TWENTY-ONE
“COME ON, we’ve got work.”
The new day started with a determination she hoped would remain until sunset. This was what she needed, energy, optimism, and a great big dose of fuck-the-bastards, which was anyone not on her nice list. Her guy was nowhere around. Typical. Even a guy who didn’t leave the building could still duck out on her, that was a special skill.
Strat was dead to the world. No omen intended. And he needed the rest, so she didn’t wake him. Keeping him there to heal was easier while he slumbered. Tiny win, but she’d take it.
She’d hurried downstairs and stuck her head into the dining room to call on her guys. Playing nice, following the rules, her wellbeing was one thing, knowing what it meant to Conn enhanced her need to safeguard it. And it might help Conn’s decision making when it came to her autonomy. Going behind his back, sneaking around, wouldn’t win her any points, or any freedom.
“Get moving,” she followed up. “Chop, chop, fellas.”
Her compliance did have its limits. She didn’t wait. The fire in her belly begged to be stoked. No more lying around feeling sorry for herself or wallowing in guilt. The only way to get over that, and recent traumas, was to take action, follow through.
By the time Daly emerged from their pseudo rec room, she was halfway to the front door.
“Are you allowed to go out?”
“You think Conn’s keeping me prisoner?” she called back over her shoulder. “If he was, my day would’ve started way differently.”
There would be worse ways to wake up than with your smoking hot boyfriend chaining you to a bedpost. Mm, something they should try. It had been a while since they’d got any kind of freaky freak on.
“Niall didn’t say anything about going out.”
“Do we need him to micromanage?” she asked, tossing open the front door. “Do we have a car or will I call a cab?”
Her phone was back in her purse. The new clutch she’d selected from a range in the closet. She’d ignored the one abandoned in Conn’s car before the drama. Every McDade location she visited had a brand-new wardrobe for her, accessories and all. Who did that? Knowing it came from Conn’s order was hot. He wouldn’t care about things, he cared about her comfort, her belonging.
When her head turned and her eyes reacted to the daylight, she blinked, and there it was, the Bentley. Her Bentley, parked with a couple of other cars at one side of the driveway.
“Bluebell, can we—”
“What more permission do you need?” she asked, gesturing at the car, hurrying down the stairs. “My car is right there. Why would it be there if not for my use?”
“It’s a family car.”
“You think it’s parked out here waiting for someone else?” She opened the back door. “Do others use it?”
On the other side of the door, Daly’s mouth opened, but a few seconds went by before he answered. “Not as long as you’re here.”
Not as long as ever, she’d talk to Conn about that. Though, huh, was that kinda divaish? That she expected no one else to travel in her car without her? Where was Whisper when she needed a dose of you-know-what?
“I’m safe in the car and I have my guys.” Hock and Snuff lumbered over, not far behind Daly. “No shootouts or bank heists, I swear.”
Her bodyguard didn’t laugh. “So no fun for the rest of us is what you’re saying,” he said. Man had a sense of humor, that was the spirit. “Where are we going?”
“Chronicler first, Stag after, maybe my brother’s,” because she had to tie him down for answers. They’d be easier to extract from Lachlan than Conn. Unless her guy specifically told her brother not to share… Would that stop him? “Sound safe? If you’re worried about protecting me without Strat looking over your shoulder, I can ask Conn to—”
“No one’s worried, Bluebell.” With a tug on the top of the door, he took it from her. “Get in and sit nice. The door shit is my duty.”
Life wasn’t so bad. On the way to work, she did a quick search for recent news she might’ve missed. And for clues on what happened at Hustle. Gunshots, fire, injuries, two bodies, no IDs yet. Hmm.
Her obit ran, no surprise, so most of the world probably assumed one of those bodies was Evander Manzani. Except nothing in the paper, or anywhere online, stated that categorically.
Maybe her boss knew the obit was more about the message than the content. She’d ask but may not get a straight answer. From her side of the fence, the threat of her boyfriend was a useful tool. However, if said boyfriend was colluding with her boss, Steeple may be under orders to keep quiet.
Hadn’t Conn been convalescing? Where had he found the time to threaten all these people into silence? Didn’t have to do it himself. Her man knew how to delegate, or Niall did, the latter was usually the one dishing out orders.
