Page 35 of Hard Hitter
“Fuck.” He woke up fast, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He looked at Ari and found her looking back at him. They were both still stark naked, and after last night’s festivities, their clothes were still strewn everywhere around the room.
And there were cops knocking on the door.
He grinned suddenly, and she laughed. “Good morning. Welcome to chaos.”
“Right.”
“I’ll tell them I need a minute to get dressed.” She threw on a bathrobe and ran downstairs to deliver this message through the door, while he dug a rumpled T-shirt and a pair of athletic pants out of his suitcase. Then he went down to let them in while Ari went back upstairs to change.
“Good morning,” he said to one uniformed and one plainclothes officer on the doorstep.
Mr. Plainclothes showed his badge. “I’m Detective Miller of the eighty-fourth precinct. Looking to speak to a Mr. Alberto Bettini.” The dectective squinted at him. “But that’s not you. Hey—aren’t you Patrick O’Doul? Am I crazy?”
“Couldn’t say if you’re crazy, man,” Patrick said, trying to keep it casual. “I’m O’Doul, though.”
The detective barked out a laugh, then extended a hand. “Nice to meet you. Saw the Rangers game last month.”
“Patrick?” Ari said from behind him. “Is everything okay?”
Detective Miller looked past him to Ari, who was now dressed in jeans and a sweater. “I need to speak with the owner. Is Alberto here?”
“I’m his niece, and I look after the house. Uncle Alberto lives in West Palm.”
“Ah. Well, we have a warrant to search the property, miss.” He passed her a sheet of paper.
“Search it? For what?”
“Your neighbor who called in the B&E—she identified the burglar as Vincent Giardi. He’s under investigation by law enforcement, and this is his last known address.”
Ari clutched the sheet of paper, her eyes bugging out. “Investigation for what?”
“We can’t disclose the details of our investigation. But we believe—and the judge believes—that Mr. Giardi was conducting illegal business activities from this property.”
O’Doul’s gut clenched. He had a pretty good idea of those illegal activities.
“He doesn’t live herenow,” Ari spat. “I’ve been trying to get rid of his stuff in my basement for weeks.”
“I hear you,” the detective said apologetically. “But the warrant is valid. Do you mind answering some questions while Officer Brock takes a look around?”
Ari scanned the sheet of paper in her hand, then lifted frightened eyes to Patrick’s. “So I justhaveto let them in? That’s it?”
He put a hand to her lower back and rubbed. “Sweetheart, I know I’m supposed to be the heavy in this relationship. But I’ve only seen warrants on television.”
The detective laughed, but Ari only gave him a look intended to demonstrate just how unhelpful he was.
“Call Rebecca,” he suggested. “Tell her that you need to talk to a lawyer, stat.”
She turned away and ran upstairs.
The detective watched her go, shifting his feet, looking uncomfortable. “She’s not supposed to leave my sight. I was trying to be helpful by not asking you two to leave.”
“Ari!” Patrick called up the stairs. “Can you make your call down here?”
She reappeared, Katt Phone in hand. Giving the cop a dirty look, she walked past them both to the sofa and sat down. “Becca! I’ve got a situation. Can you pull out whatever file you keep lawyers in? The douchewhistle has struck again. There are cops searching my house for unlawful activities.” She paused to let Becca express some outrage. “I appreciate it. You, too, honey. Later.” Ari hung up, looking miserable. “Shouldn’t you be at practice?” she asked him.
O’Doul pointed to the big bruise on his temple. “They weren’t going to let me skate this morning anyway. I’ll check in a bit later.” He crossed to the sofa and sat down beside her. “How about I order some egg sandwiches and coffee? We might as well eat while you wait out the long arm of the law.”
She rubbed her temples. “Okay. I mean, you probably need to get going. So I’m good either way.”
