Glass Ceilings (22 page)

“Yeah. He found out I gave you Angela's interrogation. How, I have no idea. I meant it when I said I'd always have your back, and I still do. Take my advice, and let us handle this.”

“I can't. You knew that, this shouldn't surprise you.”

“It doesn't. It scares me. I'm gonna be honest, things don't look good for your brother-in-law. Let us handle it.” He hung up, leaving me feeling sick to my stomach.

Although the day had been nothing but pleasant from start to finish, all I felt on our ride home was unease filling me from head to toe. My brain hurt from working overtime with all the scenarios I concocted in regards to Ronnie's murder. The facts I was sure of made no sense to the end result. The speculations made even less sense. Nothing made sense except the woman beside me, and the sleeping boy behind me.

I'd always approached my job in a very clinical manner. I was finding it impossible to channel the professionalism I needed when normally working a case. My heart raced at the thought of all I suddenly had to lose. I reached for her hand, grabbing it a bit more forcefully than I had intended.

“What's wrong?” she asked with the dashboard lights illuminating half her face. “Are you okay?”

“I am right now.”

Turning my attention back to the dark roads I navigated, I lifted our hands and kissed the back of hers. Angela didn't push, sensing my thoughts were elsewhere and letting me have the time to think.

When I glanced her way the soft glow of her Kindle clearly showed the thoughtful expression on her face. When she felt my eyes on her, she looked my way with a smile that caused my heart to ache for her. She didn't deserve all the worrying she endured just because that motherfucker Delarro wanted her.

Shortly after the wedding, she'd surprisingly opened up out of the blue and told me different ways Ronnie would mentally torment her. Instilling fear was his tactic to control her. Forceful grips on her face or holding her against the wall by her throat, as he'd calmly tell her how much he loved her, were just a few examples of his sick mind games. So many times she'd startle at seeing him quietly leaning in the doorway watching her with an evil leer on his face. Toward the end, he'd disappear for days, never explaining where he'd been, always keeping her guessing as to when he'd show up.

One night after we made love, she thanked me for being everything he wasn't. Rage coursed through my veins when she explained that sex had become a battle of wills between them. He'd quickly lose his patience with her and end up forcibly taking what he wanted. Suspecting that he was cheating on her, she'd torn apart their apartment looking for any evidence of infidelity that she could find…anything to hold over his head.

While searching, she'd found several handguns that she'd never known he owned. He was no longer the man she fell in love with, and she'd made the decision to leave him. When she told him that she was going, he'd thrown her against the wall and squeezed her throat until she gasped for breath. The moment he left for his annual trip to Italy over the holidays, she'd packed her things and moved in with Eve. It was a few days later when she'd met me.

She'd known that leaving as she did would bring plenty of trouble her way once he got back to Chicago. She'd also known it was time for her to start fresh and move back East to find the person she'd lost while in the relationship with Ronnie.

When Luca had discovered Ronnie's real name and what his family ties were, his threats had become all the more real to her. And when she found out she was pregnant, she'd known that hiding from him would be the only chance she had to survive him.

The reality that he could have found her and my son haunted me. By some miracle, whatever had been happening in Ronnie's life at the time he was murdered could have saved my family's lives in the interim. I may never know, but I'd never forget that the threats had been real. From the grave he'd continued to torment her, and now me.

He'd gotten exactly what he fucking deserved.

A single bullet to the head, no struggle, no forced entry—it almost seemed too humane for that pig. Whoever had killed Ronnie had to have known him on some personal level. For someone to walk in and shoot him at close range without a fight meant Ronnie never saw it coming.

The Feds felt David killed him.

David told Luca it was Gortez.

Something wasn't adding up.

Once we got to our place, I anxiously needed to comb through every piece of Ronnie's case file for the thousandth time. The flash drive buried in my pocket felt like a brick of lead reminding me it was there.

While Angela removed Nicholas from his stroller, I frantically dug through the thick file I stole from headquarters searching for the pages that mentioned Gortez.

Angela came closer to where I started up my laptop, holding a very tired Nicholas. “Say good night to Daddy.”

“Good night, my son. I love you.” He looked up as I peppered kisses on his soft messy hair. Baby shampoo overwhelmed my senses, calming me instantly. The smell was now one of my absolute favorite things, up there with his mother's vanilla scent.

“Do you want help?” I asked Angela, as she carried him toward his room.

“No, I'm just going to change his diaper and put him down. That's why I bathed him at Ella and Ben's. Besides the sand being everywhere, I knew he'd be exhausted later.”

“Okay.” Uncharacteristically, I didn't argue as I logged into the FBI database.

