Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Harrison
We lie together naked under the covers, and I feel so relaxed for a change that I could easily fall asleep with Natalia in my arms.
But I can tell by the way she’s playing with the hair on my chest that she’s wide awake and wants to talk.
“How was your day?” I ask, tilting her chin up so I can look in her eyes. “Was it good, medium or bad?”
She sighs. “Good in some ways, bad in others, so if you add it all up, I’d say medium overall.”
“What happened that was bad?”
She hesitates, and I know she can’t talk about work in any detail, so I wonder if something bad didn’t happen with a patient, and that’s what’s weighing on her mind.
“Actually, there’s something I want to talk about.”
“I’m all ears. You know you can talk to me about anything you want. Good, bad or medium.”
She rests her arms on my chest and nods. “I did some sleuthing into Giordano.”
I frown. That’s not something a new medical doctor hoping to be a forensic psychiatrist should be doing.
“What?”
“I was given the name of the mechanic who worked on my stepfather’s vehicle. I did some research, found out where he is, and went to speak with him.”
“Natalia,” I say, a sense of alarm filling me. “You are not an FBI Special Agent. This is not something you should be doing on your own.”
She shrugs and glances away guiltily. “Whatever the case, I was given his name and went to speak to him. He was told that they wanted new vehicles and wanted management to think that the brake lines were faulty, so they would buy a newer model for the fleet. He says that my stepfather took the vehicle by accident, and he never meant for anyone to get hurt. The vehicle was supposed to stay in the garage. At least, that’s what he was told. ”
“That’s probably true,” I say and take in a deep breath. “He was just a pawn in the bigger game of taking out your stepfather by people above him.”
“Yes, it’s so sad. He’s in a nursing home and is on a psychiatric hold because he’s supposedly suffering from premature dementia.
In reality, it’s just to keep him quiet until the case is closed.
He tried to take his own life when he realized that two people died because of what he did, and he wanted to go to the police about it, but management told him to stay quiet or he’d go to jail. ”
“Jesus,” I say and shake my head. I stroke her cheek, wishing I could wipe away her sadness. It’s the last thing she should feel for the man, but it shows her humanity. She can feel the man’s suffering even though he’s in part to blame for her parents’ deaths.
I want her to keep that humanity.
“What should I do? Should I take that to Fogerty? Or do you suppose he already knows and they’re not saying anything because they’re after the really big fish? Giordano and this mechanic, Deluca, are not big enough to warrant arrests. Especially not if it gives the game away to their higher-ups.”
I shake my head. “Say nothing. Keep this between you, this person you spoke with, and me. Let’s hope he doesn’t spill the beans on your meeting, or you’ll be even more of a liability than you already are.”
She cracks a smile. “I thought I was an asset…”
“You are, but I have the sense that assets can become liabilities very easily, so we have to watch our every move. I just want to get out of this alive and with most of our lives intact. That means you’re still a medical doctor and I’m still the head of the family business, such as it is.”
She nods and then rolls off me and onto her back, staring at the ceiling.
“Thing is, I want to work for the FBI.” She hesitates for a moment.
“I wanted to work for the FBI, but now?” She turns her head and looks into my eyes.
“I don’t know, Harrison. Maybe I’m being naive, but I never realized how many small crimes they let go or sweep under the rug because they want to get the really big fish. That’s really messed up.”
“It’s reality, my love,” I say and lean over and kiss her. I stroke her cheek. “Reality is ugly sometimes. We have to accept that and try to find the beautiful parts as much as we can. Like spending a weekend on Fire Island. When this is all over, I want to spend the summer there.”
She lets out a long sigh. “When this is over… When will that be? By summer?”
I rub my eyes. “One can hope. And now, I have to sleep so I can be ready for another day of trying to figure out how to extricate O’Connor Industries from the underworld. How about you?”
“Same.”
She smiles, and I lean back down and kiss her again, so damn glad that she’s mine.
She’s actually truly mine…
The next morning, I have a shower and dress, and when I’m done, Natalia is standing in the kitchen in her nightgown, drinking her cup of coffee.
She hands me my own cup, and I take it and kiss her cheek. “You’re not going in today?”
“Later,” she says and takes another sip. “I’m working the evening shift. Do you want me to make you some food?”
“No thanks,” I say and take an apple out of the refrigerator. “I’m going to grab something on the way to the warehouse, so I won’t bother with breakfast. What are you going to do with yourself this morning? You should lay low and not do any more amateur sleuthing, okay?”
“Okay,” she says with a slow grin, which suggests she doesn’t really mean it. “I’ll be a good girl, I promise. No amateur sleuthing.”
I text my driver to let him know I’m on my way out of the apartment and then lean down and kiss her warmly. I grab my jacket out of the closet and slip on my shoes. “I’ll call you later, and we can talk about plans for the weekend. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good,” she says and smiles as I open the door. I glance back and wish I had more time. She looks so delicious in that tiny silk nightgown that I’d love to pick her up and carry her back to the bedroom, but instead, I smile and leave the apartment.
