Page 64 of Whatever It Takes

Sergeant Sardino expected everyone in their place, pens in hands on the dot. You toed the line or else. There was no bullshit during his briefing. You got your assignments, had your questions answered, grabbed your stuff and started your shift. In order words, I needed to be quick.

“As a matter-of-fact, I found that in my girlfriend’s purse. You pulled her over a couple nights ago for speeding and gave her a break, which I appreciate. However, I do not appreciate you hitting on my woman when you’re on the clock.”

“Woah.” He put his hand out in front of him. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Charlotte Anderson,” I reminded him, watching pieces of the puzzle fall together. If I didn’t have his attention before, I had it now.

He stared at me for a minute and crossed his arms over his chest. “Grant Anderson’s wife?” He cocked an arrogant eyebrow as if he had it all figured out. “I remember her.”

I knew the second I laid eyes on the little punk that I didn’t like him. A few of his buddies stood off to the side waiting to walk in with him. He tried to play it cool, like we were just standing around shooting the shit. His pride and his ego looked way too big for his small frame.

“Her estranged husband. And she’s not going to be his wife for much longer.” My eyes narrowed, warning him that he needed to proceed with caution. “And it would be in your best interest to forget about her.”

His back went straight and he stood taller. “I wasn’t trying to steal your girl. I wouldn’t have even given her my number if she hadn’t offered up the fact that she was in the process of a divorce.”

“Well, I guess now you know.”

He cleared his throat as his eyes flickered over to the briefing room. His friends were still watching. “So, she’s already got herself a new man before the ink is even dry.” He whistled for show, trying to save face. “Damn, she moves on pretty quick.”

My eyes narrowed, and I felt my calm exterior fading. I wanted to break his fucking neck for antagonizing me. “Officer, you’re making a fool of yourself trying to impress your buddies over there.” I nodded, my tone was hard and emotionless. It only flustered him. “I’ve been out of high school a lot longer than you, so let me give you a piece of advice. Grow the fuck up and act like a man. When you’re wrong, admit it! I approached you directly and with respect. And if you ever see Charlotte Anderson again, you better turn in the other direction and walk away.”

He hissed through his teeth. I looked down at my watch. “Oh, would you look at that. The second hand just hit the number twelve.” I gave him a smug smile. “You know Sargent Sardino…Chop-chop, buddy.”

With that, I turned on my heels and strolled over to one of the break rooms to get my caffeine fix. Just as I was checking my messages and sipping my watered-down coffee, a hand slapped me on the shoulder, causing the liquid to spill over the edge of my cup.

“You got a few minutes?” Marco asked over the voices out in the hallway, bits and pieces of conversations spilling into the room.

“For you, I’ve got plenty of time. I came in early this morning.”

He smirked. “I caught the tail end of the conversation out there.” He laughed. “I didn’t want to interrupt the teacher.”

“Little fucker needed some lessons in common courtesy.”

Marco helped himself to an empty seat at one of the round tables. He wiped his hand down his face, scraping his jaw. “We should have the room to ourselves for a few minutes.”

I leaned back in the small plastic chair and crossed my ankles. “What’s up?”

He cleared his throat and sipped his coffee. “We’ve made great progress in the investigation. We got a lead. A very good lead.”

I blinked, afraid to get my hopes up. “Tell me.”

“The friend from college,” he stated, waiting for my reaction. “The one who informed us about the night that Grant took advantage of Charlotte,” he said gently. “We did a little more digging. You’re never going to believe who his daddy is.”

“Who?” I asked through a clenched jaw, urging him to hurry the fuck up and tell me.

“Vinny Valentino.”

I nearly choked on my coffee. “The mob boss who owns a good chunk of the Eastern Seaboard?”

“The one and only.”

“Jesus.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “How did you guys not know this?” I snapped.

“The son goes by a different last name. Romano, after his mother. He went to a lot of trouble to bury his connection to his father, as you might expect.”

I tilted my neck to the side, willing the tension to leave my shoulders. “What’s the word on the street?”

“We got our informants looking into a couple strip clubs that Vinny owns, as well as his restaurants and real estate properties.”

My jaw was locked tight. “It’s starting to make sense. How Grant’s been able to stay hidden for so long. Not to mention, Vinny Valentino is a lot higher up on the food chain than a drug trafficker like Scarantino.”

“Exactly. There is no way this is just a coincidence.” He smacked his hands on his knees and leaned in whispering, “I’m telling you this as a friend. The Feds are all in this shit now. You cannot breathe a word.”

“I would never do anything to jeopardize this case. If Grant is messed up in this shady shit, Charlotte’s safety comes first.”

“Agreed. So, watch your back.” He stood up and threw his coffee out in the trash can. “I’ll keep you posted.”

---