Debating whether to open the flash Ben gave me, I decided to wait until later, especially not knowing what I'd find on David. One by one I opened files on my hard drive, skimming them quickly before moving to the next. Six documents in, there it was. As I remembered, Raul Gortez was suspected of gunrunning a team of nine up the I-95 corridor from Georgia to New York under the Pucci family control. NYPD were close to a bust, but that was weeks ago…and that could only mean that something absolutely halted the case.

“He's out like a light.” Her hands rested on my shoulders before I felt her lips on my neck. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No, baby. I'm fine.”

“Are you going to be a while?” Turning on the kitchen stool until I faced her, I pulled her into the space between my spread legs. “You look so tired,” she said, running her fingers through my hair. “You haven't been sleeping much lately, Nick. I'm worried about you.”

“I've never slept much. In fact, it's been just the opposite since moving in with you. I haven't slept this well in years.” With my hands cupping her ass, I pulled closer until we were nose to nose. “Since moving in with you, I've also had the best sex I've had in years…almost two years to be exact.”

“What a coincidence, me too.” Her lips briefly touched mine before she pulled away with a smile.

“That's all I get?” I crushed my lips against hers, needing that connection that inevitably came when part of my body invaded a part of hers. My tongue rolled around the inside of her mouth as I lost myself in the feel of her, temporarily forgetting my muddled thoughts. We resurfaced, gasping for a much-needed breath. “Know what I think?”

“What's that, Mr. Farley?”

With my eyes pinned to hers, I bent my head and gently bit down on one of the pebbled nipples taunting me through the flimsy cotton fabric. “I think we need to take this to that big comfy bed of ours.”

“I think that's a great idea.”

After Angela and I made love, I watched her sleep for a long while, taking in her gorgeousness, memorizing every part of her face.

Her chestnut hair fanned around the pillow as she slept with both hands tucked beneath her head. The creaminess of her complexion offset the pink that tinged the apples of her cheeks. Deep in sleep, her eyelids fluttered, making me wonder what she dreamt about. A small smile played on her lips causing them to part ever so slightly. I couldn't resist and reached out to trace them with my fingertip, watching them flex beneath my touch.

I couldn't bring myself to leave her side and open the can of worms that waited for me on that flash drive. I literally had to drag myself out of that bed. Procrastinating wouldn't change anything, or make it go away. While sitting alone in our dimly lit kitchen, my heartbeat spiked as I slowly slid the flash drive into the USB port. The icon instantly appeared on my desktop, announcing it was ready and waiting for me to open it. Unable to, I sat staring while the cursor impatiently blinked over and over. If it could speak, it'd be telling me to stop being a fucking coward and open the damn file to deal with whatever was waiting for me.

I clicked open the only file available on the flash drive. Grainy images popped up of a man who looked suspiciously like David both entering and exiting Ronnie's building, time-stamped the day of the murder. Page two was David's military ID picture attached to the all-points bulletin.

“What the fuck?” I said out loud. This couldn't be true.

A tortured gasp behind me forced my hand to slam the laptop shut on a reflex. I immediately turned to see her standing frozen in a state of shock.

She stepped closer and opened the laptop with a shaky hand. “Nick?” My name was nothing more than a pained whisper. “What does this mean?”

I reached for her, pulling her into my arms. My hands found a warm patch of skin beneath her pajama top. “We don't know the facts yet, baby.”

“When did you find out?” She searched my face waiting for an answer.

“At Ben's. He told me there's an APB out on David, and I called George to confirm.” I knew the look she gave me, and quickly added, “I just opened it now to see for myself, and I was planning on telling you. I swear.”

“He didn't kill Ronnie. He couldn't have.” Her voice cracked on Ronnie's name.

I wasn't ready to tell her the man on the tapes that were retrieved from Ronnie's building looked suspiciously like David. Instead, I pulled her into my chest in a poor attempt to try and comfort her. She wouldn't have it, and pushed away from me while tears began to fall. “You need to help him, Nick.”

“Baby, I will do everything I can to find out the truth.”

“I know my brother. He wouldn't do this!”

“Angela.” I reached for her again but failed. She wanted no part of my comforting so I let her be, watching helplessly as she paced in a state of panic.

“If he did, it had to have been in self-defense.”

“Ronnie died from a single bullet wound to his head, there wasn't a struggle or even a forced entry.”

She stopped suddenly and her mouth gaped open before she spoke. “You think he's guilty?” I pinned her with my gaze, refusing to confirm or deny her claim. She shook her head in disbelief. “You do think he's guilty,” she said, turning away from me.

“I don't know what to think, Angela.”

“How about the benefit of the doubt?”

“I'd have to know him to do that.”

“
I
know him. I know him better than anyone, even myself.”

