Page 14 of Sweet Revenge
“First quarter numbers are in from all the tenants. Revenue is up, and one of them wants to talk about a renovation.”
“Which one?”
“The bakery. She wants to add outdoor seating. I scheduled her into your calendar for a meeting later this month.”
Her sales numbers were impressive. Who knew cupcakes turned such handsome profits? “Pull the numbers on her lease. I want to see what she’s currently paying in rent.”
“Of course. Nothing exciting in the mail today except for an invite to the mayor’s fundraiser for his next run.” She handed over an embossed envelope, opened with a precise cut down the fold.
Declan tapped on the stationery, running his thumb over the gaudy gold filigree. He wouldn’t turn down the invite. If he was going to bother lining a politician’s pockets, he wanted to be photographed with them. Often. That way if he went down, they went down with him. DiMarco often operated the same way, which meant this party might serve two motives.
“Can you get me the guest list for this?”
Helen frowned. “Probably. Any particular reason?”
He pinned her with a look. “I want it.”
She bobbed her head, clasping her hands in front of her. “I’m sure it won’t be difficult. McGee sent over the final report about the O’Brians.” She handed over the final folder.
“And?”
“I didn’t read that one.” She squeezed her fingers together tightly, lips pursed.
“Anything else?” he asked, looking up when she didn’t move.
“I heard Evie O’Brian is back in town,” she said in a rush of breath.
There it was. He sat back in his chair, his face neutral. “She is. People tend to do that when their parents die.”
“I heard they were murdered.”
Declan glanced down at the folder that sat closed in front of him and back up at Helen’s face. “I thought you didn’t read this.”
She shifted, brushing at the skirt of her dress. “I didn’t. I was having dinner with my parents last night and my brothers. They were…speculating about what might have happened.”
“It’s not really their job to speculate, is it?”
“No. Will that be all?”
He nodded and waited for her to close the door behind her. Swiveling in his chair, he looked out the window at the street below. From this vantage point, he could just make out the traffic on the opposite side of the street. It would start to pick up soon as the day ticked into the lunch hour and busy executives emptied out of their skyscrapers for a quick bite.
There was always talk. The Callahan syndicate consisted of twelve families, so it was impossible to squash gossip. Especially about something like this. Helen was a Maguire, one of the original five families, so if they were talking, then others definitely were.
It would have to wait until after the funeral, but he’d call a meeting with his lieutenants and set the record straight on exactly what did and didn’t happen so they could all stop gossiping like old ladies and get back to their jobs. He shot a quick message to Finn to put the word out and flipped open the folder on McGee’s report.
It was pretty much a written version of what he’d told Evie and Nessa this morning, except with diagrams of the stab wounds and photos of the crime scene and bodies. He’d make sure Evie got a copy of this if she wanted one.
Having McGee had certainly made their lives easier. It got harder and harder every year to keep good cops on the payroll. He had a few left, loyal syndicate men, but not nearly enough were willing to play the game anymore.
So he provided McGee with whatever funds he needed to handle shit like this, and they kept their deaths and their investigations internal. It was much easier to dish out your own justice when you could get answers without having to deal with the cops.
Once he had his dirt on DiMarco saved for a rainy day, he’d get Brogan to use whatever tools he had at his disposal to find the bastard who’d killed his people. Just because it was random didn’t mean someone wasn’t going to pay. No one fucked with the Callahan syndicate and walked away clean.
ChapterEight
When Evie pulled into the driveway of her parents' house the following afternoon, a knot tightened in her belly. Nessa was already there waiting for her, and when she climbed out of her car, Evie did the same.
The house looked different in the light of day with its happy yellow siding and blue shutters. The flower beds were just starting to wake up, and in a few weeks, they’d be a riot of colors and scents. Her mother loved to get her hands in the dirt and tease life out of it.
