a picture of Olivia in front of her school. My heart pounded in my chest, and I had to take a deep, calming breath before I lied. “Yes, everything’s good. I think there must have been a minor earthquake. My plants just fell to the ground.”

“Our business is concluded, so I’ll be on my way.” Mr. Angelini placed a card on my desk with nothing but a phone number on it. “I look forward to seeing you on the big day.”

“Simi?” Garcia moved back to the doorway, blocking their way. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Yes,” I said with a confidence I didn’t feel in the least. “Everything is great. I’ve got some new work to keep me busy.”

Garcia reluctantly stepped to the side to allow Mr. Angelini and his henchman to depart. Simone stood and straightened her dress. “I’ll get going, too. I must call Moira. She’ll die when I tell her about my afternoon. Dead. What a fascinating man. And he said you had a thief on your staff. You really need to take care with your hiring. I just let one of my housekeepers go because I caught her eating a banana. It seems a small thing, but if you let one of the staff eat a banana, then they’ll all eat bananas and at the end of the day there will be no bananas left for Richard or me.”

“She’s high society,” I murmured to Garcia as she swept out the door.

“I figured it was that or Mars.”

Garcia took a seat in front of my desk and stretched out his legs. “Do you want to tell me what Tony Angelini was doing in your office with his enforcers?”

“You know who he is?”

“Everyone knows who he is. He’s the boss of the Eastern Seaboard branch of La Cosa Nostra, aka the Italian Mafia. His brother Joseph Angelini was an underboss. Tony directs a vast network of criminal activity that spans Chicago, Philadelphia, and parts of New Jersey. He sets the rules for all LCN families and collects profits from illegal activities that are siphoned upward through the LCN command structure and back to Italy.” He folded his arms behind his head. “He doesn’t usually go out in the open because he has so many enemies. It’s quite something that of all the times he would choose to take that risk, it was to come here to see you.”

“He needs an event planned.” I wasn’t lying. Not exactly. He did need an event planned: the retrieval of a $30 million necklace currently on display at one of the most secure museums in Delhi, where Jack had repatriated it after our last heist.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?” His voice softened. “It was bad enough when you got mixed up with his brother, but this guy, Simi; you don’t want to mess with him.”

“I can’t tell you,” I blurted out. “Client confidentiality.”

His forehead wrinkled. “Is it Jack? Has he got you involved in something bad again? He’s trouble. I told you that before.”

“It’s not Jack’s fault.”

“Whatever is going on…” His blue eyes darkened. “Tell me you won’t have to deal with it alone.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I have my crew.”