Cold Cases and Bitter Enemies Page 3

  “This I know. So, if you’re not looking for a body to pass the time, what are you doing here?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Not an answer, honey.”

  I sighed as I shoved my hands in my pockets and pushed off the wall with my shoulders. “I’m just not getting it. You’re the target.”

  “Obviously.”

  “But why? I mean—” I paused to take a breath. “You have more enemies than you can count. Wouldn’t it be easier to just take the kill shot and be done with it? Why the production? Why not just kill you and take the credit for taking down the last Bianchi boss?”

  “You’re the detective. I’m just an old mob boss in retirement.”

  “Carmine, as much as I adore you, don’t play that bullshit with me.”

  “Fine. I’ve come to enjoy a life of a certain status, but you know I don’t run whores or drugs. That was my old man, not me. I keep a toe in but leave the messy work for others.”

  “Anything remarkable lately?”

  “No. Seamus and I are at odds, but that’s not unusual.”

  Seamus Finnegan was a relatively new face in the city. He was a brute where Carmine was all elegance. Seamus didn’t have the patience for an operation like that. He’d drop the bodies at Carmine’s feet while looking the man in the eyes.

  “Also, this isn’t his style.”

  “No, it’s not. Your detective is a rather handsome man.” The subject change was abrupt and classic Carmine.

  I shot him a killing glare to find him smirking at me. “He’s not mine. I can barely stand him.”

  “My father said love and hate are the same things. It’s just a matter of what you want more. Do you want to fuck them or kill them? But to be honest, some of the best sex is hate sex.”

  I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped free. “Remind me never to take dating advice from you.”

  “You’d have to date in order to require advice. You look like shit, Simon, but you’re looking a lot happier in the last few years. As odd as it is, we’re friends and share a mutual respect. My children and husband have always adored you. If you ever need anything, you can always call.”

  “Thanks.”

  Back in the day, I would’ve bristled from that offer. For as long as I could remember, I’d needed to be above reproach, and that was never more apparent than when I became a cop. I was under the expectations of my fellow and superior officers. But also, my parents wouldn’t abide by the scandal attached to their names. They loved to remind me they’d worked too long and hard for me to ruin that for them.

  “Any time, as I said, we’re friends as suspicious as that has made you to Internal Affairs.”

  “They never focus on the ones who actually need closer examination.”

  “Because they don’t understand the profound power that trust and respect possess. I think Douglas gets it. But as with all men who don’t fully understand, he’s suspicious. I did some digging. He took a hit coming here. He had an established career, on his way up the ranks, but came here for his daughter.”

  A cold chill went up my spine. I didn’t like Douglas, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t protect his daughter if I needed to. Carmine was a powerful enemy to have, but I’d destroy it all if he even had a moment’s thought about touching her. “And I don’t have to remind you she’s off-limits.”

  “It pains me after our long association that you think I needed to be reminded.” Sincerity filled his voice.

  “Just making it clear. Shit.” I jerked my hands from my pockets and forced my fingers through the curls that had escaped the careful styling. “Children.”

  “What?”

  “What’s the cruelest way to send a message?”

  “Ah. Attack one’s children, but they’re not mine, and none of my men recognized them. And my father’s been gone way too long to father those young men.”

  “True. I don’t know. You know how my brain works.”

  “Throwing those knives, Simon?”

  “It’s how I work best, even if I don’t let people see my process.”

  “Are you missing Homicide that much?” he asked me.

  “No. I have no regrets about transferring out but something about all this…I can’t let it go. There’s…I don’t know. A piece is missing.”

  “The piece is the why.”

  “That, too.” My phone beeped in my pocket, and I pulled it out. “Graves,” I said without checking the number.

  “Detective, I’m getting very tired of hitting walls with your name on them.”

  I rolled my eyes at Douglas’s annoyed-sounding voice, and Carmine chuckled. I was about to answer my newest enemy when I froze as lips pressed to mine.

  “Be a good boy. I’ll see you soon.”

  I stared at Carmine’s disappearing back.

  “Why is Carmine Bianchi telling you to be a good boy? And did he…fuck! I don’t want to know. Just get your ass here. I’ll text you the address.” The phone was still against my ear when he disconnected the call.

  I shook my head as the notification pinged, and I checked the address. I was close by and made my way to the scene. I really had to stop handing out my cards. I also had to stop hanging out with the pain in the ass crime bosses that wanted to do some matchmaking through jealousy. Yet nothing Carmine did surprised me anymore.

  The strip was lit up, and I barely noticed the first responder vehicles off to the side in a paid parking lot. My SUV rolled to a stop. I opened the door, slid from my seat and pulled out my badge on the chain from under my jacket. I stood back for a few minutes to watch Douglas and Davian go toe-to-toe. My friend barely came to the big detective’s chest.

  “Well, Detective, you sure make friends everywhere you go.”

  “Graves, you know this one?” Davian asked.

  “Unfortunately. Are you okay, honey? Let me see.” I grabbed Davian’s face and checked the damage. “Good thing you’re a pro at cover-up.” He had the start of a black eye and some dried blood around his nostrils, but he seemed okay. I released him as I turned to stand beside him.

