“It counts for everything,” I assured him. “That’s why I called you.”
He gave me an assessing look then swept his gaze over the tiny coffee shop Yara had once taken me to that was little more than a window cut into the side of a building. “Not your normal style. First you disappear and then you ask me to meet you at a coffee shop of a known Camorra associate.” His eyebrow hiked into his forehead, but he tone wasn’t judgmental. “Am I right in assuming things have changed between you and Dante Salvatore?”
I took my left hand from beneath the table and presented it to him. The red diamond ring had arrived that morning courtesy of Gatto himself who made me put it on right there in the doorway to see how it looked.
It was stunning.
Four and a half carats of wine-red diamond cut into a gorgeous oval shape and otherwise unadorned on the slim gold band beneath it. Simple, unique, and one hundred percent Dante.
I loved it.
Ric stared at the ring a little gobsmacked. “You married the Don?”
I shrugged. “He was difficult to resist.”
My friend blinked at me then tossed his head back to laugh, the sharp yips like a hyaena but oddly charming. “Oh, Elena, you are an enigma.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I decided, when before I might have thought he meant it as an insult.
“You should, absolutely. Now, I’m curious. Why did you call me?”
“Dennis O’Malley is corrupt. I caught him meeting with the Irish mob a few weeks ago and when we tried to get him to recuse himself, he laughed in our faces. He’s got Judge Hartford in his pocket and he’s determined to use Dante’s case a springboard to State Senator.” I took a sip of the thick, bitter espresso in front of me, rallying my confidence to ask what I needed to ask. When I looked up at Ric again, my eyes were wide with intensity. “I called because I want to ask for your help. I want you to dig up whatever you can find on him.”
He frowned. “The firm already did a background check.”
I gave him a pointed look. “Not through you and not deep enough. I’m asking you to go above and beyond here, Ric. As a friend.”
His mouth dropped open slightly and I knew he was shocked I would ask him to do something unethical. The old Elena was as morally sound as they came, but I’d left her behind somewhere between Staten Island and Napoli.
He was quiet for a long time, studying me, peeling back my skin and bones to read what was written in my blood. I thought he would say no. In fact, I opened my mouth to tell him to forget it when he leaned back in his chair, affecting a casual pose with his legs crossed and fingers steepled.
“Okay.”
I blinked. “Sorry, what?”
His lips twitched. “Okay, this is no big thing. Of course, I will look into him for you.”
“No big thing?” I echoed, a little foolishly.
“Do you remember representing my cousin when he was busted for possession last year?” he reminded me.
I nodded, but I didn’t think that had any bearing. I was just doing my job and helping out a friend. He hadn’t asked me to do anything illegal or unethical like I was asking for now.
“And do you remember when my sister assaulted the woman who slept with her husband?”
Another nod. That one was hard to forget, Carmen Stavos was a firecracker.
“And do you know, we have worked together for years and you are the only associate who never made me feel like their servant?”
Ah, well that I could believe. Most of them were pricks only focused on their own upward mobility.
“So,” Ric concluded. “This is no big thing. We are friends, Elena, I would do this for you even if you had not done so much for me. I’ll look into Hartford too and let you know what I can find.”
I blinked owlishly, because it occurred to me that I hadn’t really known if Ric and I were friends. We got along and I enjoyed working with him, but I always assumed he just thought of me as some vaguely pleasant associate.
It said a lot about my mental state before Dante that I discounted a friendship because I automatically assumed they didn’t want to be friends with someone like me.
It made me grieve for the woman I’d been and rejoice for the progress I’d made in the last few months.
“Thanks, Ric,” I said, letting some of that tenderness seep into my tone. “That means a lot.”
“Hey, don’t forget, you’re a powerful lady now. Maybe you’ll be able to do a big favor for me some day,” he teased.
“Well, while we’re on the topic of favors, there is something else,” I confessed. “Have you heard of the di Carlo brothers in the Cosa Nostra?”
He snorted. “Anyone in law, police work, or the media knows the di Carlo brothers.”
“They’ve gone to war against the Camorra.”
“Ah.” He rubbed his chin as he pondered the situation. “Because they think Dante killed Giuseppe di Carlo?”
The coffee shop was on a quiet street and it was too cold to be sitting outside really, so Ric and I were the only ones sitting bundled up on the chairs in front of the shop, but I still lowered my voice. “They know he didn’t. Apparently, the brothers were the ones to order the drive-by to take out their own uncle and get power for themselves.”
Ric let out a long, low whistle. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you the world you just married into is violent as hell.”
“You do not.” I could still remember Rocco Abruzzi’s brain blown out all over the back wall of his office like it happened two minutes ago. I knew I would live with that memory for the rest of my life.
“So what did the Camorra do to them?”
“Nothing so far as I can tell,” I said honestly. “I’m wondering if you can look into that too? See why they’ve targeted this Family first. I think they have plans to take it all eventually, but there must be something personal there.”
“Yeah, I’m inclined to agree.” He had that look on his face he got when a good case landed in his lap, all quivering, animal excitement like a hound whose caught a scent. “I’ll get going, got some leads I want to hit up before it gets too late.”
He stood up to go so I did too, initiating the cheek kisses for the first time in our friendship. When I finished, I kept hold of his shoulders and gave them a squeeze.
“Thank you, Ric. This means a lot to me.”
He grinned at me, knocking my chin lightly with his fist. “Don’t mention. I’m only too happy to help the female gladiator at Fields, Harding & Griffith.”
I laughed. “I could lose my licence for marrying Dante.”
He knew how much being a lawyer meant to me so he frowned. “Worth it?”
My hand went to Dante’s cross beneath my bulky knit sweater. “Worth it.”
My next stop was to visit my old idol and current nemesis. The Winthrop Gun Club was an exclusive, members only brick building in the Flatiron District. It was where decorated policemen, wealthy gun enthusiasts, and right-wing politicians spent their time schmoozing and rubbing elbows with the right crowd.
Happily, my woman’s doctor, Monica Taylor, and her husband were members and she was able to secure a visitor’s pass for my partner and I to tour the facilities in case we wanted to join too.