Daly stuck with her in the elevator ascent. At the top, Paolo was in his booth, Lucy perched at the desk.
“Sersha!” Lucy called and leaped up. “Oh, hi! Gosh, we haven’t seen you forever! How are you?”
“Good. Isn’t it the weekend?”
“I love my job.”
Was that an answer? The young woman didn’t seem that sure, and she kept glancing at Daly. Hmm, she didn’t know much about Lucy’s life, anything about it, actually.
“It’s busy.” Lucy wasn’t the only unexpected person at their desk. “A lot of people in.”
“There was a big thing, I don’t know, an incident at Manzani—but…” Lucy’s laugh wasn’t genuine, though the trepidation she pinned on Daly definitely was. “I don’t have to tell you—you know the, about all the…”
“All the what?” Daly asked, provoking clear terror. “Who told you we know something?”
“Stop it,” she said, using her whole body to push him. “He’s kidding, he’s being an idiot, just screwing around.”
“I, uh,” an exhale of a laugh, “didn’t know they did that.”
Like every thug attended the same training seminars on good goon etiquette. Better to give the woman a break than delve deeper into that stereotype.
“Any messages?”
The receptionist handed over a stack of notes and a small box. “That came today.”
And she was almost afraid to open it. No return address, nothing identifying, just her name and work’s address.
Evander? Maybe.
“Thanks.”
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Lucy asked, bouncing closer. “Is it a gift? Is it diamonds?”
“With the time I’m having recently, it could just as easily be a grenade,” she said, broadening her smile while the bubbly woman shrank. “I don’t know if you want to be around when I open it.” In the corner of her eye, Tulip walked by Steeple’s office. “Ah, excuse me.”
Dashing across the bullpen, ignoring the whispers and stares, she put herself in Tulip’s path.
“Sersha,” Tulip said, wary or surprised, maybe both. “You bailed on me.”
“I bailed on a lot of people, tough times.”
“Steeple said you were on leave, grief, right?”
Somehow that came across as genuine, despite the cynicism staring at her.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disappear.” Really honestly hadn’t meant to. “Do you want to talk?”
“Now?” Tulip looked left to right. “You want to talk now?”
Loyalty was crucial. If someone had it out for them, for Conn, she wanted to know.
“I want the CI’s name,” she said. “What do you want in return?”
“The price for—”
“I’ll pay it. Today. Right now.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Are you fucking with me?”
“No, I only do that with my boyfriend, he gets jealous otherwise. You want answers or not?”
This was one loose end she wanted tied up pronto. Adapt quickly, that’s what Conn said. Anyone out there working against them needed to be taken down quick and easy. The witness who’d fingered Conn for her grandpapa’s murder could have an agenda. Despite his new affiliation with her guy, Lachlan might still be reluctant to share the name. Her father would be more inclined to, if he thought it would save his skin, though, with him, it couldn’t be her doing the asking.
The best part about it? While shuffling into the interview room by Steeple’s office, with its half-glazed wall, the gawping and gossiping rose to a whispering fever pitch. Nowhere saw more intrigue and speculation than the Chronicler’s investigative floor.
“Is he pissed?”
Tearing her attention from out there, she sat down with Tulip. “Hmm?”
“Ire, is he pissed?”
“Most of the time,” she said. “You referencing something specific?”
“I don’t get it. How can you be with a guy like him?”
“Excuse me?”
“He’s hot, goddamn, he’s hot. And I don’t expect everyone’s moral compass to be pointing north all the time, but he’s… consumed by it.”
“By his moral compass?”
“By his family, the business, the violence.”
“Who said anything about violence?”
Tulip’s head angled to the side. “Off the record, not for the story, I’m just saying, woman to woman, how do you know he’ll come home to you every night? Aren’t you scared witless every second?”
“That something might happen to him?”
“Yeah, or to you, Ire McDade has enemies.”
“Ire McDade is a giant among dwarves. Am I scared? Only until I remember the man at my back would do anything to protect me. He’s always there, always supporting me. When it comes to my safety, he’s beyond passionate.”
“Do you argue?” With each other? Like a couple does? Do you dare raise your voice to him?”
Yes, but for him was a way more regular occurrence. “Okay,” she said, exhaling on a smile. “Is this an interview about my love life or did you want to talk about something else?”
