129. Gabriel
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-NINE
Two hours later,Riley”s asleep. The pills, chocolate, and herbal tea worked their magic, and I pull the duvet over her body.
I pause to kiss her temple. Even in sleep, her face is pinched with worry. Not that I can blame her — Riley went through hell tonight.
What happened tonight was so fucking unnecessary. Even though it was her mother who pulled the trigger, it was her father who set this entire shitshow in motion. I was pretty certain that Mrs. Murphy decided to kill her husband for reasons that had nothing to do with this weekend.
From what Riley told me — and from what I saw in her mother”s expression — that shot was a long time coming. I knew she was an abused woman from the second I laid eyes on her. And if she killed Beckett, well, she probably did the world a favor.
I just wish she hadn”t turned the gun on herself. I know she did, because I had one of my guys call Stef, who contacted a source of his on the police force. Mrs. Murphy died from a single gunshot to the head.
A double murder and a suicide, according to the cops. It was like Riley and I were never there, as far as anyone was concerned. Luck is on our side.
I rub Riley”s back while she sleeps, until she lets out a soft snore. Now I know she”s good and out. While I should join her in bed, I still have a fuck ton to do.
Like figure out a way to get home. What”s happening with this storm, anyway?
I return to the living room of the suite and pour myself a Scotch. My phone”s on the sofa, buzzing. Muttering a string of curse words, I take my drink and check the phone.
Ten missed calls from Andre.
”What the fuck,” I grumble, and dial his number.
He answers on the first ring. ”Where are you?”
”I”m at a hotel in Boston. All flights are grounded because of a storm?—”
”I know,” he interrupts sharply. He never interrupts. ”I”ve been trying to call. Things have taken a turn, Gabriel.”
”What do you mean?” Christ, what now? ”And what”s that noise in the background? It sounds like you”re grinding meat or something.”
”It”s the shredder,” he snaps. ”The Martinez investigation is wider than anyone thought. Rumor has it the feds are getting a search warrant for the house.”
I pause, not sure if I heard correctly. Something isn”t right in Andre”s tone. Why is he in the office at the house shredding papers in the middle of the night? ”My house?”
”Yes. The lawyers are trying to reach you. They”re flying to New York and will drive to you in the storm, if needed. They should be there by dawn.”
”Andre, what the fuck are you trying to tell me?” I”m shouting now. Andre has never sounded so serious.
”Sir, the feds are investigating you and Martinez for cocaine trafficking.”
Maybe luck wasn”t on our side after all.
RILEY
I wake in an unfamiliar bedroom.It”s pitch black, and I sit up, rubbing my eyes.
I”m also wearing scratchy leggings and a... Red Sox T-shirt? What the hell?
Climbing out of the bed, I fumble in the dark. My hand touches what I think is a curtain and I pull it aside. A flood of light enters the room, practically blinding me. I blink several times, unsure if I”m dreaming or not.
”Boston Common?” I”m so confused. Why am I not in Florida?
That”s when everything comes rushing back. The entire scene in my parents” house. My mother”s crazed eyes. The gun.
The shots.
I have to sit on the edge of the bed to gather myself. Unfortunately, I now know exactly where I am.
But where”s Gabriel? And what time is it? We need to get home. We also need to find out about my mother.
I call Gabriel”s name and fling open the door. This suite is massive, bigger than most apartments in the city. There”s an actual hallway and I call his name again.
”In here, Riley.”
For some reason, his voice is sharp and clear, not kind and soft. I follow the sound and walk into the living area.
There”s Gabriel, surrounded by five men. One is his attorney from Florida, the others I”ve never seen in my life. They”re all sitting on the sofas, chairs and table. One young guy is on the floor, papers spread all around him.
”What”s... going on? Who are all these people?”
The men all look at me with a mixture of curiosity and pity.
”Gabriel? What? What”s all this?” There”s a weird tension in the air.
Gabriel stands up and holds his hand out. ”Babe, we need to talk. Guys, can you give us a few?”
The five men file out, saying they”ll go to the café downstairs. One asks me what I”d like, and I manage to get the word ”coffee” out.
Without another word, they exit and the door closes, leaving behind a weighty silence.
”What”s going on? Are they here because of last night? Are we in trouble?” I”m on the verge of tears.
”No, baby. No. Come here. Hug me.”
”Gabriel, you”re scaring me.” I melt into his arms. For some reason, he”s still wearing the same thing as yesterday — jeans and a button-down shirt. An outfit perfect for meeting parents, we”d joked. I figured he”d have sent his men out for an expensive outfit.
”I”m glad you were able to sleep,” he murmurs into my hair. ”You needed that.”
”What time is it?”
”Two.”
I slept that long? ”Why is your attorney here? Who are all those men?”
He releases me from his embrace and licks his lips, his eyes downcast. Then he blows out a breath. Whatever he has to say, it”s not easy for him.
He takes my hands and sighs again.
”What is it? Tell me.”
”Those men are all attorneys. They”re here because federal prosecutors are preparing an indictment for my arrest. Andre got word last night, tried to call, but it was in the middle of everything happening last night. After you fell asleep I found out, then the attorneys flew to New York and drove here in the middle of the night. We”re preparing a surrender strategy.”
Surrender? I rear back, my eyes and mouth open from shock. ”What... how...”
”It appears that my father ratted on Martinez and me. He set us up. My last meeting with Martinez was captured on a wiretap. The feds have everything.”
”What did you talk about with Martinez? I thought it was a business deal? Why did I think it was a real estate thing.”
”Riley, it was a cocaine deal. I agreed to move a lot of coke for Martinez throughout Florida. I even tested the coke he brought, settled on a price and a cut, the whole nine. I fucked up. I trusted my father. I trusted Martinez.”
Letting go of his hands, I sink back into the sofa, not believing any of this. ”Oh my God,” I repeat, over and over. I”m beginning to shake.
”They have everything on audio. I”ve managed to avoid an arrest so far. But when the feds have evidence like this...” he shakes his head.
”What does this mean?” I say, my voice rising in pitch.
”I... will most likely... go to prison. For a very long time.” He sighs and shuts his eyes. ”I”m sorry, Riley. You”re going to be okay. The lawyers and I have a solution for you. The feds won”t touch you.
”But you have great attorneys. Can”t they get you off, can”t they work something out...”
”They”ll win me a plea deal. I”m fairly confident of that. But cocaine trafficking usually carries long sentences, especially if I refuse to talk about other crimes.”
”How long?” My heart has leaped into my throat and is threatening to come up and right out of my mouth.
”Anywhere from three years. To life.” His voice cracks on the last word.
”No. No no no noooo,” I begin to cry and thrash. ”You can”t leave me. You can”t. Not now. Not after...”
Not after my mother shot my father, and probably herself. Not after I”ve already lost Lorna.
”When the lawyers get back, we”ll talk the plan we”ve decided for you.”
I jump up, staring at him. ”How can you be so calm? You”re going to prison! We”re going to be apart forever! How can you just sit there and take it?”
Gabriel rises, his dark eyes filled with pain and fury. He grasps my upper arms and gives me a little shake. ”If I think about it too much, if I let it get to me, if I imagine a life in a cell and without you, I”ll walk over to that door, go out on the balcony, and jump. We”re fifteen stories up.”
We stare at each other for a beat. ”Look,” I whisper. ”We could leave now. Just run. We”d have a head start, could probably get to Canada. Let”s go. Please. I can”t live without you.”
Gabriel roughly grabs me and pulls me toward him. He”s shuddering in breath after breath, and I suspect he”s crying. I won”t let him go to check, though.
”If it were that easy, Riley, I would. I would in a heartbeat.”