Enticed by the Enemy (Morelli Family #3) - Leighton Greene Page 0,1

like. They want me gone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I truly was. Hanson was my natural enemy, a detective involved over the years in more than one task force dedicated to eradicating the kind of business I was in. But Hanson had always played fair. Always known that while the Families took, they also contributed to New York City.

“Yeah, well,” he said, shrugging off his bad mood again. “Anyhow, that’s why I wanted to meet. Say goodbye and good luck. You know I always had a lotta respect for your Family.”

“I don’t have a family, you know that.”

He shook his head, smirking. “Sure, sure. I always respected your tight lips, too, Messina. Not many men who give away as little as you do. You always kept your rep lily-white, even when you got your hands dirty.”

I’d never acknowledged even the slightest involvement in anything untoward to any law enforcement officer.

And I never would.

“I’m a businessman, Hanson. That’s all.”

“You’re my white whale, Messina, that’s what you are. The one that got away. But I’m okay with that. It was our job to make something stick, and we never could. That’s how the game goes. These new up-and-comers, though, they got all sorts of ideas. New tech, new forensics. You wanna consider that in the future, Messina. Why not retire while you can?”

“I’m too young to retire.”

“Plus the Morellis are picking up steam, eh?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Heard they slammed the door on the Irish pretty hard. So between that and the shit that went down in Chicago, they’re moving up in the world. Some say this new Don of theirs, D’Amato, he’s too young. Making himself too big a target. But then I hear the new Underboss acts as the voice of experience. A nice partnership, I’d say.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said again.

“Sure you wouldn’t.” Hanson finished his sandwich, then wiped his fingers on the napkin. “He sure is something, though, don’t you think, that Luca D’Amato? The Morelli Don, out and proud, with a husband to boot. Who would’ve thought the men of honor would ever go for it?” He studied my face. “Still nothin’? Okay, how about this; is it true Tino Morelli has another secret kid hidden somewhere? Come on, Messina, you gotta assuage my curiosity about something before I get out of the game. “

“I wouldn’t know. But you can assuage mine and tell me who that kid out there is.” I thumbed over my shoulder. “The one who’s been following me the last twenty minutes.”

I seemed to have ticked Hanson’s funny bone, because he laughed so hard he ended up wheezing. I turned right around on the counter stool to look out the window while he caught his breath.

There, staring back at me, was a young man with an umbrella getting battered in the rain. But he didn’t move. Suit and tie were pristine under his raincoat, and his eyes were unflinching, boring into me.

“Babyface?” Hanson said at last. “Well, I guess you can call him Ishmael.” At my questioning look, he went on, “That’s one of the kids who’s done me out of a job, fresh outta Quantico. Damn pain in the ass, he is.” The words were harsh, but the tone had an air of affection.

Hanson waved at the kid, motioned him to come inside, and for the first time my observer moved—merely to shake his head. “Little bitch owes me,” Hanson chuckled. “You owe me!” he shouted, as though his voice would carry through the window. “We had a bet, see. He said you wouldn’t notice him following you. I said nothing gets past Angelo Messina, and he’d better pony up and put his money where his mouth was.”

Whoever he was, he was still staring at me like I was a zoo animal. “Why don’t we invite him in?” I suggested. “Get him out of the rain.” I wanted a close-up look at him so I’d know him again. It paid to know the faces of the law enforcement agents assigned to the Morelli Family.

“Nah, he told me meeting with you was a conflict of interest. I told him you was just a businessman, so how could it be a conflict?”

“How, indeed,” I murmured.

The gray light outside lit up again as lightning fled across the sky, and the immediate booming thunder sounded as though the world itself were cracking open. Even for my obsessed observer, it was a little much—finally, he flinched.

Hanson heaved himself off the barstool and lumbered to the door. He stuck his