I take the elevator to the main floor and see that my driver is already waiting, standing beside the vehicle parked beside the curb.
I hop inside and wait while he closes the door and gets into the driver’s seat.
“Where to, Mr. O’Connor?”
“Go to Mom’s Kitchen,” I say and fasten my seatbelt. “I need breakfast. Then, the warehouse.”
“Will do,” he says and we drive off.
Once I’m at the warehouse, hot breakfast from Mom’s in hand, I sit behind my desk and eat while I scan the newspaper headlines online.
I have to contact Ryan and bring him in for a confrontation.
It’s not something I’m looking forward to, but it has to be done.
I had a nice night and morning with Natalia, but now, I have to take care of business.
I need to hear from his own lips the truth about what happened to my father.
I send him a message to meet me in an hour, and then I spend the time re-reading my notes from my meetings with Fillmore. I read the intercepts once more and sigh, rubbing my eyes as I try to prepare myself for the confrontation.
What can he possibly say to justify what happened?
I need to see his responses to what I have to show him before I can decide how to handle this. What I’d like to do is wring his neck, but I don’t want to jeopardize my future by becoming exactly what I despise in this world.
But I need to know, one way or the other, how my uncle is going to try to justify what happened.
At the allotted time, there’s a knock at my door and Ryan opens it enough to show his face.
“Come in,” I say and point to the chair in front of my desk.
He comes in like the chastised boy that he is inside. He knows something’s up.
He takes a seat in the chair I positioned in front of me, and I lean back, trying to gather enough courage and strength to do this. I’d much rather be joking with him about old times and how we all miss my father, but instead, I have to confront him about his role in my father’s murder.
What a mess…
“Harrison, you look troubled. What’s the matter, son?”
I shake my head. “Don’t you ever call me son.”
Ryan adjusts himself in his chair, like he’s getting ready to bolt.
“What did you want to speak to me about?” Ryan asks, his arms on the chair’s armrests, his fists clenching the ends.
I get the sense he’d like to jump over the desk and strangle me. I can sense that he knows why I brought him here.
I take Fillmore’s intercepts and place them on the desk in front of him, facing him so he can read them.
I watch his face as he picks up the sheets and reads over the content.
Yep. Instant recognition in Ryan’s face, which blanches.
“Where did you get these?” he asks, his voice low, choked.
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is what they say about my father’s death. About his murder.”
Ryan shakes his head. “It does matter where you got them,” he insists. “They could be from someone trying to set me up, to take the fall for something I did not do.”
“They’re legit.”
Ryan shakes his head. “Where did you get these?” he insists. “I’m not going to agree to anything or say anything more until you tell me. How do you know these aren’t fabricated to make me or Tommy look guilty?”
He throws the sheet of intercepts down on my desk and looks away, his jaw clenched. He’s really angry.
“Ryan, I know this is real. I have to decide what to do about it. Explain to me why you went along with this. Tell me why, so I can at least understand.”
He takes in a deep breath, and I can practically hear him tremble as he exhales.
“I made a deal with Andropov to keep the business alive. Neither Tommy nor I wanted to see O’Connor Industries end, and that’s what your father was going to do.
He was going to throw away five generations of work and success, and neither of us wanted that. ”
I’m barely holding it in. “So, you arranged my father’s death?” What my hands ache to do is go to him, circle his neck with my fingers, and choke the life out of him, but I don’t.
I wait for his explanation.
“I didn’t arrange it; no. I had nothing to do with that.
It wasn’t my decision. It wasn’t my choice.
I thought we could delay your father. Find a way to allow part of O’Connor Enterprises to break off, become legitimate, and leave the other part to Tommy and me.
That’s the truth, Harrison. I had no idea, nor did I want your father dead.
That was Tommy, and it was only a last resort.
He couldn’t see reason. He was just unwilling to compromise… ”
I sit with my fists clenched, but then I think of Natalia, and I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, so that my heart rate decreases just a bit.
I nod. “Get out of my office. From this day forward, you and Tommy aren’t welcome at the warehouse. You can work out of the Brooklyn dock offices. I’m going to do what you wanted and split the business up. Now, go. As far as I’m concerned, we’re no longer family.”
Ryan remains seated for a moment as if he can’t believe what he’s just heard, but then he does get up and goes to the door. He pauses for a moment and looks back at me, but I refuse to meet his eyes.
“Harrison, I’m truly sorry. I wish I had intervened to stop Tommy, but I didn’t. That’s on me. If I could take it back, I would.”
Then he leaves.
I sit in silence for a few moments, trying to calm myself down. I’ve got a lot of work in front of me to accomplish if I hope to follow through on my plan to divide the business and take part of it legitimate.