“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”
I get into the car, shutting the door, the interior falling into that familiar, insulated quiet. Fadden does as well. I still can’t shake that feeling. It almost felt like Matteo Vitale was near. Like I could feel his intense eyes on me.
I am officially going crazy.
Trying my best to brush it off, I start the engine of the car, pulling out into traffic. Like he can tell something’s wrong, Fadden doesn’t say anything until we’re at the café. We step out of the car and are walking toward the door when he speaks.
“Are you on edge because you’re worried about Bratva retaliation?” he asks, gaze fixed on mine.
I chew on the inside of my lip, “No.”
“Well you should be,” he corrects. “I’m surprised you don’t have any protection. You’re rich, Ms. Beaumont. Get yourself a couple of bodyguards. This isn’t the Little League, and these people you’re going after are dangerous.”
I feel a bright spark of irritation at his tone and his words. I’ve had enough of these men telling me that I can’t handle myself.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I tell him, my voice hard and resolute.
“Alright,” he says on a smile. “You’re confident. I like it.”
“Let’s just go talk about our game plan.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We head into the café and after ordering our drinks, we take our seats. The farthest one from all the other patrons, right by the window. Since he’s more acquainted with the case, Fadden starts.
“You already went through the case file, right?”
I nod.
“Good. So you know who the big players are,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee before speaking again, “The Volkovs are in charge of the Russian mafia in this city. The big guys. And the head of the family, the Pakhan as they call him, is Maksim Volkov. He’s an old man who hasn’t been seen in a couple of months. Some say he’s sick and dying, others say his absence is strategic. In the time he’s been absent, though, his lieutenants have run wild all over the city. There have been several slip-ups, which is why this is the best time to strike. The Russians are the weakest crime syndicate in this city. They’re the easiest to get rid of.”
I take all that in quietly, turning it over in my mind.
“I’ve had some interaction with the Russians. Not personal, but someone sabotaged me and fed me wrong information. I don’t know if he is someone within their ranks, or someone on the outside who intentionally did it. But it almost cost the life of someone I cared about. They would have killed this person.”
Anger still burns through my skin at the thought of that incident involving Valentina. I failed her.
“Yeah, they’re pretty cold-blooded.” Fadden smirks. “Which is to be expected considering their roots. While this branch of the Bratva primarily does their business in Jersey, there’s an even bigger overarching control unit back in Russia. But we don’t need to worry too much about that. We just need to get them out of our city. So talk to me about the case. Why RICO?”
“Because a murder charge puts one man in prison.” I slide the file across the desk. “RICO wipes the bloodline off the board.”
I shift in my seat before continuing. “A RICO case isn’t about one crime. It’s about proving an ongoing crime enterprise through a pattern of racketeering activity. This means we need at least two predicate crimes. No judge will sign of arrests without enough evidence of drug trafficking, weapons smuggling, moneylaundering, and murder. All things the mafia is famous for, of course. Our job is to first find proof of that.”
“Which you’ve already got from the file the agent handed to you,” he points out.
“Yes,” I mutter, annoyed at the interruption. “But evidence is only one aspect. We need an insider. Someone willing to take an offer for protection or a reduced sentence. Someone willing to provide us with locations when it’s time to make arrests.”
“I can get someone like that,” Fadden says casually.
My eyes widen. “Seriously? Within the Volkov family?”
“As I said, since the Pakhan’s absence, there’s been some unrest. I’ve been working on flipping a guy within for a couple of months now. He’s close to breaking, and when he’s does, he can provide us with all we need. He just needs a push.”
“Which is what?”
He shrugs. “A belief that the cause he’s fighting for isn’t worth it anymore. True evidence of collapse.”
My face falls. “We can’t guarantee that.”