“Just getting some background. How did you meet?”
“No comment.”
Tulip actually smiled. “How long did you know him before you got intimate?”
“No comment.”
This was good practice for any more formal situations she may find herself in. You know, like interview rooms with federal agents.
“Are you exclusive?”
“No comment.”
“He ever hit you?”
“No,” she said and leaned a little closer. “And, quick tip, never ask me that question in earshot of anyone else. For your own protection.”
“No one’s ever asked about violence in your relationship?”
“Who would ask about that?”
“Your brother,” Tulip said. “Your father. Since the alderman died, your family have been AWOL in all kinds of ways.”
“Grief impacts people differently.”
“How does your brother feel about your relationship?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
With a slight brow raise, Tulip moistened her lips. “Your brother isn’t known for playing nice with the press.”
“It’s in his nature to be protective. With what he does, the work he does, sharing information doesn’t come naturally.”
“And in Ire’s work, I’d guess he’s the same.”
Their chairs were perpendicular, so it wasn’t like the Inquisition. This woman was doing her job, one Sersha could identify with.
“He’s not interested in grandstanding. Nothing in his life would be of interest to reporters.”
Tulip scoffed. “I know you don’t believe that. Does he give you a line to toe? How do you know what is allowed and what isn’t? Don’t you ever want to…?”
“Want to what?”
“The things you must know,” Tulip whispered with intrigue and slid forward in her seat. “You could blow the lid off the whole damn crime network, expose them all in a day, in a single article. What would he do?”
“Who?”
“Ire,” Tulip said, sort of groaning the obvious name.
“Conn’s a businessman. Yes, there are things about his work that are not advertised, that doesn’t mean they’re interesting enough to print. And you know the rules, we don’t go after our own, we just don’t.”
Though she would happily if Conn asked her to expose her father’s misdeeds.
“We would if there was a story, if getting the truth out there was necessary.”
Maybe they were made differently. Or maybe young Tulip had never been in a situation where sharing and not was the difference between life and death. Not hers, no. Even if she printed full transcripts of her interactions with the McDades, Conn wouldn’t hurt her. It wasn’t in him. How did she know? Because it wasn’t in her to hurt him either. Physically or with words. Those conversations, the ones she had with him, and whatever she heard in the McDade sphere, were words she’d take to the grave.
“Do you have family?” More than just turning the tables, she genuinely wanted to know more about this woman. “Nearby?”
“Are you threatening me?”
The question wasn’t asked in fear, Tulip seemed affronted, yes, but there was fascination too.
“I don’t threaten people.”
“Hmm.” Tulip’s disbelief came with contempt. “Because your fella does that for you?”
“Conn knows your name because I mentioned it. He has no reason to approach you or anyone connected to you. I’m curious about where you’re from, the source of your interest.”
“I’d never give up a source. The CI wasn’t my source.”
“I know that. Are you going to give me his name?”
“Are you going to tell me why Nicole McDade has a price on her head?”
Playing coy wouldn’t get them anywhere. Tulip discovered that the contract existed on her own.
“Because someone wants her dead.”
“Someone who?” Tulip asked. “I heard it was connected to Whisper Doherty-McDade, and she left the city in a hurry.”
“What does that tell you?”
“A lot when the woman met with Biz McDade, Nicole’s husband, alone. Were they having an affair? Is this jealousy?”
She frowned. “Was who having an affair?”
“Whisper and Biz.”
Instant humor blasted out of her without finesse. It startled Tulip so much that she reared back.
“Want to talk about taking your life in your hands? Never let Whisper know you said that.”
“She has a reputation too.”
“And you never thought what that’s like?” Her eyes widened in question; Tulip responded with a clueless head shake. “Everywhere you go, people think they know you. They watch. Stare. Gawp. Openly pass judgment, assume they know everything there is to know about you.” From their current vantage point, it only took a slight gesture to turn Tulip’s attention to the onlookers in the bullpen. “I’ve worked in this building for years, with a lot of those people for years.”
“Now they’re passing judgment?”
“With my heritage, people have always jumped to conclusions, built their own picture. Now I sleep next to a man with his own heritage, his own reputation. And it’s a major contrast to what they thought they knew of me.”
“Now they don’t know what to think.”
