Chapter 2

"Vincent Fiorito … why does that name sound so familiar?" I said to no one in particular as I plugged his name into the system. I sat back and read his files as the data was being processed.

He was four years older than me and grew up one block from my parents' house. That would explain the familiarity, but of course with the age difference it wasn't like I'd hung out with him. He had no sisters. The youngest brother was a year younger than me and he had two older brothers. The data filled my computer screen and I was looking at a very impressive rap sheet that started at the age of 12 with a B & E at Uncle Mo's Candy Shoppe, progressed to grand theft auto at 14, on to drugs at 18 with several DUIs and weapon charges. The only serious jail time he did was 7 years at the New Jersey State Prison for being a wheel man during an arm robbery at Trenton First National about 10 years ago. He went FTA 2 days ago on a new drug and weapon charge. There was a picture of him and seeing it gave me all the information I needed. His street name is Viper and has been for as long as I could remember. His youngest brother, Nick, was the only Fiorito that didn't turn to crime. He was some hot shot business man of some kind in, you guessed it, Chicago. You can leave the Burg but the Burg never leaves you, if family needs somewhere to lay low you take them in or find somewhere for them to hide out. Nick probably thinks Chicago is far enough and big enough for Viper not to be found. By the time I was finished pulling the information together it was 3 o'clock and Ranger was already at the airport. I called him, told him about Nick and emailed the file to him.

"Babe, that is just what I was looking for. No one knew about the brother. When I get back dinner is on me." And he was gone. There was a time when an invitation like that would have had the unspoken words of upstairs in my apartment but now I knew that it would be very public dinner somewhere.

Just minutes after hanging up with Ranger, Joe called.

"Hey!" I said.

"Hey Cupcake, I'm going to be late tonight. I just pulled a multiple homicide. Christ, that's nasty," he said to someone at the scene. "I'll be home as soon as I can."

"OK. Anything you need from me?"

"Yeah, can you make sure there is beer in the fridge? I'm going to need one, or maybe six, when I do get there."

"No problem." I paused. "Joe?"

"Yeah Cupcake?"

"I love you"

"I know. Thanks. I needed that." I could hear the smile in his voice as he hung up. Joe had a tough job and I knew it got to him. He appreciated the little things and if I could be the bright spot in a rotten day with a simple "I love you," by George I was going to give it to him.

As I was leaving the building that night I contemplated what to do for supper. I would need something that's good to reheat for when Joe got in.. I could go to my parents' and bring leftovers home, but that would undoubtedly result in the conversation my mother seemed to have every time I was with her these days. Joe was the kind of guy my mother once warned me about. Hell, Joe was the guy my mother warned me about. She knew about us playing Choo-Choo when I was six. Ever since then it was "Stephanie you need to stay away from Joey Morelli." Now it's "When are you and Joseph getting married?" It's not that I don't want to marry Joe. I just don't want to get married. Been there. Done that. No need to repeat that event in my life. Of course Joe is nothing like my horse's patoot of an ex, but still, I like our life the way it is. No need to rock the boat. , If I ever got pregnant, Joe would have me before a Justice of the Peace quicker than I could say "I do" and that'd be fine. It's just the way it would be. But I really didn't want to go through it with my mother tonight, so mooching dinner from my parents was out of the question.

I had to go to the store for the beer anyway, I could get the ingredients for meatloaf? I'm not a domestic goddess by any means, but I learned how to make a good meatloaf when Grandma Mazur stayed with me a while back. It always makes Joe smile when I do cook and meatloaf is great reheated, so I pulled into the Shop-Rite. Thirty minutes later I was home doing my impression of Susie the homemaker. While the meatloaf was baking I went upstairs and started searching the web for our vacation destination. I had not been able to get the thought of Joe and me on a sandy beach, somewhere, out of my mind today and planning it would be a great distraction for him tonight. I looked at Florida and ran thru the resorts in Daytona Beach, Ft Lauderdale, St Petersburg, South Beach, but nothing tickled my fancy.

Next stop Cozumel, there's an idea. I wasn't sure if Joe had ever been to that island on one of his diving trips or not. I've always wanted to go there, but WOW it'd be expensive. You can't drive there, so we would need to fly, adding two roundtrip tickets to the cost of a week at the resort I'd found. But it was perfect - with a pristine white beach leading to the beautiful aquas of the Caribbean, a scuba center and very private little patios. I hit the total button on the trip calculator and my eyes bugged out of my head for a moment. I didn't know what Joe was thinking as a budget, but I knew he would want to pay for it all. It was just one of those Caveman Italian Male traits that he can't get rid of. One of the benefits of working for Rangeman is the really nice paycheck I get at the end of every month. I only have my Macy's card and my car insurance to pay for and, while my insurance was through the roof, I could still help pay for the vacation.

Either Bob sensed that dinner was ready or something had scared him to death, because he went bounding down the stairs with 5 minutes left on the timer. Then I heard the door close and Joe greeting Bob, so I rushed downstairs myself to welcome him home after his grueling day of murder and mayhem.

"Hi!" I said as I landed on the bottom step. Joe was leaning on the kitchen counter with a beer already in his hand.

"You cooked," he smiled at me and took a pull from his beer. "My domestic goddess" he said before taking a second pull and finishing his beer.

Reaching him and getting us both a beer I replied, "You have perfect timing. It's almost ready."

"Thanks." He put the beer on the counter and pulled me to him for a kiss. The kiss was full of relief that his day was finally over, a lot of tongue, and the promise of what was yet to come. I was returning the promise when the timer on the stove went off, signaling the meatloaf was done.

Joe went into the living room and found the Mets game as I pulled the meat loaf out of the oven. He returned to the kitchen, filled his plate and grabbed his beer before settling down on the sofa with me. We ate in silence while watching the game and then cleaned up the kitchen together. He was scrubbing the loaf pan when I asked "So, about this vacation?"

Joe smiled down at me "Been thinking about it, have you?"

"Yeah I have. What kind of budget do I have to work with?"

"What are you thinking?"

"Cozumel?" I told him as I ran upstairs to get the information I had found. "I'll be happy to pay half. I know this is kind of expensive," I said on my way back down.

Joe took the printouts from me and looked them over. "This looks perfect, Stephanie. I can teach you to dive at the scuba center and show you some new moves I've been saving for a special occasion on the patio." A grin spread across his face and the tired, worry lines finally disappeared. Let's book it tonight. It's not necessary for you to pay anything, but if you want to that's fine. All I care about is you, me, a teeny bikini and the beach" he told me grabbing my hand and pulling me back upstairs to the computer in the office.