Page 8 of The Italian Reckoning (A New York Criminal Empire #3)

ROCKY

I t’s not every day I find myself seated outside the police station watching the array of people that come in and out those doors. There’s a healthy mix of cops I know from our payroll records, cops too old to care, and criminals I’ve either dealt with firsthand or know of by reputation.

Leaning back on the bench, I cross my ankle over my knee and bounce my leg as the door swings open for a fourth time and several men walk out. None of them are who I’m looking for, though.

There’s one man in particular I want to get my hands on, a man who was out of state until this afternoon.

A few hours ago, I got a call that the cops had picked up Belle’s ex, and while it pains me that they get to question him first, I know they won’t get anything out of him.

Regardless of the money lining the pockets of every crooked cop in that precinct, they won’t do anything but question him as casually as they’d question a pickpocket.

There’ll be no real fire behind it and he’ll walk away a free man right into my waiting arms.

And hammer, if the situation calls for it.

He’s the only one who knew Belle intimately, and I’m going to learn everything he knows.

The hours tick by painfully slowly.

I watch one woman wrestling with her arrogant son who refuses to put on his coat, not that I can blame him since the sun is warming the city to an unnatural temperature for this time of year.

A dog runs past and briefly licks my fingers after I pet it, and its owner flashes me a flirty smile before she continues on her way.

And a good portion of my time is taken up by watching a homeless guy root around in the trash like he’s certain there’s gold at the bottom.

I give him fifty bucks and send him on his way.

Through all the distractions and the achingly slow passing of time, my mind replays everything I know about Belle and her murder so far.

My father wants this case wrapped up ASAP because he’s already pissed I’m spending time on it.

He doesn’t care that we have a grieving family under our wing to take care of.

All he’s concerned about is making sure the cops close the case and we all move on.

Even with the cops in his back pocket, he doesn’t trust the law. He doesn’t trust anyone.

Not even me.

I’m too reckless for his tastes, apparently.

While he sits in his office closed off from the world, I’m out here making friends.

Connections. This time last year, no one would have dreamed of an Italian and an Irish calling each other friends, but I have Cormac on speed dial.

You’d think my father would have rewarded me for making such a connection, but instead he spent his time beating me for a betrayal that never occurred.

I won’t lie, I was tempted. Cormac’s a great guy.

The door opens again, briefly blinding me with the late-afternoon sun reflecting off the glass and a man matching the description of Belle’s ex starts jogging down the steps.

Jetlag clings to his eyelids and he yawns widely as he reaches the bottom of the steps then takes a right.

I rise from the bench, smooth out the wrinkles in my jacket, and set after him.

I make it four steps before a hand snatches my elbow and jerks me backward. “The hell are you doing here?”

“Sarah!” The lovely, dreamy face from last night is long gone, replaced with the hard, annoyed look I’m much more used to seeing her wear. “What a lovely surprise.”

“I said what the hell are you doing here?” She releases my elbow and crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at me through narrow eyes. “Are you going to finally hand yourself in for all the shit you’ve pulled?”

“Me?” Her lip doesn’t look as swollen as it did last night, but the bruise is darker, and a strange annoyance trickles through my chest. I let that kid off too easily. “I’m just here enjoying the scenery.”

“Bullshit. I know why you’re here.”

My pulse jumps. Did she recognize me last night, after all?

“You’re here checking up on the case, aren’t you? Even after I told you to stay away.”

Turns out Sarah is still in the dark. A small smirk creeps over my lips and I glance pointedly at her mouth. “Did you get that from making baseless assumptions?”

Her eyes widen and a flash of pink warms her cheeks, then she juts out her chin as her jaw tenses. “I make educated predictions,” she replies tightly. “And I know you. Skulking about out here waiting for Belle’s ex to be released.”

She’s shrewd, I’ll give her that.

“You know I can get more out of him than you ever can.”

“Bullshit. You lot won’t leave him alive long enough to tell you the truth.”

“Is that really what you think?” I place one hand on my chest in pretend shock. “You hurt my feelings.”

“Like you even have any.” Her words are as sharp as blades, and for a moment, a genuine rush of discontent floods through me.

“Whatever.” I take a step back. “I’ve got shit to do.”

“Not if it involves him, you don’t.”

“See, that’s where you and I differ, Sarah.

You’re so caught up in your rules and regulations that I bet the real assholes of the world just slip through your fingers.

