Page 229 of Rosetti Family New York

“Nothing unusual there. Clean, if you can believe it.”

“Nope. I can’t,” Rafe says, leading me to a table at the far end of the room.

I have a lot of talents, but financial espionage isn’t one of them, and I try to keep up as they dive deeper into talk of money laundering. How money could disappear through a stream of banks, switch hands a dozen times, and end up looking as clean as if it was earned by Girl Scouts raising money for polar bears. Even dirtier money, Emilio’s saying, free of any fingerprints. I nod like I’m following, but I’m pretty sure the confusion shows on my face.

Rafe watches me as Emilio talks, and I’m convinced he’s getting as much of a kick out of my bewilderment as he is from the actual conversation.

“Legitimate investments,” Emilio says. “Can’t pin a damn unpaid parking fine on him.”

His voice is so calm, you’d think we were talking about whether it’ll rain tomorrow instead of which mob family’s screwing them.

I remember what he said earlier, about how the Callahans’ books look clean. Now I wonder if that means their money’s strolling through a chain of banks, too, getting bleached and ironed along the way.

I keep pace with them, and they don’t seem to mind me lurking, but I feel like I’m hearing things I’m not meant to.

“Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place,” Emilio says.

“Double-check the Callahan accounts, then look into anyone associated with them. If some asshole gave Chase Callahan a blowjob ten years ago, I want you to pull her records. The money has to be going somewhere. You know what Dad always says…”

“If you want the crook, follow his book,” Emilio finishes.

That’s so true. I’ve spent this whole time on Maddy’s case trying to analyze the psychology of everyone involved, from the mob stooges to the shifty boyfriend, but I never thought to follow the money trail. If there is one.

“Keep me in the loop,” Rafe says.

“Obviously.”

Emilio’s about to leave, but I reach out and stop him. He gives me a sharp look, surprised.

“You think you could look into someone for me?” I ask, glancing at Rafe.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly interested.

“I have a name,” I say. “Ethan Reyes from the Red Hooks. Maybe something in his bank accounts will give us a clue about what Maddy was involved in. About why she’s dead.”

“Maddy?” Emilio asks. “The dead chick?”

The words hit me, sucking the air from my lungs. A flare of anger rises as I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but the heatspreads to my cheeks and neck. I know the color is blooming like a neon sign, and I feel everyone’s eyes on me.

“She’s a lot more than just a… a dead chick. She was my best friend. The very best person in the whole world.”

I hear the quiver in my voice. I feel raw, and I sense that Emilio isn’t the only one paying attention. Rafe must see the storm about to break because he pierces Emilio with a glare sharp enough to cut through brick. The kind of look that could strip paint from walls.

Emilio stares at me a moment, his eyes shifting from detached to something a little more human. It isn’t until Rafe gives him a death stare that he mumbles out an apology.

“Didn’t know she meant that much to you,” Emilio says, actually sounding like he might mean it.

I nod, trying to stay composed. Trying to ignore the stares from the rest of the table. Trying to act like the knife in my heart didn't just twist a little more.

“It’s fine,” I say, even though it’s not. Even though it never will be.

“You think this Ethan guy has someone else’s money?” Emilio asks.

“No idea,” I say. “But I’d like to know if he was sitting on a pile of cash.”

“Rafe okay with you asking?” He jerks his head in Rafe’s direction. “Without running it by him first?”

“Rafe doesn’t control me,” I growl, throwing Rafe a challenging look.