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A second later she returns. “The doctor’s calling. Can I put you on hold?”
“Sure.” As I wait, I glance down at the incoming text.
O’Brien: Come to my office. Now.
By the time I turn right on Bay Parkway, my happy wife informs me Mikey’s going to be released.
We chat for a moment more and as we’re about to hang up, she adds, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Based on her past behavior, this leaves almost everything on the table.
“Copy that, sugar.”
Chapter 21
Sam
Suds crawls into bed long after midnight. Barely awake, I kiss his soft lips, spoon against him, and fall back asleep. In the morning, we’re late formass. Church over, surrounded by family, we stroll to Sunday brunch. With no privacy to discuss what was said at his meeting last night, I’m practically drooling to find out.
Now, in the dining room, my husband pouts because the sermon lasted less than five minutes. “The new priest has no imagination. He got to the point, then wham, blam, he’s done.”
After a tsk-tsk, I pat his head. “Not all men are born to ramble, honey.”
“Mebbe I willoffer to give him lessons?” The moment my spouse finishes his generous offer, everyone within listening distance shouts a resounding no.
“I’m only joshin’.” He takes another bite of Italian pastry, grins, and turns to Mikey. “Nothing beats ramblin’ though, right son?”
“Wight.” The boy’s high five is so fucking cute, my stupid hormones leak at the eyes.
After I find a tissue, Joey whispers in my ear. “Dad wants to talk to youz guyz, outside. Now.”
Leaving our kid surrounded by aunts, uncles, and many cousins, we follow Uncle Vinny’s oldest to a Lincoln Towne car, parked nearby. In the back seat, the old man pokes his head out the door, and waves us in. Once we’ve slid inside and closed off any prying eyes, Vincent hands me a piece of paper.
While I read, he pulls out his cigar and gestures with the glowing red tip. “The drones are in Jersey. Normally, this would be taken care of by me, but I hesitate to encroach on someone else’s turf, capiche?”
Leaning over, I kiss the mobster’s forehead. “No worries, Uncle Vinny, andthank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Go nail those dirty sons-of-bitches. Give them my kindest regards.” Interview over, he glances up at the rear-view mirror.
Immediately, his driver jumps out, runs around the back of the car, and takes my hand to help me exit the vehicle.
Back in the house, I ask my parents to babysit Mikey. As Suds calls Detective O’Brien, me and my partner rendezvous in the living room. Sitting on the sofa, I plug my uncle’s GPS coordinates into my map app.
After only a few minutes of research, I hold out my screen so my partner can read along. “The drones are on a container ship, scheduled to leave at noon.”
“Yeah, Colin said the same. He’s going to find a judge to issue a search warrant.” My hubby rolls his eyes, and I catch his drift.
“Seriously? On a Sunday? Not very likely. Don’t we wantthose Russians found and taken out?” My words may sound harsh for an FBI consultant, but sometimes a woman needs to take justice into her own hands, especially when her son becomes a target.
It doesn’t take long forSuds & Sam, Private Investigators, to make a plan and soon, we’re in our SUV, headed for New Jersey.
When we’re about to reach the tunnel entrance, Sebastian directs Slate’s incoming call to the SUV’s Bluetooth speaker. “The Feds need time to obtain a warrant, so Grayson pulled some strings with the harbor master. He’s agreed to slow the ship’s departure. I’m on my way. See you there.”
My husband speeds up but traffic is heavy. Over an hour later, we arrive at a diner where the team discusses their options. After we sit, I wave at Hands and Wheels. The secret mission they worked on either finished or got delayed. The fact Slate called them in, sends chills down my spine. He’s expecting trouble and called in the A Team.
The commander opens his tablet and swipes across the screen. “These two seamen are Russians. The rest onboard are innocent crew members.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Okay, we arrived late and it’s rude to ask, but I’m dying to learn how they intend to keep the ship from leaving the damn harbor.
