NYPD Red 2(65)

“Enzo died. That’s who died. I’ve been waiting twelve years for payback, and now I’m going to get it.”

“You going to take on the police department?” he said. “You going to go whack a cop?”

“Two cops,” Teresa told him. “The other one whose name was in Enzo’s collection book. The friend Dave. You always said it would take more than one to kill Enzo. You thought it was the blacks from Ozone Park, but it was those Mick bastards.”

She gulped down half the wine in her glass. “Those people were our neighbors. We threw parties for them. We fed them. And this is how they show their respect? We welcomed them with open arms, and they turned around and stabbed us in the heart. Judas has been sitting at our table, Joe. Judas.”

Salvi held up a hand. He hadn’t seen her this bad since Enzo’s funeral. “All right, Teresa, enough. I’ll handle it.”

“When?”

He stood up. “Now. I have a lieutenant who owes me a favor. He’ll find out where these two cops work.”

“And then what?”

“How should I know? Let me find them first. Give me some room to think.”

“Don’t think. Act. If not for me, then do it for your mother. Remember what she promised Enzo when she threw herself on his casket. La famiglia fornirà giustizia. An eye for an eye.”

She lurched toward the counter, grabbed the bottle, and staggered out of the room.

Salvi took out his cell phone and called Bernice. “I’m coming over,” he said.

That was all he had to say. He hung up and went to the closet for a coat.

Bernice worked for his accountant. Forty years old and never been married. Not pretty. Just a nice quiet Jewish girl who turned out to be a tigress in the sack. They’d been at it for seven years, and the woman never asked for anything. He gave her gifts, and she would say, “Thank you, Joe. You really shouldn’t have.” But there were no demands.

The sex was incredible. And on top of it all, she was a damn good cook.

Mama would have hated her.

She wasn’t Catholic.





Chapter 62



Kylie has always had a knack for infuriating me. Tonight was no exception. Twenty minutes had passed since she’d yelled “I’ll be back in five” and bolted out the door to talk to Matt Smith. No explanation. No invitation for me to come along. Just her signature I’m-in-charge-you-wait-here-for-further-instructions attitude.

I was working up a seriously unhealthy resentment when my cell rang. It was Cheryl. My slow burn dissolved into a warm glow, and I picked up the phone.

“Hey,” I said, “you’re not only beautiful and intelligent, you’re also clairvoyant. How did you know I was in desperate need of a shrink?”

“And how did you know I was in desperate need of someone to tell me I was beautiful and intelligent? In real life, I’m sprawled on the sofa in my sweats, drinking wine, munching popcorn, about to subject my superior intellect to a movie I’ve already seen seven times.”

“Pretty Woman with Richard Gere and Julia Roberts?”

“You know me well, Zachary. So why do you need a shrink?”

“Because I’m sitting here gathering dust while Wonder Woman toddles off to solve the biggest case of my career on her own.”

“It’s a tough time for Kylie,” Cheryl said. “From what you’ve told me, her personal life is off the rails. Her job is the one thing she can control.”

“Great. Except that her job is my job. I’m her partner.”

“Then cut her some slack, partner.”

“Is that your professional take on it? You want me to cut her some slack? I thought you’d be on my side.”

“Professionals don’t take sides. Come on, Zach—you’ve had some rough patches, and Kylie has always been there for you. Don’t take it personally—she’s not trying to cut you out. Diving into work helps distract her from her problem with Spence. Eventually, they’ll iron it out, and you two will find your balance again.”

“What am I supposed to do until then?”

“In the words of my illustrious colleague,” she said, “suck it up, dude.”

“And who said that? Dr. Freud?”

“Dr. Phil.”

“Okay, you’ve successfully restored my mental health,” I said. “Enjoy your wine, your popcorn, and your girlie movie. It sounds like you’ve planned an evening to remember.”

“It’s only missing one thing,” she said seductively.

Now I really felt restored. “Me?”

“Actually, I was thinking Richard Gere to take me shopping on Rodeo Drive, but sure—you’ll do. Are you available?”