Page 9 of A Very Un-Shakespeare Romance
“Why don’t you drink your fancy coconut water and turn off the car?” her partner continued. “We can pretend we’re working on our phones. Do you remember when it was weird for people to stay in their cars? Now it’s so common it makes me wonder what the world is coming to.”
“But it makes surveillance easier.” She grabbed her coconut water from her little cooler bag in the back. “I’ve given up trying to convince you how much better this is for hydration than all the Starbucks and Cokes you inhale. Not that I don’t like caffeine, but six to ten a day is going to bite back someday, and I happen to like my partner.”
“You’re not too bad yourself—even if you do like pink water. Why it’s pink and not white I still don’t understand.”
“I’ve told you it’s the oxygenation of the sugars.” She took a healthy swig and smacked her lips. “I can even taste the beach it was on. Man, I miss the beach sometimes.” Even at her worst moments as a kid, she could find escape on the beach and then in the Pacific, first learning to swim and later surfing.
“We need a vacation.” Sheila patted her belly, her pudge as she called it. “Not that I’m ever swimsuit ready. Doesn’t matter if I run ten miles a day like I did when I was at Quantico. I’m always carrying the Morales extras around the bust, hips, and bootie, which I swear are from all the black beans, rice, and tortillas of my childhood.”
“Your mother is the best cook I’ve ever met. If I were an investor, I’d try to get her to quit the bench and open a restaurant.”
“I’ll tell Judge Morales about your offer when I call her next. Hey! Do you see that black car turning into the parking lot? It screams government issue.”
She held up her phone, looking over her shoulder casually, as if she were on FaceTime. “Yeah. I agree. That pops your dirty cop theory.”
“Not necessarily. They could be in on it.”
When two men left the car with fuck-you strides and shabby suits, Lily straightened in her seat. “Hey, that’s O’Connor’s partner, Mickey Evans, and—”
“Roland Thomas from Internal Affairs. Dammit! It seems the jig is up. We’re going to have to approach and tell them we’re onto Scotty Flanagan and his wife for suspected money laundering.”
“Not in the toy store,” Lily pleaded, putting a hand on Sheila’s arm. “There are kids in there, having fun, oblivious to how bad the world can be sometimes.”
Sheila nodded crisply. “We can wait.”
Fifteen minutes passed, and another car raced to the front of the parking lot. Lily gaped as a forest green Chevrolet Suburban arrived and parked close to O’Connor’s car. Two men exited, the bulky one extremely tall with a shaved head, white T-shirt, and ripped jeans. The other was still a sizable height but with a more slender build. He had on a blue T-shirt and brown cargo pants. Lily studied faces for a living, and she caught the O’Connor resemblance in the jaw and brow line.
“Ladies and gentlemen, meet Boston’s version of Vin Diesel and his sidekick,” Sheila said with a laugh.
“They’re his brothers,” she said softly. “I’d bet you more pistachios.”
Sheila lifted her phone and took a few photos. “You might be right, but I can put their photos in and check for sure.”
“Later. Let’s keep our eyes peeled.”
The men quickly went inside. Sheila lowered her phone, her mouth twisting to one side. “Any ideas? Because I don’t think they’re here shopping for toys for their kids.”
She turned the car on. “It has to be a meet, right? But if we go inside, we’ll blow our cover. I say we wait here and see what their next play is.”
“And hope they aren’t going out the back,” Sheila said wryly.
Right. Five minutes later, the tall bald guy exited the store with Cassidy in his arms while the other guy held Reagan’s hand. Each girl was carrying a new toy, Cassidy’s a furry brown rabbit and Reagan’s a new Barbie of some sort. Both men were talking to the kids, and the girls were animated. Happy, even. “If they are Robbie’s brothers, then it makes sense that the girls know them.”
Sheila threw aside more pistachios and picked up her phone, surreptitiously taking photos. “They sure look chummy with the kiddies. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”
Lily watched as the brothers took the girls to the Suburban and proceeded to show them the inside of the vehicle. Robbie O’Connor appeared seconds later with the other two police officers. All were carrying gift bags from the toy store. Good cover that. At the car, Lieutenant O’Connor opened the side door, grabbed the diaper bag, and then disappeared around the back of the vehicle to unlock the trunk. The men huddled around it, obstructing their view.
“Dammit!” Sheila leaned closer to the dashboard. “I can’t get a bead on what they’re doing.”
“Neither can I,” Lily said. “Take some photos anyway. We’ll see if our tech guys can work their magic.”
Moments later, Robbie hefted out the black suitcase, handing it over to Roland Thomas, who shook his hand and took off toward his vehicle. Lily caught sight of the diaper bag resting in the back beside the girls’ suitcases as Robbie turned to his partner. There was a tense moment when O’Connor laid his hand on Mickey Evans’ shoulder.
“Whatever he’s communicating isserious,” she said.
Sheila gave a low whistle. “He’s just gone to Internal Affairs and handed over the Kellys’ mob money with his partner present. Smart to have a witness he trusts on the force. You’re right about one thing. This likely blows my dirty cop theory. If they aren’t dirty, O’Connor will be a target now, both from the inside leak on his own force and the Kellys. Because it doesn’t look like he’s going with them. Interesting…”
She watched as O’Connor and his partner man-hugged. “No, he isn’t.”
