Jamie Hill Triple Threat (51 page)

"Oh."
Devon
appeared confused.

Gina felt sorry for him. "It's a silly name for the bathroom, I agree. Do you think you could show me where it is?"

"Sure!"
Devon
reached for her hand and the door at the same time.

Gina glanced at Jack. "If that's all right with you."

"Knock yourself out," he told her, smiling coolly.

Gina thought she might be sick.

* * * *

Dinner conversation was pleasant with everyone chattering around the table, and Gina had to admit the food was good. But she'd lost her joy and could only think about what—and when—to tell Brady. It needed to be soon. Jack didn't seem the type to sit on what he knew for long.

She breathed a sigh of relief when they said their goodnights and headed to Brady's Explorer. He opened the door for her and went around to his side. As he climbed in he told her, "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have gone to play ball with the boys so soon after we got there. It's just something they like to do when I come over."

"I didn't mind," she said truthfully.

He took her hand. "You didn't seem to be enjoying yourself as much when I came back. I'm really sorry, Gina."

"It's not that. Could you just take me home, please? We need to talk."

He started the car. "Not sure I like the sounds of that."

"Drive," she snapped, in no mood for joking around.

He picked up on that and didn't say a word on the fifteen minute drive across town.

When he parked, she didn't wait for him to open her door, just hopped out and hurried inside, Brady on her heels.

"What's up with you?" He locked the apartment door behind him.

"We need to talk, and I have to do it now or I'll lose my nerve."

He tossed his keys on the coffee table and took a seat on the sofa. "I'm listening."

Gina sat on the edge of the chair across from him. "Something happened tonight, something I never expected in a million years. As soon as we were alone, Jack told me he recognized me. From my younger days, you know when I was using."

Brady's mind seemed to process the information. He spoke slowly.
"Recognized you?
What did he mean? Were you a stripper or something you never told me about?"

"No!" she insisted then wondered if that would have been preferable to the truth. "My friends and I got in some trouble with the police one night. It was really cold outside, and we found this dead guy on a bench in the park. We checked his pockets to see if he had any money."

"You rolled a bumsicle?" Brady asked with disbelief. "If he had any fucking money, do you think he'd have been out there in that kind of weather?"

"Of course not! Obviously, we weren't thinking clearly. It was an awful thing to do, I know that now. At the time, it all seemed surreal. My father came to the jail and got me out before anything happened. I never heard any more about it. I'd actually forgotten about it, to be quite honest."

"Jack was working that night?" Brady shook his head. "What fucking dumb luck. He was a pretty intense cop. Took shit like that seriously. I'd imagine he hated it when your old man showed up to bail you out."

"That's what he told me. He also said he understood that the past was the past. Said he had a few things he'd rather not remember, himself. But he couldn't forget who my father was."

Brady looked surprised. "Your father? What the devil are you talking about?"

Gina took a deep breath and exhaled. "This is where it gets hairy. I never told you my real name, Brady, because I thought I'd put that life behind me. I found out tonight, you can never escape the past completely. Someday, somewhere, a person is going to show up and recognize you. Blow you out of the water. That's what happened to me. Jack instructed me to tell you the truth, or he said he'd do it."

Brady frowned. "Oh really? Where does he get off talking to you like that?"

She offered him a small smile. "I called him a bastard. He said he was your friend."

He seemed to remember the point and got back to it. "What's this about, Gina? What's your real name? Who the hell are you?"

"Genevesia Moretti. My father is Victor Moretti."

Brady appeared as if he'd been shot. His face paled and he clutched the arm of the sofa until his fingertips turned white. "Victor Moretti? The export guy?"

She nodded. "He started East Asian Imports many years ago. He's a good, solid member of the
Wichita
business community. People have tried to hang things on him, but he's innocent. He's always been proven
not
guilty."

Brady shook his head. "Oh, please! I read the file on him. There's a difference between innocent and not guilty, Gina. Even your father knows that."

She screwed up her courage and stuck to her guns. "My father is a good man. He has no convictions on his record. He donates an insane amount of money to the church. He lunches with the bishop and plays golf with the mayor."

"Remind me why you changed your name, please?"

"He insisted I do that. He was trying to give me another start in life. A history with no drugs or rehab involved."

"Oh, so that decision had nothing to do with the whole Italian mafia thing? Tell me, Gina, you mentioned you have a brother. Does he have a history of drug use as well?"

"No! Danny's been clean his whole life."

"Good man. So what's his name? Danny Moretti?"

Guilt welled inside her as she understood Brady's point. Her father had insisted she change her name to distance herself from
him
, not the drugs. "He changed his name, too. He goes by Tony Moreno."

Brady hopped to his feet. "Anthony Moreno is your brother? The CEO of East Asian Imports? Mr. Lack-of-personality, is your brother?"

She nodded. "Danny runs the company. He kept Gordano as his middle name to explain why some people, mostly family and childhood friends still call him Danny. Have you met him?"

"I've been working this case for months. Of course I've fucking met him. He's rude, uncooperative, and a liar. I'd say that makes him guilty as hell."

She stood to face him. "And I'd say you're suddenly prejudiced against the Moretti family. Maybe you should request a transfer off this case, Detective. I'm not sure you can be partial anymore."

He gritted his teeth. "No one ever said cops had to be partial. Quite the opposite, in fact. I know a guilty fucker when I see one. Maybe more than one."

"We've said enough for one night. You should go home and sleep on this. You're blowing it all out of proportion."

