Ginny Aiken

Mixed Up with the Mob


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that spiritist junk look, Grandma?” Dan asked, humor laced through his words.

      Grandma Dottie shrugged. “Oh, the ones I’ve seen on talk shows wear yards of filmy fabric, too much eye makeup, and talk like spaced-out teenagers. And they haven’t been teens for decades, you know.”

      David had a sudden vision of a well-upholstered matron, a cloud of lavender chiffon in swathes around her…upholstery, raccoon-black goop around turquoise-shadowed beady eyes, her hair a perfect Miss Clairol shade of champagne and giant gobby rings on her every finger.

      “That’s it,” he said. “It’s late enough that my mind’s begun to do a Grandma Dottie meld. Reality check, folks. And time to head home.” He turned to Dan. “Hey, thanks for everything, man.”

      Dan chuckled. “Are you kidding? I live for this kind of thing. I called Eliza, told her what was up with you, and what wasn’t happening at my post, and she couldn’t send me after you fast enough.”

      “Great. Now I’ll have to face the dragon lady first thing tomorrow morning.”

      “Make sure you have your Wheaties,” Dan said with a wink. “You gotta walk into the dragon’s lair well fortified, you know.”

      “First ghosts, and now dragons,” David said. “Let’s go home, Gram. You can tell me what’s wrong with your Hummer on the way.”

      He drove the short distance to his grandmother’s elegant town house in a historic district of Philly only half listening to her tale of Hummer woe. To his disinterested ear, it all sounded like a cooked-up excuse to drag him to the cosmetics party, after all. And that didn’t particularly bother him. He knew his grandmother very, very well.

      He didn’t, however, know Lauren DiStefano at all. But he did know he was going to get to know her a whole lot better. And soon.

      Because he’d just remembered where he’d heard the name Ric DiStefano. DiStefano was a big-time venture capital guru.

      And his business, DiStefano Enterprises, was under investigation for SEC violations. It’d been all over the news. To make matters worse, it seemed the guy’d had possible connections with Mat Papparelli, a dead money launderer for the mob.

      A late mobster whose widow had turned state’s evidence. The very same woman Dan Maddox was supposed to be keeping in protective custody.

      Why would Eliza Roberts, Dan and David’s boss, pull Dan from his assignment? Why would she send him after David’s ghost-loving hit-and-run victim?

      Organized crime was David’s shtick.

      What was Lauren DiStefano’s game?

      THREE

      “What’s this about ghosts, Agent Latham?”

      David looked at Eliza Roberts, a brunette knockout with blazing green eyes. “Trust me, Eliza. There’s nothing to it. But something’s up with that DiStefano woman, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

      “Good. Because as of now, she’s all yours.”

      He gave her a nod. “Thanks. I was pretty sick of pushing papers between real jobs.”

      She smirked. “Can’t keep you field guys in one place for long, can I?”

      “Do you really want to?”

      “Someone’s got to keep up with your paperwork, and no one can read what you guys call writing. But I’ll admit it’s a waste of manpower when you sit around for too long.”

      That comment didn’t sit very well with David, but he knew better than to call her on it. Eliza Roberts was not one to mess with.

      “What’s the scoop on Ric DiStefano?” he asked instead.

      Her superior smile got under his skin. She wasn’t very likable.

      “Here’s the file we have on him.”

      The slim manila folder landed right in front of him on the vast expanse of polished wood. The Bureau didn’t provide such luxuries, not even for their Supervising Special Agents. The desk’s provenance, as well as that of Eliza’s pricey leather chair, was the subject of much speculation in the office.

      “Not much here, is there?” he asked after he leafed through the few sheets.

      “What you see is what you get. We got a heads-up from the SEC guys about six weeks ago. That’s what they faxed us.”

      The tight electric rush he got at the start of an investigation zipped right through him. “So it’s a fresh one. Is anyone else on it?”

      “No. I saw no reason to assign it. From where I stood, it looked like a typical SEC case. They’d just copied us on it because of the possible organized crime connection. I’m sure if they’d found more, they would have sent it on. And the connection looks pretty weak to me.”

      David gave her a skeptical look. “Then why’d you send Maddox over last night?”

      She turned to avoid his gaze—or so it seemed.

      “He wanted to go,” she said. “And he said something about picking up your…grandmother. That doesn’t sound right, does it?”

      “Maybe not, but yeah. I was on my way to pick her up when the deal with DiStefano’s sister came up. I’d been on the cell phone with Maddox, and I asked him to call 911 and to make sure she got home safe. And, sure, he did call 911, but then he also showed up at the scene.”

      Alarm filled Eliza’s face. “But not with an elderly woman, right?”

      “Sorry. Maddox brought her along.”

      “What was he thinking? The cops had a hit-and-run and a five-year-old child to contend with. And Maddox went and made matters worse by bringing a frail senior citizen to the scene?” She shook her head. “I’m going to have to talk to him—”

      “Don’t bother,” David said. “My grandmother’s anything but fragile. She’s nearly six feet tall, built like a battleship, has the instincts of a fox and the nine lives of a cat. She was in no danger. Believe me.”

      Eliza’s frown didn’t ease. “That was a serious lapse in procedure, Latham. And you know it. Maddox does, too.”

      “Cut him some slack, will you? I asked him to take care of my grandmother, and you sent him to a scene that was already under investigation by Philly’s best. I was there, too. Why would you want to divert Dan’s attention from his merry mob widow?”

      Again, Eliza’s green eyes danced away from David’s gaze.

      His instincts weren’t much shabbier than Gram’s. Something was happening. And Eliza knew it as soon as Dan called to tell her what David had witnessed. He doubted she’d had the gray Lexus under surveillance. That only left one other possibility.

      “Why are you keeping tabs on Lauren DiStefano?” he asked.

      Eliza jerked around to face him. He’d hit the nail on the head.

      “I suppose I can tell you now that I’ve assigned you to the case,” she said. “We’ve been watching the house since the tip from the SEC. As soon as Maddox told me where your accident happened, I figured another pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt.”

      “So why keep it a secret from me? As you said, you did just assign me to the case.”

      She shrugged. “Habit, I guess. I like to play things close to the vest.”

      David snorted. “Maybe too close. Either you give your field agents all the info, or you wind up with a mess, maybe even egg on your face. We can’t operate in the dark.”

      She tipped up her chin. “Are you trying to tell me how to do my job, Agent Latham?”

      He rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t presume.”

      She