Crash Into Me - L.A. Fiore Page 0,72

not, but he takes out his father, NYPD is going to be looking at you.”

“Yeah. I’m okay with that because they won’t find anything to link me to his death, and if it takes the heat off Gregory, so be it.”

“Keep in mind the man he’s looking to overthrow. He might be old, but he’s ruthless, and he won’t go down without a fight.”

“I know, and that’s why I need to talk to Gregory. He’s hated his father for most of his life, but the old man is one foot in the grave.” Carmine looked incredulous. “So why is he doing this shit now?”

Carmine drove to Brooklyn Heights. He didn’t need an appointment, family never did. He strolled through the elegantly appointed townhouse to the back veranda, where Gregory preferred spending his time. He never understood the gardens because Gregory wasn’t a flower kind of man, but his gardens were always perfectly tended and bursting with color.

The man himself was sitting on the patio, a glass of wine next to him, his focus on the horizon.

“What brings you here today, Carmine?”

Carmine joined him at the table and noticed he was holding something, but his focus shifted to the man. “Got a heads up.”

Gregory exhaled and looked tired, older than his fifty-nine years. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Carmine sat up because that was not a question he’d expect from the man he knew. “What’s going on?”

Gregory shook his head and instead asked, “What brings you?”

“The cops are putting the pieces together.”

Gregory reached for his wine. “Let me guess, I’m looking to take over so am creating an environment that makes it possible.”

“Something like that.”

“I’m not the one stirring it up. He is.”

Carmine didn’t hide his surprise. “Why?”

“Because he’s dying and he can. Because he’s belligerent and vindictive.”

“I need more, Gregory. My boy’s girl is right in the middle of this shit.”

“I heard about that. She’s the one looking into Katrina Dent’s death.” Gregory said, took a sip of wine. “She’s close to figuring it out, too, from what I hear.”

“What doesn’t she know?” Carmine asked.

Gregory put his glass down, stood. Even at fifty-nine, he could turn women’s heads, with his dark blue eyes and tall muscled build. “Walk with me.”

Carmine fell into step at his side.

“My father wanted in on the Hollywood scene, and so he found the perfect way in, a young, beautiful woman who held that magical appeal like a modern version of Marilyn Monroe. She was often compared to her. I remember the first time I saw her. I was twenty-two, a year older than she was, but she seemed so much younger. She had hope then, still had an idealistic view of the world. He sent me to keep an eye on his project. I hadn’t meant to fall in love, but I did.”

Carmine stopped walking; Gregory looked back at him. “Yes, Katrina and I were lovers. From almost the minute she was unveiled. She hated it, but she knew her parents were in a bind. And she was the kind of woman who would do for others, much like your friend’s girl, putting her neck out to help known criminals.” He opened his palm to reveal the small gold coin. “She gave me this. Her marker,” he said and smiled. “Her promise that her future belonged to me and mine to her.” The smile fell from his lips. “She got pregnant. I was taking her away, to hell with my father and the fact that I’d be putting a target on both of our backs. The woman I loved was carrying my child. But my father had friends everywhere. He found out, beat me to an inch of my life and took her baby. She went through that alone because I couldn’t get to her. She lost her baby and me. And still she tried to do for others, but her heart wasn’t in it anymore. She wasn’t Katrina Dent, the superstar. He broke her. I broke her. But it still wasn’t enough for my father. She was an asset, one that wasn’t turning enough of a profit, one that would be more valuable dead, so he had her killed.”

Gregory fisted his hands, his face going hard. “I tried to find Jason to repay the kindness, but he always was a weasel, had an uncanny ability of shifting to be whatever was needed of him. I never did find him, and I fucking looked.”

“And the baby?”

“A son.” Pride filled his voice. He gestured to the gardens.

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