"And what if one of the other girls tells the truth about the penthouse? Says Zell shot Madam and Jackie killed Frank?"
"Why would they?" I questioned. "They know who the good guys are and who the bad guys were."
"And the cameras?"
"I'm going to the penthouse after we stage the house, and I'm taking every camera down and taking the hard drive with me. Everything will be okay for us, I promise."
After breakfast and another round of rolling in the sheets, I called Frankie to tell him we were ready.
I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.
* * *
We took the ladies and Martin to Saffron's house thirteen miles outside of Manhattan on the Hudson River. I only knew about the mansion because I’d had to drive Saffron there several times so she could make sure it was still standing or whatever. I'd asked her one time why she never sold it, and she explained that it was the house she had shared with her deceased husband. I got the impression that she didn't want to sell it because it was a reminder of him, but she couldn't live there for the same reason. Or maybe Frank wouldn't let her live there because the women had to be watched by someone he could fully trust. How ironic that the house she clung to was on the same river that became her final resting place.
Frankie and I staged it, making it look trashed and putting bullet holes in the living room walls. "Everything is going to be okay," I said to Erin as I wrapped my arms around her outside the mansion.
She nodded against my chest. "I know. It's all surreal, you know?"
"I know." I sighed. "But just know, I'll be waiting. I'm not going anywhere. I want you to call me when you can, okay?"
"I will."
Erin and I kissed, and then Frankie and I left and headed to the penthouse to get rid of the cameras and all other evidence. I had to hope that everything went smoothly. I knew once the women went to the police, an investigation would be opened, and the authorities would be on the hunt for Frank and Saffron. But hopefully they’d assume that Frank and Saffron went to Canada to hide out once they’d realized the women had escaped.
I had to put all of it behind me. I was never there, never in the penthouse, and never knew Saffron Russo. The only tie I had to Frank was that ten years ago, I had worked at Lock. I couldn't remember if my employment there had ever been documented or not. I knew my work outside of Lock was under the table, the same way I was paid at Lock.
After I dropped Frankie off at his apartment, my phone started to ring. I pulled it out of my pocket, realizing Cole was calling me through the social media app. I thought he would give me his guy's contact number since I hadn’t given him my number. Apparently, he worked around that, and now it didn't matter.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Hey, man. My guy needs your number to give to his FBI guy."
I rubbed the back of my neck, as I sat in the car still parked at the curb. "Actually, I'm straight."
"What happened?"
"Everything's good now," I half-lied.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Things have a way of working themselves out."
"That they do. Everything else okay?"
"For the most part. I'm on the hunt for a new job," I disclosed.
"Where are you living now?" Cole asked.
"Long Island."
"Well, I have one for you, but it's either in Virginia or California."
I tilted my head slightly. "California?"
"Yeah, in L.A."
"I was actually thinking about moving to California," I admitted.
