Annie Seymour 01-Sacred Cows (23 page)

Read Annie Seymour 01-Sacred Cows Online

Authors: Karen E. Olson

Tags: #Career Woman Mysteries

BOOK: Annie Seymour 01-Sacred Cows
3.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“It won’t take long,” I promised, and it was a promise I knew I could keep. This story was a piece of cake, I could do it with my eyes closed.

“No. Bennett himself has said you’re not to work the rest of the week.”

“Do I need to get my résumé together?” I asked.

Marty shook his head. “No. This’ll pass. But we have to humor him.”

I hoped for my career’s sake that Vinny found Torrey sooner rather than later. I wasn’t sure how much of this I could take.

“We can send someone else tomorrow morning,” Marty said.

I shrugged. It was no skin off my nose anyway. I didn’t even want to do the story. I went to my desk and sat down, wondering where my official seat-warmer, Dick Whitfield, was. Oh, yeah, he had that press conference. Could he have finished the story already?

I strolled over to Marty’s desk again. “Hey, what happened at the press conference?” His eyebrows shot up and I scowled. “I just want to know, okay?”

He hit a few keys on his computer and pulled up Dick’s story. “I’ve been trying to figure it out. It’s all over the place. But mainly it seems the Peabodys are pissed at the school and the city and intend to sue both.”

Which confirmed what Melissa Peabody’s uncle had told me at the memorial service. I wanted to point that out, but I held my tongue. I was in too much shit already. “My mother’s firm is involved, isn’t it?”

He peered at me over his glasses. “Did she tell you about that?”

“She said the family called them, but it was off the record.”

Marty frowned but didn’t say anything.

I went back to my desk, playing back my conversation with Vinny in my head.

My phone was winking at me, and I dialed my voice mail.

“Hi, Annie. It’s Richard Wells.”

A second after I wondered what the fuck he would want, he gave me the answer. “I was hoping maybe we could get together on this Mark Torrey story. I saw your piece and figured you know how to reach him. And maybe some time down the road I could help you out.”

Christ, this guy wouldn’t let up, would he? What did he think I was going to do? Hand over all my notes and bow down to him just because he worked for the goddamned
New York Times
? But this did tell me that he probably didn’t have as much as I did. For a second, I was happy about that, until I remembered Bennett didn’t want me writing about Torrey anymore. And it was only a matter of time before Richard Wells found someone who would talk to him.

I didn’t even wait for him to give me his number, I just hung up and quickly dialed another number. Paula answered on the first ring.

“You guys close to Torrey yet?” I didn’t even say hello.

She didn’t seem to mind. “We’ve got a good lead. What do you hear?”

“I’ve got something you might be interested in.” Vinny would kill me, but this game was getting old. I just wanted it over, I wanted my life back. Rather, I wanted my job back. If the feds got their hands on Vinny’s information, I could be exonerated and back on my beat. And maybe, just maybe, I could beat Richard Wells on this story.

“I’m listening.”

“I can’t tell you right now. I’m at work. How late can I call you? I’ve got a meeting at ten.”

“Jesus, Annie, are you okay? Has Torrey been in touch with you again?”

“No. Really. But I got my hands on something you may need.”

“You can call my cell phone anytime. Be careful, okay? There’s a lot of money at stake and the guy is running scared. Never know what anyone like that will do. He’s got connections everywhere.”

The warning reverberated through the dial tone. I glanced at the clock and saw it was close to seven. Time for my dinner with Tom.

He’d left a message on my cell phone to meet him at a Thai place on State Street. Despite all the food I’d inhaled during the day, the menu looked appetizing. Tom, on the other hand, did not. In Vinny I liked the unshaven look, but on Tom it looked menacing, complementing his scowl.

I pushed the menu to the side. “Something tells me we might not be eating.” Too bad.

“This isn’t working anymore.”

I bit my lip. “I know.”

“I think we need to just call it quits. It’s been fun while it lasted.”

The waitress hovered. I ordered two beers. I wondered what Tom would drink.

“This case has been tearing us apart,” Tom continued when she left, “and I guess we’re just not strong enough to get through it.”

“I don’t know what to say.” How original. I hate being dumped. It’s why I don’t like monogamous relationships. How had ours become that without us knowing it?

Tom kept going as if I hadn’t said anything. “I’ve been figuring you’d be breaking up with me because of Vinny DeLucia anyway.”

I took a deep breath before lashing out. “There’s nothing going on with me and Vinny.”

