Page 100 of Perfect Vengeance

“I say you get him back.” Kinsey’s dark brows bobbed enthusiastically.

Anna grinned. “We’ll all help.”

Margo set her flute on the desk and rested her hands on Gina’s shoulders. “You’ll need a grand gesture.”

* * *

Jack threw down the pen, flexing his fingers before filling out the service portion of another arrest warrant. The cast had been removed, but his hand was stiff during a time when he needed it most. For typing reports.

He glared at the stack of case files on his desk that he swore had grown ten inches overnight. Red tape. The FBI was infamous for it, more so than any other law enforcement agency on the planet.

Taking a break, he leaned back in his chair, tracking Annie Oakley as she roamed slowly around the fish tank. Alone.

True to his word, Smitty had safeguarded John Wayne’s little body until Jack could give him a proper burial in his mother’s rose garden. He wondered if Annie missed JW.

He uttered a bitter laugh. Transference. He’d equated his own emotional state with that of a fish because…he missed Gina.

He’d just taken down an entire crime family, busted up the Mafia Commission meeting, making over twenty arrests of high-level mafioso for more outstanding charges than he could remember. Professionally, it was a monumental coup for him and the entire FBI. Personally, he no longer cared because he’d lost the most important battle of his life.

He dragged both hands down his face. The hole in his heart wasn’t healing. It had widened faster than a sinkhole. Truth was, he’d nearly gone to Gina’s apartment five times over the last month. It wasn’t his place to make a move like that.

Laughter came to his ears, followed by Deke’s painful rendition of “Jingle Bells.” His little brother never met a party he didn’t like.

“Hey, bro.” Deke poked his head in the door, a strand of silver garland strung around his neck and holding a mug of something Jack assumed was spiked with holiday cheer. “Brought you a gift.” He plunked the mug on the desk and sat on one corner. “Trust me. That’ll grow more hair on your chest.”

Jack peered at the mug, inspecting its contents. “Nancy’s homemade Irish cream?” One of the other agents made it every year for Christmas Eve.

“Yep.” Deke grinned. Clearly he’d already sucked some down.

SAC Morrison and Smitty joined them. Jack’s eyebrows rose at the ear-to-ear grin on his boss’s face. The success of Jack’s case would solidify his boss’s position on an even shorter list for FBI director.

“Hot off the press.” Smitty held up a newspaper and pointed to the headline about Franco’s indictment.

“Nice work, Jack.” Morrison held out his hand for him to shake. “I have to admit, you got it done.”

“Thanks, boss.” He took the newspaper from Smitty. Front and center was a photo of Jack hauling Franco to jail in cuffs. He should be fist-pumping, reveling in the accolades, but the victory was a hollow one.

Last night he’d returned Jim Spencer’s wedding ring to the man’s widow. With Tino dead and Franco facing hard time, at least justice would finally be served. For Spencer and his family. For Gina.

Despite the media coverage surrounding the Falzones, the Commission meeting had taken place. Though he was still a free man, with all the charges pending against the Falzone organization, Franco had been denied a seat at the meeting. For a while there, it seemed Franco would escape without prosecution. The evidence Jack needed had come from an unexpected source.

Meat, Jack’s informant, decided to testify against Franco in exchange for a brand-new life for him and his family in WITSEC. Meat hadn’t been in the garage to overhear Franco’s statements, but it turned out he had been there when Franco had shot Gina’s father. All this time, and Jack hadn’t known that. Ironically, Jack’s best informant was also one of Franco’s most trusted men. Given that Meat had nothing to gain and everything to lose—including his life—his eyewitness account had credibility. Combined with Gina’s witness statement, the prosecutor hadn’t hesitated to file charges against Franco. Given his age, Franco would never again see the light of day from outside of prison.

“Thanks to you, there’s chaos brewing in the Mafia.” Morrison made himself comfortable in a chair. “All the East Coast families are in total disarray.”

“For now.” He tossed the paper onto the desk. “Until the players change and new bosses are anointed.”

“Organized crime never ends,” Kyle said from where he now leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed. “It just keeps reorganizing. Consider it job security.”

Nancy poked her head in the office. “Kyle, that visitor you’ve been waiting for is here.”

“Thanks.” Kyle turned and left.

His brother must be pulling another all-nighter, something he noticed Kyle did a lot since transferring from Chicago.

The laughter and singing outside his office suddenly hushed.

Kyle reappeared with someone hovering off to the side, just outside the door. “Someone’s here to see you.”