The officer chuckled. “Some of us have interesting methods of interviewing.”
“Or some of you just like to have fun.”
“Or you’re lying.”
Luca didn’t bother replying to that. What would be the point? He didn’t intend to shoot himself in the foot ... or stick it in his mouth, for that matter.
“See,” the cop continued, still eyeing Luca for even the slightest sign of a lie, not that he would find it, “security footage tells us a lot about your movements and our mysterious woman’s last night. What we’re slightly more interested in than the fact you seemed to take the same stairwell where one of the Smithenson family’s security detail was found unconscious is what we saw in the elevator.”
“Which was?”
“You talked to her. She didn’t talk back. What did you say?”
“Can’t remember,” Luca replied easily.
Or lied easily.
Depending on how one wanted to look at it.
“You seemed familiar. Like you knew her.”
The cop who hadn’t even bothered to introduce himself to Luca reached for a paper on top of a pile he had sat on the table at the end of the bed. Holding the one on the top up, it was a photo of Penny and Luca standing side by side in the elevator. It didn’t show Penny’s face—the wide brim of her hat hid that. Her white hair was visible, however, as was the way he clearly looked at her from the side with a grin that spoke of interest. Couldn’t hide that.
The man was right.
Luca did recognize her—there was a familiarity in his actions. There was also something else he could use for his current situation. Another lie.
“Can’t see her face there but you should have,” Luca said, chuckling under his breath. “Chick was hot—fuck me for taking a shot.”
The cop cleared his throat. “Clearly it didn’t work. The bitch stuck you with a needle the first chance she could.”
“Yeah, shitty luck, huh?” Then, Luca arched a brow. “Did you catch her face at all?”
“No,” the man replied. “Well, Mr. Kutner, thank you for ... your lack of help. We will be in touch should we think of anything else. And if you remember something else—”
“I’ll be sure to call.”
“I’m sure.”
Yeah, Luca knew that tone. The cop couldn’t say he was lying but thought he was; Luca wouldn’t verify or deny and since everything they had on record about him currently was a lie ... they weren’t coming back. They couldn’t.
Just before the cop walked out of the room, he turned back with a finger pointed at Luca like a loaded gun when he asked, “And how do you remember nothing except for the fact she was attractive?”
Luca said the first bullshit to come to his mind because at this point, what did it really matter? “Spent five grand last night to eat with a bunch of bastards, got lost in the hotel, didn’t even get the meal I paid for, and I got knocked out by some woman you think murdered a man. The only good thing about my night was her face. You’re surprised I remembered it?”
“A little, yeah.”
The man didn’t offer anything more before making his presence scarce. Luca made quick work of pulling out the blazer he’d stuffed in a dirty laundry bin. Either the medics and cops hadn’t noticed the blood during his treatment and observation the night before, or they thought it was related to his injuries.
Or they foolishly overlooked it.
Either way, he wasn’t leaving it behind and before noon, it would be burned or handed off to one of the many homeless in the city to use as needed. Whatever made it disappear. And with his walking papers from the hospital at the top of his chart, Luca was free to leave.
He didn’t even make it out of the room, though. Nazio Donati strolled in seconds before he had gathered what remained of his personal items sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. His friend shut the door behind him and then closed the blinds to shut out any view from the outside through the windows.
“What the fuck happened?” Naz demanded.
“Nice to see you, too, man,” Luca muttered.
“Sorry—you’re okay, yeah?”
Luca lifted one shoulder. “Better than I was a few hours ago. Nearly got a tube shoved up my cock when they thought the drug would last longer. That shit was the only motivation I needed to stop pretending like I couldn’t understand what was happening. That was also around the time the cops started coming into my room. What are you doing in here? They think my name is James Kutner ... you won’t help that.”
“Right, right ... the only good thing about not being a made man and working for the mafia is that your pretty black and white picture isn’t on every official’s corkboard in the city, I suppose. How long do you think you can get away with being someone else before they figure it out?”
“Not much longer. Which is why we need to get the hell out—”
“Fuck the cops. I got in here clean. And I left Roz in the car,” Naz said, shifting from foot to foot and observing the room like something was going to jump out of the walls at him. His best friend had always hated hospitals ever since he flew across the world thinking the love of his life—Luca’s sister—was sick. “Not like we needed two Donatis in this place milling around. Drawing attention, and all. Not sure she would have been able to control herself either considering she thinks you’re in here dying.”
“She does not.”
“I told her you were fine. Telling Roz one thing and her knowing it is entirely different. Now we are wasting time with bullshit. What happened?”
Luca headed for the door, moving to pass Naz as he said, “You should have sent someone else to pick me up.”
“Stop.”
Naz’s hand stopped Luca from grabbing the doorknob when it latched tightly to his wrist. His best friend met his gaze, the question burning there but not being spoken out loud. It didn’t matter if he said it; Luca could see it and that was enough.
“I was working. Shit went bad.”
“Was it her?” Naz asked.
Luca swallowed hard. “Naz—”
“I know, you don’t like to get my hopes up. You don’t want Roz to know unless you’ve got something firm. I also know you’ve had a lot of last-minute shit come up lately, your father is calling mine to bitch every other hour about it, and you didn’t tell me what you were up to last night. Was it Penny?”
“I didn’t know for sure until—”
Naz let out a hard breath. “That’s the first time you’ve actually seen her, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but that makes sense considering everything I’ve found on her says they’ve been keeping her overseas for ... whatever she does. Work, I assume. Killing people. It’s only been the last year or so that she’s been back in this part of the world, and it’s a lot harder to keep every trace of her scrubbed from existence when people here see her and can pass on the word, likely.”
His friend’s brow dipped. “They?”
“That’s what you took from all I said?”
“Who are they?”
Luca chewed over his next words but only because he didn’t want to step in shit somehow. Not with Naz, or elsewhere. Like the people who had Penny on their payroll. “An organization called The League.”