  “You know I’ve had worse.” I caught his expression as I glanced at him as his eyes went skyward, and that made his thick, fake lashes flutter.

  “Why am I lucky tonight?” I asked as Douglas growled and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at us like he wanted to bust us both.

  “Roo is sick. I didn’t want to call Remy to leave her.”

  “It’s fine, just tell me what happened?”

  “I ran out of condoms, and I was headed to the Outreach. I saw two big guys, complete muscle, but looked like they stepped off the screen of a mob movie. Next thing I know, I’m getting hit, and I take off running. I didn’t even see anything until I came out of hiding and found the body. Doc wasn’t on duty tonight.”

  “You need to see a paramedic?”

  “No, but my night is over with. I’m going home to a bath, chocolate, and Idris Elba.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Was that so hard to say? Couldn’t you tell me you didn’t see shit but two guys in suits?” Douglas’s bass voice dipped even lower with his frustration.

  I snorted as Davian raked his gaze over the detective and sucked his teeth with disgust.

  “Is your name Kauffman, Graves, Stevenson, or Warner?” He didn’t even pause. “No, it’s not. Can I go now?”

  “Yeah, come down to the precinct tomorrow, today, whatever, and give a statement. Are you okay with that?”

  “For you, Graves, anything.”

  “Thanks, honey. Have fun with Idris.”

  “You know I will.” Davian sent Douglas one more dirty look, and I watched him until he disappeared.

  “This isn’t your crime scene,” he yelled at me as he closed the few feet that separated us until he loomed over me, but I refused to react.

  “And you’re not making friends.”

  “I don’t need to make friends. I have a job to do.”

  “Well, you’re doing a really shoddy job.”

  “You’ve just been waiting on this. I don’t need you or your unit’s damn permission to talk to witnesses to a crime. That isn’t how shit works.”

  “Well, down here, that’s the only way it works.” I turned to walk off.

  “You fucking crime bosses now, Simon? Is that what does it for you?”

  I stopped mid-step and pivoted on my toe. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  “You heard me. You’re not an idiot. No wonder he was so friendly. I bet you gave it up easily, too.”

  “Listen, asshole, who I fuck or don’t fuck has nothing to do with you. Carmine could bend me over in the middle of his club, and you still wouldn’t get a fucking say. Now, do your goddamn job and stay out of my way.”

  I didn’t run back to my vehicle, but I didn’t pause as he yelled my name as the people at the scene stared between us until I was safely in the driver’s seat and headed home. I was several blocks away before I noticed the death grip I had on the steering wheel. I should’ve knocked his fucking teeth out, but decorum won. Next time, I didn’t know if I’d be able to control myself.

  4

  DOUGLAS

  I’d come home from the crime scene and barely took time to remove my tie and jacket, before grabbing a beer and plopping down at my kitchen table. I’d fucked up, and I’d known it as soon as the accusation was out. Hell, I didn’t understand why I’d even said it, but then he’d squared up, and I’d doubled down. I didn’t know what had come over me. I’d heard Carmine’s voice in my ear telling Simon to be a good boy, and Simon wouldn’t even be civil to me. Yet as soon as I’d seen him, he looked mussed and happy. His carefully styled hair showed off beautiful black curls, and I wondered if Carmine had tangled them around his fingers, and I got pissed. I didn’t even like Simon in that sense. Although, that didn’t explain my anger at Carmine’s voice and the obvious sound of a kiss.

  All I could picture while waiting for Simon to arrive at the scene was the image in my head that I’d interrupted them. Carmine and Simon curled up in bed, cuddling, and I’d wanted to rage at or hit something. Instead, I’d accused Simon of fucking the man like I was a jealous lover or boyfriend.

  “What did you do?”

  I jerked my head up to find Savannah standing in the kitchen doorway. “Hey, why aren’t you still asleep?” She was wearing pajama bottoms and a tank top, her hair piled in a messy knot on the top of her head. Even at thirteen, I could still see her as a three-year-old in her princess nightgown and asking me to read her a story.

  “It’s Friday night, teenagers we do that, ya know, stay up all night, but it’s been a long time since…”

  I playfully growled at her. Donna and I’d never planned to have kids, so when we were both thirty-five, and a sudden illness caused us to panic, we’d rushed to the doctor. When they told us she was pregnant, we’d been shocked. That didn’t mean we hadn’t been happy, though. And our daughter loved to point out we’d be eligible for Social Security by the time she graduated high school.

  “You can stop there.”

  “So, what did you do?” she asked again as she came to sit down at the table. I lifted my arm, and my fingers tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

  “Why do you think I did something?”

  “Because you always have that look when you’re feeling guilty. It can be a fight with mom when y’all were married. A case you didn’t think you were solving quickly enough. It’s always the same look.”

  “I got frustrated with someone and said some shit I shouldn’t have.”

  “Say you’re sorry.” I smiled at how simple she’d made it sound.

  “Sweetie, all I’ve done is try to apologize to him since shortly after we met and got off on the wrong foot. And I keep fucking it up.”