How many people have you let walk on a technicality, huh?

” Leaning close, I match the anger in her eyes with fire in my words.

“In my world, I can make sure the truly evil people get what’s coming to them while you grant them freedom because someone didn’t cross a T or dot an I.

You’re incapable of getting justice, but me?

Belle’s father will thank me for the rest of his life—hey! ”

The words are barely out of my mouth when Sarah lunges at me, trips me by kicking my ankle out from underneath me, and tosses me to the ground with a knee planted firmly in the small of my back.

“That’s enough out of you,” she snaps, jerking my wrist back. “You’re under arrest for obstruction!”

“You can’t hold me here forever.” The cold handcuffs around my wrist clink against the metal hook keeping me tied to the desk. “Unless you want to, in which case I have no complaints, but there really should be a safe word discussion beforehand.”

“Shut up.” Sarah sits across from me with her arms crossed.

She glares daggers at me, but there’s a subtle hint of uncertainty behind her fury.

She reacted and arrested me because I pushed her buttons, clearly a painful few at that, but now she has me in here and we both know she can’t keep me here for long.

Not just because I have one hell of a good lawyer on retainer.

“I’m just saying…” Spreading my palms flat against the metal table, I lean back with a sigh and bounce my left knee. “You’ll be in more trouble than me when this is over.”

“You were stalking a witness?—”

“Stalking?” Laughter bursts out of me. “I don’t know if I’m more impressed that you think you can sell that or that you’re stupid enough to think that’s what I was doing.”

“I know what you were doing,” she replies. “You basically admitted it.”

“But in your world, you require proof , and we both know you don’t have shit.”

“You’re pretty concerned about the burden of proof for a criminal.”

“I’m just a regular guy.” My leg bounces harder. “Who knows why you’re wasting time with me instead of chasing after the real villain.”

“How do I know you’re not him, hmm?” She leans forward and clasps her hands together on the table while her glasses slip an inch down her nose. “You claim we’re after the same thing, but maybe all I see is a criminal doing everything he can to cover up his crime.”

“You think I killed Belle? You’re fucking delusional.”

“Am I?” She tilts her head much like she did last night, but now she reminds me of a snake rather than a puppy. “Somehow, you’re everywhere I turn.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” I murmur under my breath.

“Seems to me like you’re more connected than you want me to think.”

“She was the daughter of a friend .”

“Is that all it is?” Her brows lift. “Maybe this was a threat? Payback. Intimidation. Maybe Gio didn’t do what you wanted and you killed his niece to punish him.”

“You’re so far from the fucking truth.”

“Am I?” Her voice lifts. “Because we both know that no one on the street has claimed this kill, which means it’s either an inside job or Gio did it himself. So who are you protecting?”

“Why do you care?” Irritation warms my blood to the point that my shirt sticks to me when I shift in my seat. “How many dead bodies cross your path every day, huh? Why do you care so fucking much about Belle?”

“Why do you?” She challenges me right back. “The life you lead, that your family leads. The hundreds of deaths at your hands. Why do you care about Belle when you’re likely responsible for the deaths of ten girls like her?”

“My family and I are upstanding citizens,” I grit out, reciting lines taught to me from a young age.

“And some of us go out of our way to do good and help people. Plus, she’s family.

I take care of my friends. Family loyalty is the only thing you can trust in this world. Certainly not the fucking cops.”

“So family loyalty drives you to interfere with my investigation and attempt to intimidate my witnesses?”

“We both know your investigation is going nowhere.” I slump back and smirk. “Belle’s killer will get what’s coming to him.”

“Killing him won’t bring him to justice,” she replies sharply.

“The only way to get closure for her family is to do this properly. By the book. Don’t you see?

” Her grip on her own hands tightens as she leans forward.

“Let me do my job, Rocky. Let me find him and bring him in. Let him suffer behind bars where he belongs.”

Slowly, I lean forward, meeting her gaze as calmly as I can despite how her idealistic view of the law irritates me like a fever rash. “If I find him first,” I say slowly, “I will kill?—”

“Not another word!” barks a deep voice as the door to the interrogation room flies open. My father, Matteo, strides in with his cane clacking loudly on the stone floor. The captain of the precinct follows and Sarah immediately lurches to her feet.

“Captain, I?—”

“Rocky,” the captain says, ignoring her, “you’re free to go. Please accept our sincerest apologies.”