The Cain Casey Series

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Giovanni Bracato sat with his eldest son Gino and daughter-in-law Eris in the corner of Eleven 79, named for its address in the warehouse district. As the hostess seated the Caseys almost in the center of the room, both men stared at them, seething, but Eris appeared almost dazed.

“The wine list, Ms. Casey.” The waiter handed Cain a thick leather-bound menu. “If you like I can make a few recommendations.”

“What are you in the mood for, love—red or white?”

“Red, I think.”

After Cain ordered wine, she returned the menu and glimpsed Giovanni and Gino whispering furiously. “Well, part of our party’s here,” Cain remarked as she picked up Emma’s hand and kissed her palm. “Where do you suppose the rest of the players are?”

Emma leaned forward, giving Cain an excellent view of the tops of her breasts, and brushed a strand of hair behind Cain’s ear. As Emma kissed the exposed ear a moment later she whispered, “Table near the entrance to the kitchen, three guys. Seems you rate over the FBI, honey, if that’s the best table they could get.”

“And they say crime doesn’t pay,” Cain joked. “Good job, Emma.”

She pulled slightly back from Emma when a man dressed all in white approached their table and waited to be addressed. “Yes?” Cain asked.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Ms. Casey. Mrs. Casey.” He bowed his head to them. “I’m Ralph, and my partner Kevin told me you’d be joining us tonight. I wanted to welcome you and treat you to dinner.”

“Thank you, Ralph, but that really isn’t necessary.”

“Then may I serve the menu I devised just for the two of you? I really do owe you a great deal. Mrs. Casey helped Kevin move into management at the store, which helped me get through school without owing a small fortune.”

Emma dropped her hand to Cain’s thigh, treating it to a slow massage. “Please, Ralph, call me Emma, and this is Cain. We love to be fed, so begin whenever you like.”

Sitting by the kitchen, agents Joe, Lionel, and Anthony were enjoying their appetizers and talking into their sleeves every so often to Shelby and another agent in the van next door. Agent Claire Lansing, a computer-surveillance expert, had been assigned to the team per Shelby and Joe’s request. They planned to phase Tony out soon, afraid that his hatred of Cain would cloud his judgment.

At the other end of the room, Giovanni and Gino could barely fit in their booth. Giovanni hadn’t touched his food yet, unlike his son Gino, who was holding his fork like a shovel and stuffing his mouth with veal. Next to him his wife Eris limited her movements to taking healthy sips from her drink. Her husband grabbed the plate of pasta sitting before her and replaced it with his empty dish.

“Fucking Christ, how much of that shit did you snort before we left the house?” Gino asked Eris. The circles under her eyes were as black as her shoes, and she looked anemic from the lack of food after the drugs and alcohol had stolen her appetite.

“Leave me alone, asshole.” Eris slurred her words. “I didn’t want to be here tonight, so who gives a goddamn how much blow I had before we got here.”

Her father-in-law looked at her with disgust.

“What’s the matter, old man? Don’t care for what you see?”

“Gino, you better deal with this problem, and soon. We have enough to keep us busy for the rest of the fucking decade.” He downed his glass of wine in one gulp. “I can’t believe that Casey bitch lived. Look at her with that little blond slut, acting like she doesn’t have a care in the world.”

“Don’t worry about it, Papa. It’s under control.” Gino’s fork was loaded with pasta, and some of the sauce dribbled on the napkin under his chin.

Chewing with his mouth full, he waved over one of his men from the bar. “Take her home, and no stops along the way.” He pointed to Eris. “Get something to eat and go to bed, and when I get home, we’ll discuss your behavior.” He dropped his fork and squeezed her arm until she whimpered. “Get out of my sight.”

“I see that Gino needs some lessons in manners when it comes to treating his wife with respect. I wonder if she stayed off that shit long enough so baby Gino won’t have any lasting problems.” Cain made the observation as she fed Emma a bite of her appetizer.

“I might be hooked on drugs myself if I had to live with that animal,” Emma answered. “I held that little baby not that long ago, during that infamous kidnapping episode that started this whole mess, and he seemed responsive. Maybe she had a shred of maternal instinct left when she found out she was pregnant.”

