“And just how the fuck did you get that right?” he asks.
“Not important,” I reply. “But I’m taking care of things my own way.”
I hear him exhale. “Dammit, Richards,” he finally mutters. My career name still sounds strange to my own ears. “I wish you’d take care of things while working for us.”
“That’s not going to happen, Reed,” I say firmly. “You know that.”
“But why not?” he says sharply. “The work you’re doing now would be so much easier if you had access to our resources.”
“Sure,” I say drily. “And then you’d have me over a barrel with admin and bullshit that will take me out of the field. Not to mention that you only offer me those resources when you run out of options.”
“Fuck it, Richards, that’s your own damn fault, and you know it,” he snaps back. “We know you don’t like it when we interfere with your work. And the only reason we do that is because…”
“Because what?” I ask.
“Because, Matt, you’re the fucking best at what you do, dammit,” he mutters. I feel my brows lift. The asshole definitely wants something. Bryant Reed doesn’t offer compliments unless he’s angling for something. And getting in on a first-name basis? Yeah, he’s blowing smoke up my ass.
“Well, I can be the best out here on my own,” I say, not bowing to his flattery.
“Arrogance, Matt? I didn’t expect that from you,” he grumbles, changing tactics. “You did good on the last bust, but don’t let the Caraldi gig go to your head.”
What the hell does he take me for? “This job isn’t about arrogance,” I snap.
“No, it’s about bullshit and bravado, and right now, you’re clocking up more than your share. Don’t tell me those wise guys stained your soul, Matt.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth,” I reply. As far as the FBI is concerned, I’ve just pulled a mammoth undercover stint to take out the Don of the Caraldi family. They’ll never know my personal investment. That Dario Caraldi is my half-brother. Or that his father murdered my mother. The work I did on that assignment wasn’t for any kind of career glory. It was a vendetta.
And because I’d sworn to protect my younger brother.
“This case is big, Matt, bigger than the Caraldi deal,” Reed goes on. “We’ve had eyes on Mark Whitlock for years. But the fucker is slippery as an eel. We know he’s dirty but shit just doesn’t stick to him. If we can get in via the Carter connection…”
“That’s where you want me to come in,” I say. Frankly, I wasn’t really surprised when I got his call this morning. Everyone in this field is watching everyone else. I’m pretty sure they knew the minute I was dispatched to get Andy to safety. No doubt hoping for some kind of leverage. Well, I just got the best leverage of all.
Now…do I use it?
“Carter’s as dirty as Whitlock, Matt. Those families have been in bed together for decades. It was never a surprise to us when the son got in on the action. And frankly, he’s the most twisted of the lot. Screwing around with Caraldi business was just the cherry on the cake.”
I don’t respond. I’m keeping my cards close to my chest on this one – he doesn’t need to know about Mark trying to force Andy into a marriage. He doesn’t need to know anything about Andy at all if I can help it. Though I suspect that’s not going to be easy.
“So, what do you want from me?” I ask. I hear him exhale through his nostrils.
“I want you to head this thing up, Matt. Run the task force. Make this case stick. Getting Mark Whitlock behind bars will be a career-maker for you. When he goes down, he’ll take half the crime lords in the city down with him. You could pick any position you wanted after that. Write your own paycheck.”
I shake my head. He’s just not getting me. I don’t want any of that shit. And money is not an issue. My time with Dario was lucrative – even without doing business in his criminal circles, I was able to accumulate wealth, which I invested wisely. I may have given up almost ten years of my life to work that case, but I came out a rich man. Certainly better off than being a Bureau pencil-pusher for that time.
“Reed, there’s nothing you can offer me that will make me change my mind,” I say. “But I’m not arguing that this asshole needs to go down. Carter too.”
“So, what do you have planned?” he asks.
“Let me think on it,” I say. “After the wedding, I’ll be in. If you want to get on board, it’ll be on my terms.” Reed mutters darkly, but I miss the words. A slight grating sound from nearby has my senses pinging.
“Matt? Matt!” he says sharply, trying to draw my attention.
“Listen, I gotta go,” I say to him, my attention now elsewhere. I strain to hear over the traffic sounds from below but don’t pick up the strange sound again. Was it my imagination?
Or was somebody listening in?
Chapter 6
