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“What did you have to show me?” she asked.
“This.” I pulled it up on my phone and handed it to her, watching her face as she scrolled down.
“What am I looking at?” she asked.
“That is the transcript from the chief of the FBI bugged on record,” I said. “And he admits to being in cahoots with about half the gangs in the city, including the Moranos.”
She glanced up in disbelief.
“You can listen to the recording if you want. It’s legit.”
“How do you have this?” she demanded.
“I know how to get information. Especially on the FBI.” I shrugged. “This is only a small part of what I’ve collected on them for years as insurance. The things I know. Why do you think they want me gone so bad?”
“How did you get this?” she asked again.
“That’s not important,” I said. “The point is that I do have it, and you have to understand what the video represents. There are a few families the police collaborate with in terms of crime. And the Moranos are one of them. Right now, they’re protecting you because I’m the bigger fish to catch. But the second they catch me, do you think they won’t give the Moranos exactly what they want?”
She shook her head. “They can’t do that.”
“Yes, because the cops are completely above board and are not known to do shady things at all. Right.”
Even she didn’t buy that. She looked away from me.
“Angel would never allow that to happen,” she said, and I knew exactly who she was talking about.
For some reason, the mention of her boyfriend made me immeasurably irritated. “Do you think it’s a coincidence the Moranos waited this long to have a problem with the fact that you stole from them? Or did you think your dear Angel didn’t know about your past with them?”
Her eyes widened. I could tell that the idea had never occurred to her, and she paled as the implication started to hit her.
“Your boyfriend was probably the one who sold you out,” I told her. “Maybe that’s why he approached you in the first place. To use you as a tool to spy on me.”
“He wouldn’t—” she said a tad loudly. “He didn’t even know about you.”
“Are you sure about that? You never told him about your dad?”
“No, I—” Then, realization struck. “The picture book.”
“What?”
“My dad sent me a picture book,” she said. “It was one of the only things he ever sent me. It was of the summer I spent here, and there were pictures of him there. And you, too, maybe.”
I nodded. I remembered Dom saying he wanted to make a scrapbook for his daughter, and we did have some pictures together. “And your boyfriend saw the book?”
She frowned, still in doubt. “I think so.”
Ah. So that was how he knew. I only said it based on a hunch, but now she saw I was right.
Just then, we were interrupted once again by the waitress who brought us our burgers.
“Thanks, beautiful,” I said, winking at her, and she blushed again as she walked away. Emily rolled her eyes.
“Something wrong?” I asked her again, and she shook her head.
“Just not hungry,” she said as she pushed her burger away.
“You sure?” I asked. “Your stomach was growling earlier, and they have incredible burgers here.” Just the smell was making me ravenous.
