Page 6 of His Savage Bride
Trenton appears in the doorway behind me and jerks a thumb back over his shoulder toward Melissa. “She’s out, Maximo. Lightweight,” he snorts again.
“It doesn’t matter.” I wave him off. “We’re leaving. A detective is on the way here to talk to Melissa, but she doesn’t know anything that could cause us any problems. Let’s go. Constance managed to escape the kidnappers and is waiting for us over at the police station.”
“How the hell did she manage that?” Trenton asks with a raised eyebrow as we walk out of the emergency department.
“According to the police, she killed the two men who grabbed her. I’ll bet you good money they underestimated her and thought they were nabbing some timid little girl.”
“Enzo told me she was fearsome. Said he saw her get right up in your face carrying on, and?—”
“Watch your mouth,” I warn him before he says something I’ll make him regret.
“Hey, no offense, boss. I like a woman with a temper, too.”
“Yeah, well, I love this one. Make sure you respect that when you speak about her,” I admonish him one more time. “Come on. Let’s go get her before the police have a chance to aggravate her any further.”
When we step outside the emergency room, we don’t have to look far to spot Tony. He’s so large that I can barely see an ambulance peeking out from behind him. Our driver, Joey, is standing by him in impassive silence as Tony regales him with a story.
“So, there I was.” Tony is waving his hands as we walk towards them. “I’ve got this one little bastard by the scruff of his neck, shaking him like a kitten, while the other—oh, hey boss. How did it go in there?” He turns to greet us as he notices our approach.
Joey blinks at us as though he’s waking up from a nap, then says, “I’ll go get the truck.” I nod to him, and he walks off without another word.
“Melissa was a bust,” Trenton says. “But we got some good news in there.”
“Constance is all right. The police rounded her up, and she’s over at the thirty-fourth precinct. Joey will drive Trenton and me over there to pick her up. Tony, go grab some gear and plan to stay at the estate for at least a few days. I’ll call Spicy and some other boys to join you over there. I’m going to need you close until we settle this business with Irina Volkov.”
“Yeah, of course, boss. I’ll head on over. If you don’t mind me asking, how did Constance end up out there? Isn’t that over around Washington Heights?”
“Yes, and from what the detective told me, the men who kidnapped her stopped at a gas station for some reason. I don’t know all the details yet, but Constance managed to kill both of them.”
“She did?” Tony gapes at me, then shakes his prodigious head. “I wouldn’t have thought she had it in her. What a woman!”
His words trail off when I stare at him. “Get going, Tony. I’ll need your help keeping an eye on her, and I expect you to do better than you have so far today. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah, of course, boss!” He ambles off as an embarrassed flush rises in his cheeks.
“Poor dumb bastard.” Trenton sighs. “He’ll never forgive himself for this, even if she’s all right.”
“He shouldn’t,” I fire back. “He had a simple job, and he fucked it up. No one should have gotten near Constance unless Tony was dead on the floor.”
“Hopefully he learned from his mistake, then, and will do better in the future. Here comes Joey now. You want shotgun?” Trenton asks as he walks over to the SUV that pulls up to the curb and opens the passenger door.
“No, I need to make a phone call. You can play navigator up front,” I reply as he opens the rear door for me and I climb into the backseat.
As soon as I’m settled, I text a few associates, including my old rival Bianchi and the former mayor, Arthur Darby.I need the personal cell number for the current mayor, Byron Mathews.
I get a reply within one minute from Darby, while Bianchi texts back only a question mark. I send a simplethank youin reply and then hit the hyperlinked number to initiate the call.
The line gets answered before it reaches the third ring. “This is Mayor Mathews.”
“Hello, Mayor, this is Maximo Luciani calling. I need a few moments of your time.”
“Mr. Luciani! What a pleasant surprise. I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you once I thought of a proper way to thank you for funding the overtime for your recent police surge. Between the donation, and the very specific tips you provided law enforcement about different criminal enterprises that were ongoing in our great city, a good number of arrests were made.”
I don’t miss the veiled threat in his outpouring of “gratitude.” I had no doubt that he had been giving a great deal of thought on how to “thank me” after I had helped the police dismantle the Volkovs’ businesses in the city. Those Russian gangsters had heavily funded his election campaign.
“It was my pleasure, Mayor. While I know that you had no dealing with any of those enterprises that were dismantled through my efforts, it occurred to me that, with your reelection campaign only two years away, you might be interested in securing new sources of funding. I’m reaching out to you today to offer my patronage with your future political aspirations.”
Mayor Mathews says nothing for several long seconds, and I pull the phone from my ear to make sure the call is still connected. While I’m staring at the screen that confirms the call is still active, he finally speaks after carefully considering his words. “While I appreciate your most gracious offer, Mr. Luciani, and I’m always willing to work with—ahem—local business leaders, your offer raises a question. Why, Mr. Luciani? Why are you reaching out and making me this offer now? Just to make amends?”