“They’re as fascinated as they are terrified. All the questions, the supposition, they’re desperate for info, but prefer to speculate in their circles than ask me anything direct.”
“In everyone’s defense, you don’t answer direct questions. Not honestly. What would they get for asking them?”
She had to give Tulip that. “People don’t understand. They put others in categories, label them good or evil, righteous or wicked.”
“Doesn’t everyone in your life fit into those categories?”
Oh, if only she could tell the full truth.
“No,” she said. “Conn is a better man than any other I’ve known. Lachlan aside.”
“Not your father or grandfather aside too?”
On a slow exhale, she held firm. “I didn’t misspeak. Don’t be fooled by appearances.”
“So Whisper going to Biz in prison had nothing to do with the contract on his wife’s head?”
“Whisper is a confident woman. She doesn’t answer to me or do what I say.”
“Which is what you said about Razer’s social calendar.” Tulip sat back. “You’re wasting my time.”
“Or you’re wasting mine. This is your job, but it’s my life, my guy’s life. Do you have any intention of telling me who falsely fingered Conn?”
“Do you have any intention of telling me who put the price on Nicole’s head?”
“It wasn’t anyone I know,” she said without blinking.
The moment that passed between them tugged at gravity, growing more somber. This was it, the faceoff had come.
“But it was someone, and you know who.” A statement. “The McDades?” She didn’t respond. “You have to give me something, Sersha. Was it one of the families?”
“Could be.”
“Do you know where she is? Is Nicole safe? Is she still alive?”
“Last I heard.” Though she hadn’t asked with everything else going on. “Alive and safe.”
“From everyone? You could only know that if she’s with the McDades. Is she under their protection? Just because Ire’s protecting her doesn’t mean it wasn’t a McDade that put out the hit. They aren’t known for yielding to each other.”
“Layers of intrigue,” Sersha said and smiled. “Welcome to my world.”
“Is she close by? Somewhere I can talk to her?”
“She’s not taking visitors.” No need for Conn’s nod to confirm that. “You want to be careful about snooping.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about you and Ire? We went out, to Stag, and you didn’t… say a word.”
“I don’t declare the details of my love life to everyone I meet.”
“Yeah, but you knew I was interested—were you protecting them?
“You say that like we’re your enemy.”
“Aren’t you?”
While it wasn’t like her to be defensive, she had that same thread of suspicion in her. The curiosity made them good at their jobs. Tulip could be their enemy, if she played it that way, or she could clean up the misconceptions.
She got to her feet. “Come with me.”
“Come with you where?”
“On an adventure.”
As she went out, Tulip hurried after. Her three guys were in the bullpen, watching.
“We’re going out,” she said to Daly.
“We just got here.”
Steeple leaped out of his office. “Sersha—”
“We’re going out for an hour,” she said. “I’ll check back in later.”
“Where are we going?” Daly asked, glancing behind her while keeping pace at her side. The not so happy expression on his face betrayed Tulip was in her wake. “Somewhere for lunch?”
“Actually, yeah,” she said. “Can someone grab lunch?”
“Wait, we’re your valet now?”
“You three are safe from menial duties,” she said, entering the elevator with her First Team. “I know your names, you’ve got to stick around. Make room.”
Wafting her arms in front of her, she forced her guys to the walls to give space for Tulip to join them.
“Not sure the boss’ll like this,” Hock muttered.
“Us this close to Bluebell?” Snuff asked to which Hock snickered.
“Very funny, guys,” she said, bowing to press the lobby button. “You don’t have to touch me to fear for your lives. Just pray I don’t tell him you touched me.” The guys stayed pretty flat, but she laughed and gestured at Tulip. “I’m kidding.”
“Yeah, she could do it with a look.”
She backhanded Daly’s belly, still smiling at their guest. “Do you want something to eat? We can have something brought to us.”
“So long as it’s not from the deli down the road,” Daly said as the doors opened.
She kept Tulip close as the trio surrounded them to cross the building lobby and go out to the street.
“Do these guys come with you everywhere?”
The answer to that question was complicated, if she overthought it.
“Aye,” she said, and nodded at the black van behind. “And those ones.” Daly opened the Bentley door. “Conn cares about my safety above everything else.” She slipped in the back with Tulip not far behind. “Let me break down some of the mystery for you.” Daly got in the front. “Take us to the club.”