She didn't know her father very well, after all.
Her earnest feelings killed the rage I was feeling at her defiance. They made me see things from her eyes. It was obvious that she was hurting. That she was scared. I knew that. I had to respect it.
"You're right. This is very important to you. But it is also very dangerous, so you need to take precautions tomorrow. Do you understand?"
"We're meeting-" I held up a hand and stopped her.
"Don't tell me. Don't tell me anything. I can't know any of the details. I can't know anything about it. If they question me I have to be able to tell them the truth, do you understand? Right now, the truth is that Michael contacted you, and I sent him away. It was stupid. I'll probably get a beating, but I won't get killed. They'll track him down and kill him. That's all I know, and that's all I can know. Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"Good, now let's talk about this dinner of yours. I'm starving."
Chapter Ten
Kathryn
Maria's Bakery. I stared up at it, taking in the sight of it. Little Italy was so close to all of the nice neighborhoods like the Fells Point and Inner Harbor, but there was still a seediness about it that made you want to clutch your purse.
The bakery was the perfect example of that.
It was housed in a stucco building that looked like it needed some work, and it stood out on the corner with a gorgeous mural on the side wall. A woman pulling bread from a brick oven with black hair and a gorgeous smile on her lips. It was the perfect mix of beautiful and sad, especially with the peeling stucco on the edges.
Breathtaking. That was the only way to describe it. It made me want to write an inspired piece for my Violin.
I really missed playing with other people. I'd been practicing alone since I got home from Chicago, but this was the first time I felt inspired.
It was part of what I missed about this city when I was in Chicago. Sure, Chicago had its things, too, but Baltimore was my home. I would never understand the nuances of anywhere else the way I did Baltimore. The hope and desperation. The dark seedy sadness mixed with light and love. It was my city.
And I missed it.
Even if I wanted to deny it, this city would always be my home.
I walked into the little bakery and looked around, searching for the man on the phone. It wasn't until I saw him in the back corner that I gasped.
It wasn't just any contact. It was Michael.
He'd been the federal agent the whole time?
I walked towards the back, my eyebrows furrowed.
"Were you followed?" he asked.
"No." Janson had explained in detail before he left for work just how to spot a tail and avoid one. He had been very thorough, but no one even knew I was in town except his people.
No one followed me.
"I can't believe it's you." I shook my head. How could he? Why didn't he just tell me? So many questions rolled around in my head.
"Well, who else would it be?" he asked. "I wouldn't trust you to anyone else in the bureau."
He looked like a different man with the well-tailored suit and the orange tie to match his pocket square. He held himself differently, though, with more confidence.
"How long have you been working for the FBI?" I asked. I wanted to know how long he'd been betraying my family. What his plans were. I wanted to know exactly who he was.
"We didn't come here to talk about that," he said. He was deflecting, but I wouldn't have it.
"How long?" I asked. I was curious, but I needed him to give me something. Some kind of information that I could use against him if I needed to.
"Since I graduated college. So about ten years. Been with the family for nine," he answered. That was a long ass time. He'd always wanted to betray the family. That had been his goal from the start. So why act now?
"And you aren't from Pittsburgh?" I asked. "Is anything you've told us true?"
"Oh, I am. It's all true. But I've wanted revenge for a long time, Kathryn. Since I was a teenager." He bent his head. "Your family, the family in Pittsburgh. They've all done things that deserve it. You saw your uncle killed. For me, it was my brother."
I could see the truth in his eyes and I wanted to sympathize with him. Hell, I did.
I was sure I was doing the right thing.
"And you won't implicate Janson or Greyson?" I asked.
"The two of them run things with purpose. I know if they had the chance, they would go legitimate. I'm not after them. The organization is not after them. They want James Fitzgerald and Michael Mactavish," Michael confirmed. "I've already negotiated with them for that."
"What do you need me to do?" I asked.
"We need more evidence."
"I cannot testify. If I did I would be as good as-"
"Dead. I know. That's why we need you to do something else for us."
"What?"
Find out where the evidence is. We can schedule a raid at the exact right time if you do. It will be dangerous and it'll take some time, but if you do that, we won't need you to testify."
"That means I have to go home."
He nodded. "It means you'll have to eat crow to your father and act as though you are the good girl he wants you to be. Do you think you can do it?" he asked.
I didn't know if I could, to be honest. But I had to try. "When?" I asked.
"Not yet. I'll let you know when."
"What kind of evidence am I looking for?" I asked.
"Anything that would connect him to embezzlement, or murder. Anything that would put him away," he explained.
I nodded. It was a fucking lot to ask and we both knew it. But I'd signed up for it. I wanted to make sure that I was the deciding factor in my own future.
A future without James Fitzgerald.
Janson
"Where have you been?" Michael Mactavish sat across from me, staring at me with a smirk on his face. The kind that let me know he had a theory and no matter what I said, it would be wrong.
My father was always like that. Ever since I was a teen. I could tell him I was at the library studying with Greyson all night, and it didn't matter if it was the truth. He wouldn't believe it. He was sure I'd been out partying all night and would accept no other answer.
Because it was what he wanted to hear.
"On a business trip." It was the truth. I was on business doing what Greyson wanted.
"For Greyson?" he asked. "His own business, or family business?"
"Yes," I said. "A little bit of both."
I wasn't going to lie to him, but I wasn't going to tell him the details either. He'd already formed ideas in his mind about what I was doing and how I was doing it. There was no use in trying to argue the point.
"So your boy has you running all over town, and you don't even check in with me?" Ah, there it was, the anger and snark I'd come to expect from him.
"You told me that he was my very first priority, Father. That my job was to fulfill my duties as second in command."
Always Father.
Never Dad.
That was the way our relationship worked. That was the truth of what was between us. It was thinly veiled contention. Hate that started the moment my mother died, leaving him with the burden of me to raise. He'd never gotten over it. Over her. And he never stopped blaming me.
I had nothing to do with her aneurysm. It was a medical mystery, but it didn't matter. In his eyes, I might as well have caused it.
We'd never love each other. Never actually respected one another.
We both knew it.
"You did your duty. But you could've let me know. I had a lot of work for you and I had to find someone else."
"Did you? Find someone else?" I asked, my lips pursed. I didn't want to do his damn dirty work.
"For some of the things. But I have a list of work for you." He slid a laundry list of shit over to me. No doubt it was people that he and James thought deserved a lesson.
My hands were itching to pummel someone, but that wasn't who I wanted to be.
I needed to be someone better. Something more. But this was my life. At least until he was gone. I'd been hoping for so long that something would happen, but I always thought it would be murder. Most men don't stay at the top until they retire. No, they go out by nefarious hands.
I just hoped it would be sooner rather than later.
I never expected it to be part of my own scheming. It almost made me feel dirty. Until I looked into his eyes. Then I felt totally vindicated.
"Anything else you need?" I asked.
"Yeah. I need to know what your deal is." He flicked his cigar into the ashtray and then looked up at me with new eyes.
"Excuse me?" I asked.