“Maybe,” Cain said, distracted. She shifted her attention from the two buffoons to the three sitting at the other end of the room.

“Anything?” Anthony asked into the mike in his sleeve as he lifted his glass of ginger ale.

“Are you sure you gave us the right table?” Claire responded. “Because all we’re getting is a big jumble of background noise.”

“Middle table, the one we marked as number four when we came in and canvassed earlier. You should be getting something.”

Shelby sounded impatient. “One of these days you’re going to figure out all these people we chase aren’t complete idiots. They’re keeping their voices low enough so they become part of the background, even with the most sophisticated equipment. We’re concentrating on Bracato and son since they’ve been nice enough to speak clearly.”

“Keep trying Casey and the woman with her,” Anthony said. “I just know she’s up to something.”

“Is there ever a clever way to hide that you’re talking to your wrist?” Emma asked, as she leaned in and kissed Cain’s ear again.

Before she said anything, Cain took hold of Emma’s hand and kissed her on the wrist while looking at the three men. “Unless you do it like this, there isn’t really a way.”

No one but Cain noticed a deliveryman walk in carrying a box and his clipboard. After a brief conversation with the hostess, he was directed toward Bracato’s table.

“Mr. Giovanni Bracato?”

“What do you want?”

“Delivery for you, sir. If you’d just sign here.” The deliveryman handed over the box.

“What the fuck is that?” Gino asked.

“How in the hell should I know? I’m eating dinner, for God’s sake. Who has something delivered to someone in a restaurant?” He ripped the tape off the top, noticing that the label didn’t have a return address.

When he removed the top, most of the people sitting close to them put their napkins up to their faces. From the stench, Giovanni had to guess the fish resting on the bottom was more than a few days old. He shoved it at the first waiter who appeared, but made sure to pick up the enclosed note.

Blue sends his regards.

It was short, but conveyed the point quite admirably, and he flipped the card over and over in his fingers before looking at his son. “Who’s Blue?”

“The manager of Cain’s club, Emerald’s. He’s working for Stephano now since the tragedy that put him out of a job.” He laughed at his own joke, oblivious to Giovanni’s rage. “He’s given us quite the insight into Casey’s business.”

“Shut up before we end up in jail.”

“What was in the box, Papa?”

Giovanni leaned over and whispered in his son’s ear. “A message for you and your idiot brother. Blue, or whatever his name was, is fish food. For a fucking Irish Mick, Cain’s up on Italian customs. Make sure you find your brother tonight and tell him someone sold him out.”

A wave of panic swept over Giovanni so fast, he was afraid his dinner was going to reappear. Before the waiter could get back to the kitchen with the box, a man at the back table stopped him and peeked inside it. Giovanni kicked himself for being so busy trying to burn a hole in Cain’s head with nasty looks that he’d failed to see the more-than-obvious feds.

“Man, that smells like a dead fish,” Joe said, holding his nose.

“Good detective skills, Simmons,” Anthony said sarcastically. “It’s a message from someone to Giovanni. Someone he knows and more than likely worked for him is dead.”

“Who do you think sent it?” Lionel asked.

“I’m sure it was the Girl Scout feeding tiramisu to the blonde as we speak. Tonight was nothing but them showing who has the bigger dick.” Anthony angrily handed the box back to the restaurant worker.

From the van Shelby laughed and shook her head. “If Tony’s comparing Cain to Bracato, my money’s still on her.”

“You sound like you really admire her,” Claire said.

“It’s more like a healthy respect for her as an opponent. Most of the agents who’ve tried to nail her in the past have tried to categorize her, but that doesn’t work because Cain’s hard to define. She believes every problem has a solution, then proves that it does.”

Claire removed her glasses and chewed on an earpiece. “Like I said, it sounds as if you find that admirable.”

“Let me put it this way. Some people study cobras and may even think they’re beautiful or admirable because they can survive. But I doubt they ever forget they’re deadly snakes. That’s how I feel about Cain Casey.”

