Page 78 of Tormented Diamonds
“What are you saying, Agent?”
“We want your father’s killer brought to justice,” Lattimore says matter-of-factly. “You can either help us do that or go down with him.”
“What you mean is you wantGiannibrought to justice,” I snap. “You don’t care about guilt or innocence as long as Uncle Sam gives you a pat on the back, right?”
Gibbs responds to his partner’s side-eye with a tight nod that causes a shift in demeanor I don’t like—as if the page flipped to a hidden epilogue.
“What do you know about Liam Callahan?”
All the oxygen leaves my body. I fight to recover, but it’s too late. I feel my panic sweeping outward, staining my face with guilt. “I-I don’t know who that is.”
“That’s interesting. Don’t you find that interesting, Mike?”
“I do, Ted,” Gibbs drawls. “Especially since we weren’t the ones who connected him to your father’s murder. We simply followed the trail of breadcrumbs left by your husband’s men.” His lips curve into a smug smile. “How generous of them.”
I’m not sure if they truly know of Liam's fate, or if they’re throwing out a hook to see if I’ll bite. That’s the reason I’mhere. Gianni has played their game before. He knows when he’s backed into a corner versus being herded toward a dead end.
They’re counting on me being an unknowing accessory to murder, not a willing participant.
“If the point of this is to stroke each other’s dicks, I can step out of the room.”
“The point is Callahan is missing,” Lattimore presses.
“I’m not sure how that involves me.”
“Because he has direct ties to Providence.”
I shrug. “Providence is a big city.”
“True,” he agrees, sliding his fingers acrossthe edge of the table as if building up to his own crescendo. “Big enough for the cartel to run a shipping ring through its port. Your husband didn’t seem to know anything about that when we questioned him. How about you, Mrs. Marchesi? Doyouknow anything?”
It’s a fishing expedition. If they knew anything about the trafficking ring or its ties to me or Gianni, they’d chase federal clout and pin it on us.
“I’m not sure why you’d think I would.”
He leans close, his stance like that of a starved coyote moments before sinking its fangs into a cornered deer. “Because you’re part of the trifecta connected to the man at the helm.”
My heart leaps into my throat. “What man?”
Gibbs cuts in, his sharp gaze dropping as he flips through his file. “It seems in the past few weeks, the Providence Organized Crime Task Force has made progress it hasn’t seen in twenty-two years. What else happened twenty-two years ago, Mike?”
Lattimore taps his bony finger to his chin. “I believe that’d be Carol Reese’s murder.”
Gibbs gives the table three successive whacks. “Ding, ding, ding! Give the man a prize.” He turns his attention back on me, his expression hardening. “Files have surfaced detailing the corruption at the port and within the department itself. Care to take a guess who gathered all this damning evidence?”
I don’t have to guess. I already know.
“Detective Jack Ledger,” he announces proudly. “It appears a string of moral fiber still existed in the Providence PD. Your father’s protégé did some in-depth stalking in the days leading up to his death that named and shamed some important people.” He shrugs, tossing a flash drive in the center of the table. “It’s probably what got him killed.”
“Is there more, or is this a choose-your-own-adventure type of story?” Unfortunately, the intent is strongerthan the result, leaving my tone thin and reedy.
“Ledger had proof your father was on the take and very aware of the shipments going out of the port,” he continues, his confidence escalating with his volume. “Now, here’s where it gets interesting. The operation appears to be run by an Irishman named Declan Flynn, someone both your father and Callahan had extensive contact with. Does the name ring a bell?”
His voice becomes hollow and distant.
Declan Flynn.
Dagger.
