Body of Trust - Jeannine Colette Page 0,57
informant, or an agent.”
“He’s an agent,” Jesse answers evenly.
“How am I supposed to believe that?”
Jesse lifts a fist and shakes it in the air as his face scrunches in annoyance. This lack of control must be difficult for him, not having any way to explain himself because he can’t introduce me to anyone from his world.
“He’s one of three people who knows who I am. He followed me to the city. I can’t believe you saw us talking. I told him I needed to stay close in case you arrived. I knew I shouldn’t have been so careless.”
“That man in the jogging suit is your boss?”
“Yes. He was trying to stay in disguise.”
I fold my arms and back away. “I need more. For the first time, I’m going to ask you for more. You know I want to trust you, Jesse. And I do, but my heart is so wary these days, and I’m frightened. Please, give me something real to believe in.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine.”
“Fine?” I’m puzzled, to say the least.
“He assumed you’d ask.”
Jesse takes my hand and walks us through the Arms and Armor exhibit, past medieval art, and toward the entrance to leave. Museum workers remind us of closing time nearing, and we nod as if we’re aware and about to leave. When they walk away, we turn and enter the Thomas J. Watson Library.
My feet move quickly as I try to keep up with his long strides as he walks us through the open room, down a hallway, and into an office. He shuts the door behind us, and that’s when I notice a tall, thin man standing by the window.
I go to turn, but Jesse holds me and looks reassuringly into my distrusting eyes. “Amelia, this is Shane Salinger, director of criminal investigations at the FBI.”
The gentleman stands tall and extends a hand. I’m hesitant to shake it, which makes him lift his mouth to the side. He takes out a pair of sunglasses—the same pair I saw on the man earlier—and slides them on his nose. He’s not wearing the awful jogging suit or hat. Even if he were, I need to stop believing everyone at face value.
“Better?” he asks with a raspy voice.
I narrow my eyes. “A little.”
His chin rises, and he accepts my need for actual proof that he is who he says he is. He places a hand inside the breast pocket of his jacket and produces a thick black wallet. He flips it open and hands it to me.
I take it and examine the contents. A bright, gold shield is on the bottom with a signature card next to it. On top are the bold letters FBI on what appears to be an authentic license with Shane Salinger’s photo next to it.
I hand it back to him. “Okay, I believe you’re Jesse’s boss. What was so important that you needed to meet with him today?”
Salinger puts the wallet away. “First of all, how is your father?”
“He’s good.” I clear my throat. “The recovery won’t be easy. He thinks the bullet was a warning shot.”
He doesn’t seem surprised by this information. “We’ve been investigating Frank Evangelista and his cohorts for quite some time. By now, you understand that your father is the second in command of the Evangelista crime family. Their business dealings have crossed state lines into Connecticut and New Jersey, which is what made it a federal investigation. What we’ve learned over the past year has taken us beyond our original scope.”
I turn to Jesse, who gives a shallow nod, letting me know what Salinger is saying is good.
“Jesse has grown close to Frank, performing small-scale errands for him. One of those was a message to tell the Lugazzi family that they were pulling out of a deal to transport four hundred million dollars in cocaine. The clans of the Calabrian Mafia were teaming up with the Lugazzi Mafia family in New York to move drugs from South America to Calabria. Those drugs were now to be imported by ships carrying freight disguised as luxury handbags. When your father and Frank Evangelista pulled out on their part of the deal, it went south and we are now in possession of the drugs. We believe Carlo Lugazzi, in return for this betrayal, wants to make good on a plan that had been hatched years ago by all involved—to rig the New York Lottery.”
I grip Jesse’s arm. Salinger notices. I drop my hand and get Salinger’s attention.