“I’d like to speak with my client before you place him in holding.”
Delaney just grunted. “Stay here.”
Twenty minutes later, just when I was starting to wonder if the cop had forgotten my request, or if it was being ignored, Luciu returned. I explained the situation, and I empathized with his irritation at being held overnight.
“Do you want me to speak with Custanzu?”
He shook his head. “If bail wasn't made today, and I was charged, I know that a plan is already in play.”
Warily, I asked, “What is it?”
“Better if you don’t know. But when you get an emergency call, make sure they take me to Bellevue Hospital.”
I blinked. “Why? You won’t be able to visit—”
“Just do it, Rachel,” he interrupted before I could finish my sentence, and with a smirk, he told me, “Bail won’t be a problem.”
The door opened a scant second later and Luciu was guided out, leaving me wondering what the hell kind of plan was underway and if I even wanted to goddamn know.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Busy?
I tried calling but it went through to voicemail. Everything okay?
K
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re. Busy?
Yeah. One of my clients got arrested. It was a clusterfuck.
I’m rammed solid. Still, he got beaten in jail so New York City is paying for that mess, haha. I love making the government pay through their noses for this shit.
Anyway, one of the licenses I got passed through was rejected so I’m thinking someone Maverick bribed decided to fuck us over. But I know you don’t want to hear about that yet, and that’s fine.
I might not call, but I’ll reply to an email before I crash.
R
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re. Busy?
I should have said this before…
I love you.
R
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re. Busy?
As much as I appreciate corrupt councilors, it pisses me off when you can’t rely on their corruption. Fuck’s sake. But you’re right—I want a sabbatical from the Sinners. Fancy talk for a Prez of a bunch of outlaws, but I don’t give a flying fuck. I need a break. You do too. If anyone’s as overworked as I am, it’s you.
I love you. Get some rest. Don’t worry about emailing back. We’ll talk when things have calmed down for you.
And re: your client? Go get that DA, babe.
Love,
K
Lodestar: I have a theory
Conor: What kind of a theory?
Lodestar: A working one
Conor: LOL. Okay. If you say so.
Lodestar: Aren’t you going to ask what it is?
Conor: Do you want me to tease it out of you?
Lodestar: Maybe.
Conor: Ha.
Lodestar: Pfft. Seeing as that’s NOT going to happen, do you want to know what it is?
Conor: I don’t have anything better to do right now, so sure.
Lodestar: So welcoming.
Conor: I try.
Lodestar: Have you heard about the hockey player who’s been kidnapped?
Conor: Canadian guy?
Lodestar: Yeah.
Conor: Liam Dougal or something.
Lodestar: Donnghal.
Conor: Makes sense. From the little I’ve read on the subject, it seemed to be a professional job. But, whatever… What about him?
Lodestar: I think he’s not the first.
Conor: To be kidnapped?
Lodestar: Nope.
Conor: What makes you think that?
Lodestar: How truthful do you want me to be?
Conor: Where were you snooping?
Lodestar: Do you really want to know?
Conor: If I say yes, would you tell me?
Lodestar: Wouldn’t waste my time if I didn’t.
Conor: Fair point
Lodestar: Plus, you and me, we’re, you know…
Conor: What?
Lodestar: You know.
Conor: Do I? I think you should spell it out.
Lodestar: Fuck off.
Conor: Lol. /sarcasm But yeah, I know what you mean.
Lodestar: You do?
Conor: Uhhuh
Lodestar: Good.
Conor: Good.
Lodestar: So. Donnghal… You want to know my source or you okay just knowing that I have my facts straight?
Conor: You’ll tell me when you’re ready?
Lodestar: I will.
Conor: Okay, so, what about Donegal.
Lodestar: DONNGHAL. Jesus. You don’t watch hockey, huh?
Conor: Do you?
Lodestar: Of course.
Conor: I’ll watch it with you.
Lodestar: You will?
Conor: Yeah.
Lodestar: Okay, well, that’s a date, then.
Conor: Sure.
Lodestar: So I think this is a kidnapping ring.
Conor: Think? You wouldn’t approach me if it was just a ‘think.’ You need to start remembering that it’s straight from God’s lips to my ears when I’m dealing with you, Star.
Conor: Go on then. What do you KNOW?
Lodestar: Maybe I would.
Conor: Maybe you would, what?
Lodestar: ‘Think.’ You know, not have concrete facts when I approach you. That a problem?
Conor: No. Not at all.
Lodestar: Really?
Conor: I’d like to be your sounding board more often.
Lodestar: Huh. Okay. You want me to be your sounding board?
Conor: You usually are.
Lodestar: Not always.
Conor: No. But only because sometimes I don’t want you to get involved.
Lodestar: Like with the guy who set up your ma?
Conor: Yeah.
Lodestar: You know I’d have helped, right? That’s not your scene…
Conor: You won’t like why I didn’t tell you.
Lodestar: Go on.
Conor: I didn’t want you to get your hands dirty.
Lodestar: My hands are a lot dirtier than that.
Conor: Doesn’t mean I don’t want to stop you from having to do that kind of stuff.
Lodestar: Why?
Conor: God knows.
Lodestar: Bull.
Conor: I’ve been reading Austen.
Lodestar: As in Jane?
Conor: As in Jane.
Lodestar: Why?
Conor: Why not?
Lodestar: They don’t fuck in those books, do they?
Conor: Lol. If they did, I missed those scenes.
Lodestar: I’ll bet you did.
Conor: I think they’d have been a lot more popular if Darcy dicked Elizabeth down in Pemberley.
Lodestar: I’ll bet. Okay, so what does Darcy have to do with you trying to keep me out of wet work?
Conor: Does it really matter?
Lodestar: Uh, yeah? I’m not Elizabeth Bennet, Conor. I don’t need to be looked after.
Conor: Neither do I.
Lodestar: Okaaaay.
Conor: That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like it.