  “Am I finally going to meet a boyfriend?” She batted her lashes.

  I’d never been out because of being in the military, and then I was married to her mom for twenty-one years. Being Pansexual was more something I just was but never really had practice at. Yet when we’d had the sex talk with Savannah, we’d told her who she loved, no matter their gender, was all about making her happy and that I was Pan. As a biracial kid, she already had to deal with racism. Our home was always love is love.

  But I also hadn’t dated since the divorce. With retiring from the Marines and the new career path, relationships weren’t on the top of my to-do list.

  “He hates me.”

  “That’s because you were probably an asshole.” We’d never corrected her love of profanity inside our houses. Her mother and I weren’t the best role models when it came to language. Outside of our home, Savannah was a perfectly polite kid. “Mom has had two boyfriends since the divorce and several dates, and what have you had…nothing.”

  “You’re just vicious tonight.” I tapped my half-empty bottle on the table.

  “Blame it on the hormones. We girls get like that sometimes.”

  “We do not stereotype in this house.” I smiled as she giggled at me.

  “What does he like?”

  “Coffee. His nieces and nephews. Something called a three AM hangover special made by a waitress called Mama Sue. He loves giving me shit.”

  “The giving you shit is probably his favorite thing.”

  “Probably, I wouldn’t put it past him.” Not many men would go up against a man my size, but Simon hadn’t backed down once. His skin had flushed, and his green eyes had darkened with fury.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Simon. He’s a detective in the Cold Case Unit. I took over some of the cases he left when he transferred out of Homicide.”

  “Did you pick them apart?”

  “Am I that predictable?” She nodded enthusiastically. “You’re not good for my guilt right now.”

  “Not part of my job. What is part of my job as your daughter is helping you make up for being an asshole perfectionist.”

  “Oh, wise one, how would you suggest I do that?” I asked as I leaned my forearms on the table, and she mirrored me with a small smile.

  “Do something he totally doesn’t see coming.”

  I groaned. “That’s how I got in trouble in the first place.”

  I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to Simon. I’d always found I could hold my temper in any situation, but with him, I wanted to push. He was confident in his job. He had a weird, found family, but I couldn’t fault the way they were with each other. I’d seen it when Doc had delivered a baby of a few friends in the morgue, and they’d rallied to get the homeless couple housing and everything they’d need. It was like they hadn’t even seen it as them doing more than what needed done. It was completely selfless, and it didn’t make sense to me. When they came together when Doc was taken by a suspect who turned out to be a former boyfriend of Doc’s, they’d had sources from everywhere going above and beyond. That wasn’t just co-workers. That was family and loyalty above all else.

  “What else does he like that you didn’t mention?”

  I bent my arms and scrubbed my hands over my beard, and reminded myself I needed to make time for a trim. I thought about her question, and the conversation I overheard came back to me. “The Outreach. He’s supposed to be there tomorrow night.” I knew he was babysitting but would that work in my favor?

  “Why don’t we go?”

  “We? I didn’t agree to a we.” Simon wasn’t a potential boyfriend. I’d do with one less enemy, though. I’d go, I’d say sorry, but I didn’t want my daughter involved. My luck, she’d like Simon and then take his side, not what I needed in my life.

  “Come on. You have an adorable daughter. How can he stay mad at you with me around? He’ll have to listen and not fight because I’m there.”

  “You think that’ll work?” I couldn’t believe I was considering bringing her into the mix. It wasn’t her place to make things right. Again, I reminded myself of my promise to let her be a kid, but she kept wanting to fix things. That had always been her personality, and as much as we fostered her strong individuality, we always wanted her to take time for herself and not worry about everyone else. Fuck, she was just like Simon, and I was screwed.

  “Can’t hurt to try, and I really want to meet the guy who stands up to you.”

  “I see your logic now.” I knew there needed to be an ulterior motive.

  “It’s flawless.” Fuck, now she sounded like Doc.

  “I’m not so sure about that. You really want to go?”

  “Yeah. The Outreach is pretty well-known around here. They’re always on the news. Mom used to mention it, and some of my friend’s parents volunteer with some of the programs. I’d like to see it.”

  “Okay, we’ll go, but don’t get your hopes up that anything is going to get fixed. Now, go to bed. You’re a teenager, but you need sleep, and I’m not far behind. I thought Chicago was bad for the middle of the night calls.”

  “Yeah, and you need to do something about this,” She tugged the hair on my chin. “All that gray, you’re looking pretty old.”

  “That’s what happens when you’re almost fifty with a teenager.”

  “That was uncalled for.” She huffed as she got up. “At least do something with yourself. How do you expect to get a boyfriend looking like that?” she asked as she motioned toward me, and then she was gone.

  “I love you, too,” I yelled as I collapsed back and finished off my lukewarm beer.

  I had to figure out what this antagonism I had for Simon was. The man was gorgeous. He really did look like a model. I knew he was in his early forties. I think his file had said forty-three, but it definitely didn’t look like he was. He had that tall, lean frame that spoke of hours working out. Yet, with the schedule he kept, I didn’t see him spending much time in a gym.