Page 13 of Incoming Layne Shift

She furrowed her brows together wondering what other details needed to be ironed out that she must have overlooked.

“You’re not just running side jobs for Liam or your dad anymore. You’re running the whole damn show.” He set his jaw in a hard line as he thought about the harsh reality he was going have to admit to out loud. “That puts a massive target on your back. As much as it pisses me off to say it, even I have my limitations on what I can do to keep you protected. We need to consider seeking out someone who can professionally see to it that you’re safe when I’m not around.”

Her face fell at the thought of anyone other than Joey hovering over her every move. “And you’re going to trust another human being to do that?”

Now it was Joey’s turn to frown. “I didn’t say it was going to be easy finding someone, but it has to happen. I will check around and see if anyone is worth talking to about the job.”

Not being on board with this idea, Layne shook her head. “I have always been able to take care of myself. I’m not going to just trust some stranger breathing down my neck and hope that they have my back when it matters most.”

To prove a point, Joey knocked her feet out from underneath her while pushing her back. Instead of letting her back hit the floor, he caught her with his other arm. With his spare hand, he pointed his index and middle fingers at her forehead. “Bang.”

She tried to mask the surprise on her face as she stared up at him but her slightly wide eyes gave it away. Her hand pushed his fingers away that were aggressively pointed at her. “Are you planning on taking me out yourself? Playing the long game and finally finishing the job for Franzetti?” Layne narrowed her eyes at him.

He pulled her back upright onto her feet. “No, but it’s people like me that I’m worried about, Layne. Do you think they’re going to give a shit about where you are or who you’re with? You’d be lucky if all they do is fire a single round into you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I had the chance to put safety measures in place to prevent it.”

The stubborn side of her wanted to fight him on this and tell him he was wrong. She pressed her lips together ready to push back on the issue, but her phone began to ring in her pocket disrupting her from debating with him. “This conversation isn’t over yet.”

She stepped away from him as she pulled out her phone, and answered it. “Yes?” Layne stopped mid-step as the caller spoke in her ear. “What?” She was pretty sure she had to have heard the person on the other end of the line incorrectly. “Oh, for fucks sake. I will be right there. No, don’t do a damn thing.”

Layne pressed the red button on the screen to end the call. Returning her phone to her pocket, she balled her hands up into fists and pressed them to her forehead as she shut her eyes tightly. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs in frustration. Instead, she muttered, “I’m going to kill him.”

After approaching her, Joey lightly tugged on her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. “What is it?”

She opened her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. “Liam got his stupid ass arrested.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

For the sake of avoiding any unnecessary entanglements with Joey accompanying her to the police station, she left him behind while she handled this on her own. With Joey’s criminal record and history with the department, the last thing she needed was for them to receive any unwanted attention or harassment.

As for Layne, the only charge formally tied to her record was an old misdemeanor of public lewdness after a night of drunken debauchery on her twenty-first birthday. It resulted in a slap on the wrist and a wink in her father’s direction.

When she arrived at the 1st Precinct of the NYPD, there was a lot of foot traffic outside the primary entrance. A podium was set up and surrounding it were several officers in their blues, various media outlets with cameras and recorders, and what could only be assumed to be assistants, civilians, and other interested parties.

A woman with short ashy blonde hair that was a little too long to be considered a pixie cut, was standing at the podium. From the appearance of her dress blues decorated with extra stars and service stripes, it was the Chief of Department of the NYPD.

The woman’s voice carried a warm yet commanding tone. “Spearheading this new initiative, it is my honor to introduce you to New York’s newly appointed Police Commissioner, Vincent Saito.”

There was a round of applause from the surrounding crowd as a man in his late forties approached the podium in a navy suit, paired with an unoriginal white collared shirt underneath. His shiny black hair was just long enough to comb over to an off-center part. From the slight slant of his eyes and his skin tone, it appeared that he had a mix of both Asian and Caucasian heritages.

Everything about him was clean-cut and nearly too squeaky clean to be any sort of appointed official. This guy looked like he spent weekends coaching his kid’s soccer team, feeding the homeless, and honing his golf skills on a country club green.

He shook hands with the Chief, gave a sparkling smile to the people, and if there had been a baby present, he probably would have kissed it, too.

Stepping up onto the curb towards the back of the crowd, Layne paused and began to watch whatever bullshit this guy was about to spoon-feed everyone.

Commissioner Saito repositioned the microphone in front of him before resting his hands on the edges of the podium. “Thank you, Chief Graham. It is with great pleasure that I would like to announce this city’s greatest step towards cracking down on organized crime. With increased funding from an anonymous donor and partnership with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, I am proud to announce the Unwind and Un-organize Initiative.”

Layne raised a brow as she crossed her arms in front of her, her interest piqued. Every new commissioner that was appointed always rolled in with vows to do things differently. Each one of them ultimately just made a show out of their empty promises.

She listened intently to the man speaking to the masses about how he was going to crack down on organized crime in Manhattan. It was mostly the same shit she had heard before from law enforcement: more training, zero tolerance, and supposed accountability.

After the rundown of specifics on this new plan that was going to be implemented across the city over the next twelve months, Commissioner Saito began to take questions from overeager journalists.

One woman raised her hand high trying to capture the attention to be called on. When the Commissioner pointed at her, she gave a hopeful look and an excited smile. “Commissioner, as we all know, there is a concern about officers being swayed to look the other way and investigations being swept under the rug. Criminal behavior doesn’t just stop at the front door of the NYPD. How are you proposing to put an end to that?”

To his credit, the new guy on the block took a moment to look thoughtful before selecting a response from a likely preplanned list of answers. “We hold all our officers and detectives to a high standard of integrity. If there is any reason to believe that integrity has been compromised, I will personally ensure that those involved will be harshly reprimanded.” Yup, same old bullshit.

It would take time for any of this to get past all the red tape and bureaucracy, but Layne added the mental note to keep an eye out for any potential headaches this could all bring. It wasn’t just a worry for her but for all the rampant and corrupt underground criminal factions.

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