Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
B ex didn’t knock on her parents’ Bensonhurst neighborhood front door when she arrived for dinner that night. The home in the predominately Italian neighborhood was where she grew up, where her father grew up, and where his father had grown up all the way back to when Great-great-grandpa Moretti came over from Italy in the late 1800s. The house next door was Great-great-grandpa’s brother’s house and now owned by her Uncle Paulie and Aunt Julia, who were really very distant cousins, but since they’d all grown up together, they really were more like siblings to her parents. Their three sons were practically brothers to Bex and her brothers. Back when her relatives immigrated, this part of Brooklyn was more rural and a huge influx of Italians settled together here, and where many of them still lived. Her father’s actual brother, Frank, and his wife, Gianna, lived four houses down. They’d inherited that house from another great-uncle shortly after they got married some thirty years ago.
Bex, along with one of her brothers and a handful of cousins, had ventured as far as Carroll Gardens. She rented the apartment over the detached garage behind her older brother’s rowhouse there. Anthony, her oldest brother who was also a Junior and went by TJ for Tony Junior, lived on the first floor. Their cousin, Paulie Junior, or PJ as everyone called him, lived on the second floor. All three of them worked for the NYPD. It was four miles to work for her and a little over five miles to her parents’ house. If traffic got bad, she could easily bike it to either location.
“Ma!” Bex called out over the masculine shouts coming from the living room as she kicked off her salt covered boots from the dirty snow partially melted on the sidewalk. “I’m home.”
“Yo! What the hell kind of shot was that?” Ray, her second oldest brother shouted from the living room. The New York Empire hockey team was playing and apparently, it wasn’t going well.
“In the kitchen!” Her mother called out as the aroma of fresh tomato sauce wafting through the house.
Bex walked by the living room to find it full of the Moretti men. Her father, Tony, sat in his favorite recliner. Next to him was his brother Frank on the loveseat with “Uncle” Paulie. Stuffed onto the couch and sitting on dining room chairs pulled around the television were the rest of the family. Her brothers, TJ, Ray, and Jimmy, sat on the couch. Frank and Gianna’s kids, Frankie, Bobby, Richie, and Mikey sat on the dining room chairs that had been brought in. Paulie and Julia’s kids, PJ, Johnny, and Phil, sat on the chairs too, but currently PJ was standing and yelling at the hockey players.
“Whoa! Look who it is,” said her brother Jimmy. If her mother actually called for Anthony, Raymond, James or Bexley, they knew they were in deep trouble.
Every male Moretti jumped to their feet and saluted her. “Detective Moretti!” they called out as they saluted.
Bex blushed but smiled as her father, a recently retired police officer, came and kissed her cheek. All her brothers, all her uncles, and all her cousins were some sort of public safety officer—either NYPD or the Port Authority Police.
“Knock it off, you guys,” Bex said, rolling her eyes. “I’m getting a beer. Who wants one?” Thirteen hands went up.
“I’ll help you, Bex,” her brother Ray said, stepping forward to walk with her to the kitchen.
The kitchen was the clear territory for the women in the family. Her mother, Marissa, ran it with an iron fist, or a wooden spoon, to be technical about it. Her mother’s dark hair had never seen a gray strand because her hairdresser, who happened to be her sister-in-law, Gianna, didn’t give those gray hairs a chance to appear. Her mother’s hair had been the same color and nearly the same style for all of Bex’s twenty-seven years.
Meanwhile, Aunt Julia, had embraced the gray, but there were only a few highlights of it in her thick chestnut brown hair that was always in a thick braid. Aunt Julia and her mother both dressed in standard slacks, either in gray, black, navy, or tan, with a turtleneck and a sweater. Their station was the sauce and making homemade noodles. Gianna thought she was still twenty and not nearing sixty. Her dark brown hair had purple highlights and she wore tight black leather pants and a hot pink cheetah print blouse as she sat at the table chopping up veggies for a salad.