"You really think I'm going to get any sleep tonight?" he scoffed. "The person I love tells me she's not really who I think she is. Nope, she's the daughter of a mobster I've been tracking. But it's no big deal, right?"

"My father is not a mobster," she replied in steely tones.

"Says the woman who went through college whacked out on whatever drug she could get her hands on, while her father followed along behind and tidied up after her."

Gina bit her lip. "Now you're just being cruel. Go home, Brady. We can talk about this later."

He threw his hands in the air. "What the fuck is there to talk about? You lied to me,
Genevesia.
If we don't have honesty, we don't have anything." He snatched his keys and stormed out the door.

Gina dropped back into her chair. Pussy Galore hopped on her lap and nuzzled her arm, seeking attention. Gina cradled the cat and buried her face in soft fur. "Oh, my God," she repeated over and over again, until the tears came.

* * * *

Brady drove past Jack's house but all the lights were out. He'd been driving aimlessly for an hour, and now realized it was almost midnight. He stared at the darkened house for a moment, then turned his car around and headed home.

Probably a good thing it's so late
. He wasn't sure if he wanted to punch Jack in the nose or cry on his shoulder. It really wasn't his friend's fault, but at the moment Brady wasn't feeling particularly rational.

A few beers and a pack of smokes later, the sun was coming up. He hadn't slept and didn't feel the least bit tired.
Sad. Really sad
. And pissed, though he still hadn't figured out exactly who he was angry at.

When his phone rang, Brady didn't rush to answer it. Guilt finally got the better of him and he checked the screen in case it was the department calling. It was Gina. He let the call go to voicemail, but she didn't leave a message.

Jack called next, but Brady didn't answer. Jack left a quasi-cheery sounding message about touching base but Brady could tell he was fishing for information. Brady was still pondering the situation, and wasn't ready to talk yet.

By that evening, Gina and Jack had both phoned a total of three times each. Brady was fixing himself a sandwich when his doorbell sounded. His heart skipped a beat.
I really do not want to see Gina.
His emotions were still jumbled. The urge to slap her wrestled with the urge to kiss her, and he couldn't do either. He'd never hit her, no matter how angry he got, but he was less clear on the kissing.

He peered through the peephole in his front door and saw Jack with a six-pack of beer in his hand. Brady unlocked the door and opened it. "Just what I need, more beer."

Jack smiled and stepped inside. "Had a few already, have you?"

"A couple." He returned to the kitchen. "I'm making a ham and cheese. Want one?"

"Sure." Jack sat at the counter and popped open a can. "Been trying to call you today."

"Not taking calls." Brady kept his eyes focused on the sandwiches he was preparing.

"You and Gina talk about anything last night?"

"That's why I'm not taking calls." Brady shoved one plate in front of Jack and picked up the other, leaning back against the opposite counter. He caught Jack's eyes. "But I'm sure you figured that out."

"I'm sorry, man. I was as surprised as she was. I debated saying anything, and if it hadn't been for your case, I probably wouldn't have."

"I know." Brady ate his sandwich thoughtfully, still mulling over repercussions in his mind.

Jack took a few bites and finally said, "
Crystal
's pissed at me. She liked Gina. Thought she was the perfect match for you."

Brady's eyes flashed. "You mean
Genevesia?
Yeah, well, I thought so, too. You know how long I've been alone. Since my mom died, it's been me against the world. I played the field, made it looked like I was having a hell of a time, living the good life and all that. But at the end of the day, it always came back to me being alone.

"Gina's the first person who's ever made me think about changing that. Hell, we didn't even—" he paused and took another bite of his sandwich. Jack knew they hadn't slept together right away. The relationship felt too important to Brady to do that.

"I gotcha." Jack nodded. "Brady, listen. You needed to know her real identity. What you choose to do with that information, is up to you. If you're okay with it, then I will be, too. I think Gina's a cute kid and she seems to have turned her life around."

"Of course, I'm not
okay
with it!" Brady stormed. "She lied to me! I went home every night, told her all about my day, and she just sat there and listened. Soaked it all in. God knows what she did with that information—told her father, told her brother, told the fucking postman for all I know. No matter what she calls herself she's a Moretti, and I'm pretty fucking sure, in an Italian family, blood is thicker than water."

"You really don't believe she was spying on you." Jack finished his sandwich and pushed the plate away.

"I don't know what to believe anymore. All I can go on, right now, are facts. She lied to me. Her brother, the CEO of East Asian Imports, lied to me. And their father Victor is
not
stricken with Alzheimer's like I was led to believe, so I choose to think that old fucker lied to me, too." He set his plate in the sink and looked at Jack. "With that many people lying, I think East Asian Imports deserves a closer look, don't you?"

"Absolutely. Just be careful. Those guys play for big stakes, and they only play to win."

"I know." Brady nodded, more determined than ever to solve the case.

"Thanks for the sandwich. I just wanted to check on you, make sure you weren't going to punch me or anything like that."

"I thought about it," Brady admitted. "Then I figured that's like shooting the messenger. It's not your fault. Thanks for watching out for me, man."

"Anytime." Jack headed for the front door but paused and looked back one last time. "Oh, and Brady? You're not alone, you know. You never have been." Jack winked.

Brady could only nod and watch his friend go. If he tried to talk, his voice probably would have squeaked. He tamped down the emotion of the past twenty-four hours while cleaning up his kitchen and locking the house. He finally thought he could sleep.
Tomorrow's another day.
A
big
day. He and Costa were going to begin kicking ass from one end of East Asian Imports to the other.