Page 1 of Mob Saint

Chapter One

Seamus

I twist my seat to look at my brother as we wait for the prosecution to call their next witness. We’ve been at this for four days, and the end of this arson case may never come. Cormac—our organization’s corporate lawyer—and I—our criminal defense one—rarely sit together in a courtroom. Not in the gallery and not before a judge. It’s usually not good press for us to both show up.

But in this case, the DOJ is going after a corporation we just gained in a hostile takeover. They aim to show just how hostile it was. They have a hard-on to prove our family's venture capitalist firm guilty to discourage business practices that would permit or promote unlawful conduct at the expense of the public interest. The prosecution would love for this case to be more than just a slap on the wrists since it involves arson.

They think they’ve found the crack in my family’s armor and want to drill a hole to rip it off. Fat fucking chance. Between Cormac and me, we have our family’s interests so guarded they’re slicker than “Teflon Don” Gotti. That motherfucker. Humility goes a long way with tax evasion, loansharking, illegal gambling, racketeering, extortion, and obstruction of justice. Never mind the successful murders along with the attempts that put him away. We know our limits and work within them. That’s why this case is going nowhere. They’re fishing, and their nets keep coming up empty.

“Who’s this? I’ve never heard of Tiernan Furey.”

I point to the updated witness list. The prosecution didn’t disclose this guy’s name during the lead up to the trial. Apparently, the prosecution thinks they’ve found a way to impeach testimony from a witness they called who flipped on them. The guy discovered his twenty-seven-year-old son might need dental implants if he got his answers wrong. But the feds think they have a way to prove our guy lied under oath.

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard of him either, but he’s representing the insurance company, so this ought to be good. They’re just as pissed as the DOJ since they can’t prove we don’t deserve that massive insurance payout they can’t force us to return any time soon.”

I sit back and watch the judge, but I can see Benedict Hofstadter from the corner of my eye. His parents clearly thought he was an ugly arse baby when he was born to stick him with that name. Dict—Dick. Pretty much.

“I would like to call Tiernan Furey to the stand as the prosecution’s sixth witness, your honor.”

To say I’m unprepared for the person who walks between the counsels’ tables is a comical understatement. I can sense my brother’s surprise since I feel it too. But I don’t think Cor’s as stunned by the woman as I am. My cock just twitched. Fuck.

From the corner of my mouth, I mutter without my lips moving. “A woman?”

Tiernan is about as good an Irish name as you can get. But it’s a man’s name. At least, usually it is. The woman’s gorgeous, but the stare she’s fixed upon me makes her last name fit. Furey. In English, it might suggest heat or fire. Nope. In Irish Gaelic, it means cold or frosty. It comes from Ó Fuaráin. I took a strong interest in Gaelic history when I was a kid. I wanted to learn all the “real” versions of Irish names. I remember learning that one. I’ll definitely remember her.

“Ms. Furey, did your employer assign you to the insurance claim filed for what remained of the RK Capital Group’s building?”

“Yes, they did.”

RK Capital. I want to grin every time I hear that name. The Kutsenkos merged RK Capital with their venture capital company, Kutsenko Partners, then acquired RK about four years ago when Maksim met his now wife. They planned to tear it apart and divvy it up to make shell corps. But antitrust laws kept them from doing that. Maksim’s cousins were involved in fucking over my cousin Dillan’s wife while they were dating. Payback’s a bitch.

“Can you share with the court why you’ve been called here today as an expert witness?”

“I’m an actuary for Midlands Grant Insurance. Before this position, I was a fire investigator for the city of Trenton, New Jersey.”

If I’d ever let my emotions show, she’d see my left eye twitch. But my face is as stoic as it always is in court—unless I’m charming the jury. Then I’m all smiles when I need to be and near tears when I want to manipulate the fuck out of them. A fresh from the motherland name and from Trenton. Cormac and I know exactly who sent her. Our knees move at the same time and bump beneath the table. Our legs are long enough that no one looking toward us could tell we’re acknowledging our shared realization.

Gareth O’Brien.

The head of the Trenton mob. Our vassal. Our bitch.

Fucking Welsh name.

No wonder Tiernan is looking at us. She wants us to know who sent her. How convenient she wound up on this case. The real question I wish I could ask during cross examination is what the fuck does that douchebag want?

“Ms. Furey, could you please explain how you gained your expertise?”

“I began as a junior volunteer firefighter when I was fourteen. When I turned eighteen, I became a fully certified firefighter. When I returned to my hometown on breaks and over the summer, I took shifts. I attended John Jay College of Criminal Justice and earned a BS in Fire Science. After college, I worked for Trenton Fire Department for four years. During that time, I gained my certifications to become a fire investigator, and I earned a Master of Science in Applied Mathematics. For the past two years, I’ve been an insurance actuary specializing in fire damage.”

My leg presses harder against Cor’s. That’s where he went to college, and my guess is she’s around our age at thirty-two. I don’t expect him to know everyone who went to that college, but we kept a close eye on anyone syndicate affiliated when we were at school. No one wanted to get shanked in their dorm room.

“Can you share with the court the additional credentials you earned?”

“I hold certifications from the International Association of Arson Investigators, the National Association of Fire Investigators, the National Board of Fire Service Professionals, and the Forensics Specialties Accreditation Board. I’m a member of the American Academy of Forensic Science, and I’ve worked with the Forensics Specialties Accreditation Board.”

“So, you’ve worked in this field for sixteen years?”

“Eighteen.”

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