Ridge shakes his head. “I don’t know. Kevin’s drug career was small time until he got in bad with a runner out of Whitecap. I had no idea his name was on the lease. The building was vacant for a while before Anessa showed up. I’d assumed it had gone unrented, but Pierce said the contract only ran out earlier this year.”
“Why did Kevin need a place with an industrial kitchen?”
“He was baking, if you know what I mean.” Ridge tilts his head in Bennett’s direction and gives him a slight nod. Bennett returns the look, I’m assuming indicating he does know what Ridge means. I’m the only one in the room clueless.
“I think it’s safe to say the Zanettis are looking for Kevin and want their $230,000 back.”
I gasp. “That’s how much money was in my wall?”
Ridge nods once. “And there’s no way it belonged to Kevin.”
“The Zanettis have been running drugs through New York for years, but it’s always been minor league. Too much family squabbling. Weed, maybe a bit of cocaine. Are you saying they’ve switched to production and the hard stuff?”
“Zanetti has been consolidating.”
“Wait!” I cut Ridge off and lean forward almost falling off my chair. “Are you saying this Kevin guy was making drugs in my kitchen?” That has to be some kind of safety violation. Definitely unsanitary.
“I didn’t suspect it until now. I can’t believe Frankie Zanetti had one of his guys cooking drugs so close to my base. You know he’s doing it as a big fuck you to me after we picked up his cousin for that warrant.”
“Yeah, and now he’s swept Anessa up in it.”
“Trust me, I know. My girlfriend works in that bakery too. It could have just as easily been Tabitha there when Mad Dog stopped by.”
“Who is Frankie Zanetti?” I ask. Unable to follow the guys’ back and forth about New York gangs.
Bennett twist in my direction as he answers. “Frankie is the head of the Zanetti household. One of the leading mob families out of New York.”
My nose crinkles up. “I thought the mob was dead?”
Ridge laughs, slapping the top of his desk. “The mob isn’t dead. They’ve just gotten smarter. Between PR firms and reality TV shows, they’re better at blending in.”
“You arrest one and there’s five guys ready to take his place. Frankie gets away with what he does because he’s amassed an army ready to take the fall for him.”
“The good news is,” Ridge drops his feet from the top of the desk and I let out a sigh, excited there’s finally some good news, “we don’t think you are in any danger, but…”
Why is there always a but?
“Until I get the money situation taken care of and find Kevin, it’s not safe for you at the apartment.”
“I can’t go to my apartment? What about the bakery?” I ask. Where will I sleep? How will I bake stuff? What clothes will I wear? Everything I own is in those two floors of living and working space.
Bennett leans closer and sets his hands on the edge of my chair—all indicators I’m taking as warning I’m about to hear bad news. “We need to make sure they aren’t planning to come back first. Then we’ll work on getting the bakery open again.”
“They’re going to come back?” My head swims, unable to process any more information from today. Money, bikers, and a shooting? It’s all too much.
Ridge clamors around in a drawer on the side of his desk. “I’d like you to go to a safe house.”
“No way!” Bennett practically jumps up out of his seat and tension fills the room for some unknown reason. “Absolutely not.”
I clutch the side of my chair, my fingers pressing into the grey fabric until it hurts. Bennett doesn’t move from his poised position, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice as he leans against Ridge’s desk.
Ridge doesn’t seem the least bit affected, but my heart hammers away in my chest. I’ve probably taken five years off the ticker today.
He smiles in my direction, dropping a Manila folder on top of his desk. “Then your house will be – “
“No,” Bennett replies before Ridge finishes the sentence.
The two men share a look, one I’m not entirely sure the meaning of. The silent stare down continues as the seconds tick by.