“Give me a break, Annie. You’re spending all sorts of time with him, he’s in your apartment, he’s saving your life. Christ, the guy is hooked on you, can’t you see it?”

For a moment I forgot what was going on and wondered if I really was getting under Vinny’s skin. But Tom’s face brought me back. “No, Tom. I can’t. He’s getting married in the spring. He’s working on the Torrey thing and he thinks I can help. God knows why.”

Tom stood up. “Shit, Annie. Stop lying to yourself. I’m sorry about dinner, but I’ve lost my appetite.” He took a couple of bucks out of his wallet, I guess for the beers. “Just be careful, okay? Torrey’s unstable. He’s backed up against the wall, and we don’t know what that’ll do to him.” He handed me the money and walked away.

As I watched him leave, the beers came. The waitress was going to take one away, but I told her to leave it. As I sipped, I realized that was the second warning in less than an hour about the same thing.

Tom and Paula should both know I never listen.

CHAPTER 19

Since I didn’t have dinner, I stopped and picked up a powdered doughnut and a cup of coffee on the way to see Vinny. The doughnut was stale and the coffee was lukewarm and I spilled some on my crotch in the car so it looked like I’d pissed on myself.

I drove down Wooster Street, noting the activity at Sally’s and Pepe’s and at Libby’s. I had an immediate craving for a cannoli, but it probably wouldn’t sit well on top of the doughnut. If I was lucky, Vinny could get me a slice of pepperoni pizza. My pants waist was a little tight anyway so it wouldn’t matter. With Tom breaking up with me, getting beat up, being way too confused about Vinny, and my job on the line, putting on a few pounds was the least of my worries.

I eased into a parking spot in front of Vinny’s parents’ place, but before I was even out of the car, Vinny’s hand was under my elbow, helping me out.

“Anyone follow you?”

“Give me a break.” He led me around the back of the building, opening a back door. I stepped into the darkness and squinted, hoping my eyes would adjust quickly so I wouldn’t trip on anything.

“I’m not kidding.” His voice was serious.

“No, at least I don’t think I was followed.”

I tried to shake off his hand, but it got tighter.

“There’re stairs here.”

No shit. I managed to keep myself upright while stumbling down three of them. I felt a strong arm around my waist and I regretted the doughnut.

We went through another door and a light turned on, blinding me. “What the fuck . . .”

I blinked a couple of times and when I focused, I saw the room was full of boxes, canned tomatoes, olives, all the wonderful stuff that makes pizza. My mouth started to water.

“There’s no time to eat. Didn’t you get supper?” I hated it when Vinny read my mind. Or maybe he saw the saliva dripping out of the corner of my mouth.

I shrugged. I wasn’t going to admit to my unhealthy meal. “What are we doing?”

“I’ve got a meeting set up.”

“Torrey?”

“No.” Vinny stopped riffling through some papers on one of the boxes and stared at me. “Are you on drugs or something tonight?”

“Tom just broke up with me.”

His face changed for just a second before the grin was back. “His loss.”

I sighed.

“Hey, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Believe it or not,” Vinny said simply. “Let’s get to work. I need to find Torrey and fast.”

“You mean you won’t get paid if you can’t get Torrey.”

Vinny smiled that long, sexy smile that made my knees weak. “That’s what I like about you, Annie. You’ve got my number.”

“And your fiancée doesn’t?”

“I don’t want to talk about her. We don’t have time to get into it now.”

“You screwed up my cow story.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“I don’t know why I’m here. Why don’t you just let the feds find Torrey?”

“Hickey’s waiting for us. We can’t be late.”

“Hickey?”

Vinny nodded. “Okay, quickly, this is what’s up. Hickey and Torrey go way back; they went to high school together.” He winked. “Kind of like you and me.”

I didn’t want to think about it. “Okay,” I prompted.

“After they both got out of college, different colleges, Hickey managed to start up a lucrative business for himself, and Torrey went off to law school. They hooked up again a few years ago at a school reunion. Hickey had one of his girls with him.” He paused. “Torrey went home with her.”

“Torrey told me he never paid for the girls,” I said. “He’s kind of good-looking, if you like that type, he’s rich, he’s got a job.” I remembered how he’d sucked me in for that split second; I still couldn’t explain it.