“You can't possibly expect me to make a judgment call based on the fact that he's your brother. He's hiding, Ang. If he didn't have anything to do with this, why would he be hiding instead of cooperating?”

“Maybe Ronnie's family found out about what Luca and David did.”

“Then your cousin would be hiding, too. I need to find David.”

“And if you do, are you turning him in?” The look I gave her spoke volumes. “You said if we got married, you would protect us!”

“No, what I said was that my one and only goal was to protect you and my son!”

At my outburst, Nicholas cried out from behind his bedroom door. Angrily, she wiped at her cheeks before turning to attend to him. Her reaction was just what I expected, as was the nausea that roiled in my gut. So why then did I feel like my insides were also doused in acid?

Desperate for answers, I opened the picture Luca had forwarded to me earlier. The glare across the front window of the car prevented me from seeing the driver, but the man getting into the passenger seat was clear as day. Using my thumb and pointer to magnify the image caused it to blur slightly, yet at the same time gave me a better look at his face.

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly, standing a few steps away.

I turned and without hesitation stalked right toward her, taking her into my arms.

“Angela, I promise you I'll do everything I can to help David,” I repeated before pulling her closer. Surprisingly, she let me hold her tightly while sobs wracked her.

“He's my family, Nick. He's a good man, a hero. He wouldn't kill Ronnie.” She was repeating herself, rambling through her tears.

As I comforted her, I hoped it was true. There was only one way to find out if David's theory was right. I had to find her brother, before it was too late.

I led her to the couch, and with my hands on her upper arms turned her to ensure I had her undivided attention.

“Luca called me today while we were at Ben's. He said David sent a text to a burner phone. It was a picture of a man named Gortez. He claims he's the real murderer.” I opened the text and showed her the picture. “This man is Gortez, and your brother took this picture outside Ronnie's building. I don't know when the picture was taken.”

She looked up, lost. “What does it mean?”

“I need to find out.”

“How?”

“David. We know he got your messages. Did you send them to his normal cell number?”

“No.” She stood and walked over to the foyer table to get her cell. Unlocking it quickly, she then handed it to me. The phone contact she had for David didn't match the number the FBI had for him.

“How long has he had this number?”

“Not long. He changed it after I got the restraining order on Ronnie.”

“This number must also be a burner phone. Thankfully he gave the FBI a different number, otherwise they would have tracked him by now. Does he know I'm FBI?”

Her brow instantly furrowed. “When I was brought down for questioning on the thirteenth, I hadn't spoken to David in person since that day. I never mentioned it in any of my texts, either.” A distant look appeared on her face before she said, “I did tell him your name. I suppose he could have found out.”

I scrolled through her texts to David, as well as to Luca. I sent screen shots of his contact info to my phone. I then sent David a simple text:
YOU MUST call me. I have info. A.

“I doubt he'll call.”

“I don't expect him to, but all I need is for him to open and read it.”

Knowing Ben was most likely sleeping, I shot off one last text to him:
Need an urgent trace on 212-555-8181.

Our eyes met, and I leaned closer to cup her face in my hand. “There's nothing more I can do now, so let's get some sleep.”

There was no way I'd be sleeping, but she needed to. Fatigue mixing with her stress level showed all over her face. Our son would be up in a few short hours, and I needed her to rest.

“Come.” I stood, holding a hand out to her. She took it, and followed me into our room.

I stripped down, and slipped in beside her in bed. She settled against me beneath the covers, her warm breaths hitting my chest, bringing me much needed comfort. Eventually, her breathing evened out, and I knew she had fallen asleep. The rest of the night was spent staring up at the ceiling as I wondered what tomorrow would bring.

While Angela showered, I sat with Nicholas to feed him his breakfast.

“Dada, twain.” He pointed to the set that sat a few feet away.

“Sure, dude.”

I went to grab his favorite train for him, placing it on the sticky, syrup-covered tray of his high chair. As he distracted himself, I took the opportunity to feed him a few more bites of his pancakes. A devious smile spread on his face when he saw my fingers waiting for him to take the pancake, and without hesitation he bit down on them with his vicious chomping sound.

“Ouch.” I pretended to be injured, shaking my hand out dramatically.

He belly-laughed before asking, “Again?”

“Okay, but don't tell Mommy,” I whispered. She didn't care for our game, and claimed I was encouraging his naughtiness.

Just as we played out the scene again, my cell rang with the screen showing Ben's number. I'd been waiting for his call, and immediately answered while shoving another piece of pancake into my son's mouth before his tiny teeth clamped down on my fingers.

“He's in a dump apartment building downtown on Hudson Street.”

“Text me the address, I'm going down there.”

“You want me to back you up?”

“No.”

“Nick.”

“I'll be fine, Ben. No backup, just me. I'll call you if I need you.”