Bex had never not known this sight. Every week, heck, many times a week, this is what they all did. The Moretti family was close—sometimes too close. Being the only girl had been both a blessing and a curse. She was spoiled horribly by her parents, aunts, and uncles. However, she was also picked on horribly by her brothers and cousins. Much to her mother’s horror, by the time Bex was eight she could hold her own in a fight with her brothers and cousins. She could throw and catch a football better than most boys and she could make one hell of a tiramisu.
“Smells good, Ma,” Ray said, giving their mother a kiss on the cheek before opening the deck door to get to the fridge on their enclosed deck. Every winter the guys put up plexiglass and turned the space into a usable hangout for when their mother got tired of them messing up the living room.
“Thank you, sweetie. Did you congratulate your sister?”
“Yes, Ma,” Ray said as he came back in holding a large bucket filled with beer. “We’re all real proud of our baby sister, but that doesn’t mean she gets to pick which game we watch.”
“Hey, I outrank you. You have to do what I say,” Bex said, snatching a beer and twisting off the cap. “I think I’ll ask for you, TJ, and Jimmy to be transferred to my unit so I can order you around every day.”
Ray gave her the finger but winked so she knew he was teasing.
“Don’t give the bird to your sister,” their mother chastised even though her back was to them as she stirred the sauce. “Bex, are there any handsome men in your new department?”
“Ma,” Bex groaned.
“You should let me give you a makeover,” Aunt Gia said as she chopped a carrot.
Julie shook her head. “No, what she needs to do to get a guy is to cook the squad a meal. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
The women all agreed as Bex rolled her eyes and slipped from the room with Ray. They handed out the beers and Bex took her spot, perched on the arm of the couch by Jimmy.
“How are they looking?” Bex asked and then realized she shouldn’t have when the other team scored.
“Like crap,” Cousin Richie answered as the rest of the guys grumbled.
“How was your first day, Bex?” PJ asked her.
“Good. I have to leave early tonight though. I have an assignment already.” Bex told them about the start of the day, leaving out what her assignment was, and how it was working with Ana again.
“Tell her hello for me. I miss working with her. Perez knows her stuff,” PJ told the group about his former partner. Ana had a college degree and was able to advance from patrol.
Her father and Uncle Frank had both made it to sergeant, but that was as high as anyone had gotten. She wouldn’t be surprised if several more of her brothers and cousins wouldn’t make it too, but it took longer without that degree. TJ and PJ had joined SWAT and Ray, Johnny, and Bobby were all currently studying for the sergeant’s exam. As for her, she’d put in her time as a detective and then try for lieutenant with the goal of making deputy chief.
“Dinner is ready!” her mother called out and everyone in the living room jumped into action.
Chairs were cleared and put back in their places around the dining room table while others grabbed the kitchen table and pulled it up to the open door from the kitchen leading into the dining room. That was the overflow table. If you didn’t nab a stop at the main table, you got stuck there. However, Bex’s mom always made sure that table got dessert first.
“Anthony,” her mother snapped and TJ froze halfway to sitting down. “It’s your sister’s big day. Give her a seat.” Bex tried not to laugh as TJ looked at the overflow table with a groan. He’d been able to get a seat at the main table since he’d been sixteen. He deemed that he was entitled to it since he was the oldest.
“Yes, Ma,” he grumbled as he stuck his tongue out at Bex, which only made her bat her eyelashes at him in faux innocence.
Bex took her seat as the food was devoured and conversations were layered upon conversations up and down the table. She was sure others found it overwhelming, but it was comforting to her. She could follow the conversation she was having with her mom while she listened to Aunt Julia telling Johnny he needed to ask out a woman she’d met at the local deli the other day, to her father and the uncles arguing over sports.
Her smart watch vibrated during dessert and she stood to put her plate away. She had to get slutted up for the club. She could hold her own drinking, but she’d grown up in police bars drinking beer, not at dance clubs drinking martinis. She was more of a pants and sneakers kind of gal than miniskirts and heels. That didn’t mean she couldn’t be that woman. It just meant it took a little extra time and the occasional internet tutorial.
