Crush(68)

Miles was shaking his head. “We talked about this. It makes no sense.”

“I agree,” Declan added.

“Okay, I agree too. So what next?”

Miles pointed at me. “You lay low. You’ve caused enough chaos on the streets. Playing off of the life-for-a-life thing, let me ask around and see if anyone of importance was one of the Blue Hill Gang’s victims. Coming from me, no one will question it. Coming from you, it might just get you killed.”

I conceded. He had a point. I had gotten in a little over my head. “What about O’Shea?” I asked.

“Seems clean. Can’t find anything linking him to his wife’s disappearance before her murder.”

“And Tommy? Any solid links to Lizzy or O’Shea?” I asked.

“Well, we know she worked at Lucy’s. As for Tommy’s claim that Lizzy and him were an item, nothing solid to prove that other than the tape where we saw them together at the hotel.”

Declan cleared his throat.

“You got something?” I asked him.

“Not much, but I talked to a few guys who’ve gone to Lucy’s for years. One remembers her from about two years ago. He said, and I quote, she was a chick who really knew how to suck his dick in the backroom. Another dude said he thinks he remembers seeing Tommy with her more than any of the other girls but when he paid her a hundred to blow him under the table, Tommy was cool with it. Anyway, if Tommy was tapping Lizzy, he didn’t mind her blowing others while he was hitting it.”

“Maybe they weren’t together. Maybe he lied,” I noted.

“Either way, he sounds like a real scum bag,” Miles remarked.

“Did either of the guys you talked to know O’Shea?” I asked Declan.

“Not sure; I didn’t ask. What are you thinking?”

“Maybe he had met Lizzy before he represented her on that pro-bono prostitution charge, like at a strip club, and that’s the connection between the three of them. I mean I’m really reaching here.”

“Like maybe at Lucy’s?”

I was leaning against the wall. “Exactly.”

“Let me check into it,” Miles said as he rose to his feet.

Declan was already in the doorway. “Let’s get together Tuesday and go through everything again. See if we can come up with anything new.”

“Sure. Let’s talk to Frank, too. He was around in the Dorchester Heights Gang days. Molly’s, Tuesday at seven?” I suggested.

“It’s a plan,” Declan said.

“Sounds good,” said Miles.

I followed the two of them out to the kitchen. After they left, I stood there for a bit, listening for ghosts.

None.

I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and took the newspaper clipping of Emily’s death I kept there from it. It was time to let that go. I crumpled it and threw it in the trash.

With a deep breath, I thought about whether I should be kicking a possible hornet’s nest. Tommy was gone and nothing around me showed signs of upheaval. Yet, there was something about O’Shea that had nagged me from the moment I laid eyes on him.

My gramps, too.

Blanchet aside, that was reason enough to dig further.

But not today.

Today was a day of celebration. With the threat of Tommy no longer hanging over us, it felt like a fresh start for Elle and me.

Hopping back in my truck, I decided to go to the bank and get that ring my gramps wanted me to have. I didn’t know when I’d give it to Elle, but I wanted to have it cleaned and sized so when the time was right, it would be ready.

I hightailed it back to Elle’s place first to get the key out of the silver box. I’d told Elle about the box but not the key. And like my grandfather, I didn’t go to much trouble to hide the box. It had always worked for him. While I was there, I picked up my shit that was all over her room. Elle had been cool about it, but it was time to get my laundry done. While I was at it, I also packed a few things for the weekend. I didn’t need much since we’d be staying at my apartment.

My apartment.

I needed to figure out what to do with it.

My current financial status dictated that I should sell it, which didn’t bother me. It wasn’t like I was attached to it or anything. It was nice, though. Located in a ritzy, white-glove building directly across the street from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, it was prime real estate. The problem was my grandfather owned the building and he had insisted that I live there, which meant I bought it for next to nothing. I wasn’t sure what he’d think about me selling it.

Then again, he was much cooler with the news of my leave of absence from the Ryan Corporation than I thought he would be. I think he was finally coming to understand I preferred working on my own. I have no idea what brought about his change of heart, but I accepted it at face value and figured it was time to terminate my employment now that I knew I’d be staying in Boston.

Although Elle and I really hadn’t discussed where I’d reside, I knew she wouldn’t leave Clementine, which meant either I moved to Boston or our relationship turned long distance. The thought of not seeing her every day twisted my gut and the answer to where I would live was an easy one—anywhere she was.

After I shoved everything in the back of the Rover, I jumped in and headed for the bank. The dark clouds had multiplied and there was no doubt rain was coming.