Ben reluctantly agreed and hung up just as my son said, “Mama. Dada boo boo.”

I turned to see my wife plastering on a smile for my son's benefit. “You gave Daddy another boo boo?” she said, pretending to be angry.

“You snitch,” I said as he smiled wide and nodded his head enthusiastically. She picked up the last piece of his breakfast, tempting him, but pulling away each time he tried to take a bite. His giggles were infectious, causing me to laugh along with him.

That was until she said quietly, “Nick, please take Ben with you.”

“No, Angela. I need to go alone.”

“Why?” she challenged, leaning against the counter watching me clean Nicholas's face and hands before setting him down so he could play a bit before it was time to leave. I could feel her eyes boring holes through me as I washed my hands. Once I turned to face her, she looked completely lost.

“Please stay with us today.” Her glassy green eyes made it impossible to resist her, especially when I knew she was hurting. I needed to step back from FBI agent for a minute, and try to understand what my wife was feeling.

“Talk to me.”

“I'm scared to death, Nick. I can't lose you again. Before we reconnected, I decided that if you refused me and pushed me away, I'd leave you alone. If you had found happiness without me, then I'd let you go. I know now that was a complete and utter lie, because I can't live without you, and that scares me to death.”

I opened my arms, and she stepped into them. “You're not going to lose me.”

“You can't promise me that. Any day now you're going to go back to work, you're going to be putting yourself in danger every day, and this thing with David is just the tip of the iceberg. I'm not handling this well. The sister in me wants you to go find my brother. The wife in me wants you to quit your job and never leave my side.”

I tucked her hair behind her ear, taking a moment so I could choose my words wisely. “Baby, I'm an FBI agent. It's what I do, who I am. I understand your fears, but I can't enable them. Having said that, I have changed. My outer shell may still be the FBI agent I was before I found you again, but every cell beneath my skin has changed because of you. I will promise you that I'll always be careful. I have someone to come home to now, but I need to do my job. You need to let me do my job.”

Her arms circled my neck in a desperate hold. I let her cling to me, holding her just as tightly until a tiny hand patted my leg.

“Dada, up.” I released Angela to pick up our son. She turned her head away from his inquisitive eyes, quickly swiping away her tears. “Mama boo boo?”

“No, sweetie. Mama's okay.”

He looked at me for confirmation, which I did with a big wet sloppy kiss on his cheek. Through giggles and squirming, I knew I managed to distract him while looking at my wife and waiting for her to compose herself. She pulled herself together, forcing a smile for our son. “Ready to go see Miss Kellie?”

“Kell!”

“Will you come with us?” she asked hopefully.

“I gotta go, babe.”

“Okay.” She bobbed her head in a slow nod. “Come, little man,” she said to Nicholas, reaching for him. She got him ready for school as I unlocked my gun and holstered it at my waist. I slipped on my jacket before going in to say goodbye because the sight of my gun upset her, especially when the baby was around.

My amazing wife hid her inner turmoil, singing and laughing with our son as she dressed him for the day. I came up behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and looked over her shoulder. I placed my lips below her ear, sucking gently on her smooth silky skin. “I love you, Angela…more than you'll ever know.”

“Please be careful,” she said without turning to look at me.

“I will. I promise.”

“Please, just say you'll see us later, or say have a good day, dear. Just say something normal.”

“I'll pick up dinner on my way home.”

Her head fell forward with a sigh. “Thank you.”

I tightened my hold on her and buried my face in the curve of her neck. A tiny drop of moisture landed on my hand causing my heart to squeeze painfully in my chest.

For the first time in my professional career it had little to do with the adrenaline I felt before going out in the field. In fact, as I stood there with my entire world standing before me, I wasn't even thinking about my job. It was my wife and my son on my mind, and I needed to clear my thoughts of them. Distraction of any kind was a dangerous thing to bring with you when out on a job.

“Angela.” She twisted her neck to finally meet my eyes. Without a moment of hesitation, I crushed my lips against hers, trying in so many ways to comfort her even knowing I'd probably fail. Her lips submitted to mine, molded to mine, fused to mine in a way that sealed every emotion we shared. It wasn't a passionate kiss in any way, but rather a binding contract between us.

When I pulled away, her eyes remained closed for a few more seconds. Slowly, she opened them, locking our gazes. I quietly confirmed once again, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered with a short, quick nod. I raised my hand to wipe the tears that escaped before kissing each of her eyelids.

“I gotta go.”

“Say goodbye to Daddy,” she said brightly to Nicholas as she lifted him off the changing table. He stretched toward me, wanting to be held. Without taking him from her, I wrapped my arms around them both, offering a silent prayer to whoever was listening to keep them safe…especially if I couldn't.