“Ma, Aunt Gia, Aunt Julia, dinner was excellent as usual, but I actually have to work tonight.” Bex walked around the table and kissed each woman’s cheek in turn. Her mother began to fuss, but she was used to the life of a cop.
“Are you headed home first?” TJ asked her as he helped clear the overflow table and get it set back in the kitchen.
“Yeah. I need to change.”
“Can I bum a ride? PJ brought me, but he’s going to help his dad and brothers with something at their house.”
“Sure, grab your stuff.”
Bex hugged her brothers and cousins, but it was her dad who walked her to the door. She’d always been in awe of her father. He never lost his cool, always worked hard, always fought for those who didn’t have a voice, and always made sure to show up for his family. He was a superhero to her. He fought crime and then cheered the loudest at her piano recital. He taught her self-defense, how to change a tire, and how to pick a lock all while never making her feel less important to him than her brothers. Instead, he always made her feel pretty, loved, valued, and safe. She could bring any problem to him and he'd help her fix it—from a chipped nail to passing her detective’s exam.
“I’m proud of you, Bex.” Her father kissed her temple before opening the front door for her. “Be safe and call us if you get into a pickle. You know we have your back, retired or not.”
“Thanks, Pa.” Bex rose up and kissed his cheek. The edge of his mustache tickled her cheek as he patted her back.
“You’re going to be one hell of a detective. No one can see the truth better than you. Can’t wait to hear about it.”
“Bex! Move your ass.” Bex rolled her eyes at her brother who was leaning against her car. “I’m freezing my nuts off out here.” Her father shook his head, completely used to their sibling squabbles as Bex taunted him for being weak.
Bex smiled at her father, waved to her mother who had poked her head into the hallway, and then unlocked her car so TJ would stop complaining. “Could you move any slower?” TJ whined as she started the car.
“Mr. Big Badass Swat Man can’t handle the cold.” Bex turned off the heat just to torment him, but TJ finally swatted her hand away and turned the heat to max.
“I’m not weak. I have a cold sensitivity.” TJ was quiet for a moment as the heated seats warmed his tushy. “How dangerous is tonight?”
“Not dangerous. I can’t tell you much. I’m undercover, but I’m gathering information.”
“Please tell me you’re not a hooker again,” TJ groaned. “Do you know how much shit we had to put up with for that?”
“You?” Bex said incredulously. “I’m the one on the street with my tits freezing off as men groped me and said some very lovely things to me about what they were going to do to me.”
“Yeah, but we were the ones getting pictures of our little sister dressed up like a hooker from the guys on the force. I almost punched out two other officers over those stings.”
“Men are pigs.”
“Don’t lump me in that. I’m a good guy. I haven’t had a single complaint so far.” TJ winked and Bex groaned.
“Ew, I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“Payback for having to see your bra and thong while you were on duty.”
Here’s the thing about her family—they teased but they were always there for each other. There was no one she’d trust more than her family. Which made this gag order on the undercover work hard. Bex was nibbling on her lip when her brother got tired of waiting for her to say whatever it was she was thinking.
“Spit it out, Bex.”
“I can’t say too much. I don’t understand why this is so hush-hush, but I did some research and I’m not finding what I was expecting to find. I’m having trouble, already, based on what I read versus what I was told. I don’t know how to handle it.”
TJ stopped any teasing. “Yeah, I get that that’s hard to reconcile, but I’d go in open-minded. You always have to follow the evidence and find the truth.”
“You did a lot of work with nightclubs when you were a rookie, right?”
“Yeah,” TJ said, his brow creasing. “Is that what you’re working on? I promise I won’t say a word.”
“I’m not going to say too much, but I want to ask your opinion. Of all the clubs, which are the safest for women and which are the most dangerous?”
“Easy,” TJ said with a shrug. He listed the worst and then moved on to the best. “The safest is WET.”
That’s what Bex had found too. She’d gone on message boards where the women of the city talked freely about safety and they all said WET was the safest, but in the past couple of months, things were changing. The question was, why were they changing and was Wilder Townsend responsible for those changes like DA Seabrook and Commissioner Murphy said he was?