Page 37 of Consumed By the Mafia

Abigail nodded. “And does someone still have those helpful photos I snagged outside the pastry shop?”

“Mikey probably has more copies than he’ll ever need by now,” Ryomareplied.

“Good. I’ll need a copy of each. If they’re forwarded to my laptop and I’ve obviously had to change phones, that will account for them not being original.” Abigail reached into the case again and realized what she’d seen as a single earpiece was actually a set of earpieces. Not a connected pair, but two individual units. Realization dawned, with a mild flicker of annoyance, and she tossed one to Ryoma before slipping the other into her ear. “Given everything that’s happened, I think I’m going to need to report in.”

twelve

Innocence Lost

Ryoma listened quietly whileAbby called her boss. She called directly to the office of Newark’s Special Agent in Charge, which gave him an idea of the weight the feds had put on her shoulders. It was good they had decided to go with handing over a different group.We just have to get the fuckers first.

“I see,” Albert said after Abby had spun her tale. Having the man’s voice in his ear was incredibly disconcerting. “I can understand your cause for concern, Agent Fitzgerald, but that is a heavy accusation to be making.”

“I’maware of that, sir,” Abby said calmly. “If I had concrete proof, I’d be bringing it to you in person. Regardless, I thought the suspicion was valid enough to make known, considering the situation.”

Albert was silent for a moment.

Ryoma tapped his fingers restlessly over his elbow, having earlier folded his arms across his chest to hold himself still.

“Continue working as you would,” Albert finally said. “Report only what you need to report to Agent Mercer. Keep receipts for your personal lodging expenses and once this is settled, we’ll reimburse you. I’ll look into records on my end to make sure our systems weren’t compromised. But remember, suspicion without proof is not cause for action or persecution. There could be an entirely separate explanation we aren’t seeing yet.”

“Of course, sir.” Abby waited until the line clicked before closing her end of the call, severing the connection to Ryoma’s earpiece simultaneously. Her eyes flicked up, locking with his, and it was as if no space existed between them at all. “I don’t suppose one of your tech geniuses can backdate a digital trail to make it look like I booked myself into a hotel yesterday? It probably won’t be long before they double-check that story.”

Ryoma slipped his phone from his pocket. “Something like that’s probably child’s play for those nerds.” He typed out the request, with a quick explanation, and sent it off. “Any particular account you want it attached to?”

Abby rattled off a number without hesitation, as if it wasn’t information he or the family by extension could use to seriously hurt her.

He sent a second text with those details and let the phone rest in his lap while they waited for a response.

In the stretch of silence that followed, Abby sighed and slumped back into her chair. “So, are you ready for a long and boring day of searching for ghosts?”

Ryoma chuckled and straightened, stepping toward her. “Baby girl, you don’t have to restrict yourself to your old methods anymore. You have me.”

She arched a brow. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but haven’t you all been searching for Brendan Coughlan for months? And wasn’tIthe first one to get you even a recent photo?”

He only shrugged. “You’re not wrong. But now that we do have the knowledge of what he looks like, it’ll be a hell of a lot harder for him to hide from us. Besides—” Ryoma held out a hand, waiting until she settled her palm over his to haul her swiftly to her feet. “With the Irish floodin’ into town, it’s bound to be easier to round them up. All we really need is one or two bodies to put the squeeze on.”

Abby scoffed and pushed him out of her personal space before turning toward the door. “I prefer interrogation to squeezing.”

He grinned shamelessly, easily catching up to her stride. “Then we might need three or four. That way when your way fails, we still have bodies left over for mine.”

“I don’t think I appreciate your assumption there.”

“Not personal,” he said as his phone buzzed with an incoming text. “It’s just a safe bet that these guys won’t be so willing to talk when they’reasked. We got our hands on one a few months back who was pretty tight-lipped.” He droppedhis gaze to the screen long enough to read Mikey’s confirmation, pretending he didn’t know Abby was giving him another dubious look. “Hotel issue is handled.” He sent one more message, this time requesting transportation, before finally looking up again.

Abby arched a brow, her forward progress halted at the edge of the foyer. “Do I want to know what happened to that guy you were just talking about?”

Ryoma met her stare. “Probably not.”

She blew out a breath and rolled her head toward the door. “Are we just supposed to start walking? Do we call a cab?”

“Patience, baby girl,” he teased. “I’m sorting that out for us.” His phone buzzed again and he opened the latest text.

Mikey:Car’s on its way. Five minutes.

Ryoma grinned, sent his gratitude, and let himself lean back against the wall to face his companion. “We’ve got a couple minutes to kill. Tell me how a girl barely into her teens becomes obsessed enough with ‘justice’ to decide to join the FBI.”

Abby’s eyes went wide, as if the question caught her off-guard. “That’s—I don’t—”

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