“That she’s a deadly snake.”

“She’s not remotely snaky, but she is dangerous and deadly. Kyle didn’t see it, and I don’t think Bracato and his crew will either. She’s circling but isn’t the least bit ready to strike.”

“Would you like to tour the kitchen before you go?” Ralph asked the Caseys.

Hearing his voice prompted Claire to put her glasses back on and fool with the powerful mike to try and listen in on their conversation.

“We’d love to.” Emma answered for both of them. “That was excellent. In fact, I’ve already told Cain we have to come back soon.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Ralph pulled Emma’s chair out for her and helped her up. “I come to work every day and feel like I’m living a dream. Thank you both for trying the place.”

“You’re quite welcome. And thank Kevin for his little gift. I’ll put it to good use.”

Cain helped Emma with her jacket, peeling off some money to pay the bill. She enjoyed watching Emma fall back into the wife-of-Cain-Casey role she’d long ago perfected. Anyone who met her seldom forgot her soon. Emma made others feel loved and at peace.

Most of the kitchen workers glanced up from their tasks and smiled as Ralph took Cain and Emma through. The space looked chaotic, but in actuality it was like a coordinated ballet. Each person had a role, and the whole of their skills produced the food the restaurant was quickly becoming known for.

“I hope to see you both again soon,” Ralph said as he showed them to the back door. “Here you go.” He handed the keys to his car over to Cain. “Keep it as long as you like, and if you need anything else, just call me again.”

“When you finish tonight, Ralph, our car and driver will take you home, and I’ll have your car delivered to you no later than noon tomorrow.”

Cain and Ralph shook hands again, and Ralph returned to work.

Forty-five minutes later, Joe went to the bathroom, taking the long way around to peek into the kitchen to see what Cain and Emma found so interesting. Merrick and Katlin hadn’t moved from their table. Only the larger guard Shelby had reported earlier had stepped out for a smoke behind the building. The Bracatos were also watching the entrance to the kitchen, waiting for the women to reemerge and hoping to follow them to their next destination.

The chef the Caseys had been talking to was busy flipping something on the multiburner stove with no audience but the people who worked for him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joe muttered as he continued into the kitchen, sure that Emma and Cain were gone.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but you can’t come in here,” a waiter emerging with a loaded tray said. The sudden stop he’d made trying not to crash into the agent made the plates slide precariously to the edge. “Can I get you something?”

“I was just looking for some friends.” He glanced around, trying to spot a nook the women might have slipped into. “I saw them come in here and was waiting to tell them hello.”

“Unless your friends work for the restaurant, there’s no one back here, sir.” Another man dressed in kitchen attire took Joe by the arm and led him back toward the tables. “If you need anything else, please ask your waiter.”

“But I saw them come in here,” Joe insisted.

“You were just in the kitchen. They’re not here. It’s just employees, I tell you.”

“The bird we’ve been watching has flown,” Joe said into the mike in his sleeve.

“Not through the front door,” Claire answered.

Joe looked out the window to confirm that the driver and five other guards Cain had arrived with were still there. Most of them were leaning against the car talking and smoking cigarettes.

“I realize that.” Joe stepped through the front door and headed to the back of the place. “There’s a back door through the kitchen. What we don’t know is what they left in.” He looked at the door Cain had obviously used, then the parking lot. Cain had outfoxed them again since the getaway had to have been planned ahead. “She knew we’d be watching.”

“Not a stretch, Sherlock, since we’re always watching,” Anthony said as he joined his colleague.

“If you’re not out here to help me, can I suggest you just fuck off?” For the first time since they’d met, Joe used his height and weight to try and intimidate the shorter agent, making him take a step back. “I’ve had it with the attitude, just like I’ve had it with this case. We’re no closer than Kyle to catching this woman doing something wrong.”

“Perhaps it’s time we took a page from our old boss’s tricks,” Anthony said, looking at the smug guards.

“That’s it. Get the fuck away from me.” Joe called for Lionel inside and headed to the truck across the street.

Anthony walked toward the city, alone.