“He’s a control freak,” Vinny said. “He likes the young girls because he can control them.” He paused, and I wondered if there was something else to it. Something uglier. But Vinny just shrugged. “Anyway, you’re right, Torrey’s never paid for it, at least not in the way we’d normally think. He offered Hickey a business proposition in return for the girls, and, being Hickey and greedy, he went along with it. Hickey’s been laundering money through his business for Torrey, along with some of Torrey’s other buddies. The feds got one of them this afternoon, but they still don’t know where Torrey is.”

“And you do? Come on, Vinny, he’s probably in South America by now.”

“Actually, he’s in Italy.”

I was impressed. It seemed like he really knew this for a fact. “Are we going to Italy? I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“Not yet, maybe one of these days, but I’ve got a meeting set up with someone who can lead us to him.” Vinny picked up a set of keys. “Come on, we’re taking my dad’s car.”

We went back up the stairs, the smell of pepperoni invading my nostrils. My stomach grumbled loudly.

“Oh, Christ, you should’ve eaten before you came.” Vinny left me alone in the hall, disappearing toward a distant light. I stayed put. I didn’t want to run into his mother again. I had the distinct impression she didn’t like me too much. She was probably best friends with Rosie.

Vinny’s silhouette filled the doorway and he opened the door. I followed him, not seeing the pizza box until he put it on top of an old Buick. I pulled the top open and felt hot steam hit my face.

I grabbed a piece before he took the box and put it in the car. The tomato sauce moved down my throat and I groaned. I couldn’t help it. It just came out.

“I didn’t realize a pizza could give you an orgasm.” He started the car.

I couldn’t think of anything smart to say back, and anyway, my mouth was full of pizza. I didn’t see where we were going until I swallowed the last bite.

“This isn’t the best neighborhood,” I thought out loud, moving my hand to lick the last of the sauce off.

That’s when Vinny took my wrist and guided my fingers into his mouth.

“Pretty good sauce,” he said when he was done. I gripped the armrest and tried to keep myself from lunging at him. Men think about baseball, but the only thing that came to mind was Dick Whitfield sitting at my desk, using my phone and my pens. It had the same effect.

“We’re here,” Vinny said casually.

I peered out into the darkness at a row of storefronts. “Here?” Grand Avenue is not known for its hospitality at night.

I saw a shadow move and instinctively pulled back.

“It’s Hickey.” Vinny was out of the car.

I opened the door and stepped carefully onto the sidewalk. As a cop reporter, I spend a lot of time in dicey neighborhoods, but I’m always cautious. Hickey’s protruding stomach made me a little more relaxed.

“You didn’t say she was coming along.” I noticed he didn’t seem too upset about it.

“Might help.”

“Might not.”

They were worse than a Laurel and Hardy routine.

“I am here,” I said. “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not. And can someone please tell me what the game plan is?”

Vinny and Hickey were walking, shall we say, briskly up the sidewalk. I was glad I was wearing my flat shoes. Pumps would’ve killed me. I wanted to whine a little more about how they were keeping me in the dark, but I was still a little hungry and very tired. I wished all this detective stuff could wait until morning.

They turned into an alley, and I had no choice but to follow them. We went through a door and up some stairs. Hickey turned on a small light on a desk. There were five phones, notebooks full of pen marks scattered about.

“Welcome to Come Together,” Hickey said proudly.

“Nice digs,” I said, sitting down. We should’ve brought the rest of the pizza up.

“We’re not staying long,” Vinny warned.

Hickey picked up a phone, dialed and hung up. “She’s got a pager,” he told me.

“Who?”

Vinny shook his head. “For a smart person, you’re really being stupid.”

“Can’t you give me a little clue about what the fuck we’re doing here?”

“I love it when she talks dirty,” Vinny told Hickey, who made an obscene gesture just as the phone rang.

“Twenty minutes. Twin Pines Diner.” That was the place I met Hickey for the first time. What was it he’d said? Something about meeting all his girls there. I wasn’t sure I was going to like this.

Hickey turned off the light, throwing us back into darkness.

“Couldn’t someone have brought along a flashlight?” I asked.

They acted again as if I wasn’t there. If I was only good for a joke, they shouldn’t have brought me along.

Other books

My Soul Keeper by Ker Dukey
The World and Other Places by Jeanette Winterson
That Boy by Jillian Dodd
Her Tattooed Fighter by Jenika Snow
GirlMostLikelyTo by Barbara Elsborg
Romantic Screenplays 101 by Sally J. Walker
Fan Girl by Brandace Morrow
The Smithsonian Objective by David Sakmyster