March 13th
Tom refilled his glass and looked at the bottle of scotch. Only one more glass left. "Guess I'll be going to the liquor store in the morning." Unless the following day was Sunday. It was the only day he bothered keeping track of any longer. Only then because he'd promised his father. He looked at his calendar, okay, it was going to be Wednesday.
His physical therapy session had been brutal. Not that they'd worked him too hard, it was more that he was horrified at how little it had taken to wear him out. They'd given him simple range of motion exercises to start with. Things to do while sitting watching television, leaving anything more strenuous to be done in the clinic until he got stronger. He was doing his best to behave. At least when it came to physical therapy and the Sunday phone calls.
The studio apartment he was living in was in a part of town he wouldn't have driven through without locking his doors. He had half-memories of a Halloween where he'd been investigating someone in this very neighborhood... while wearing a Zorro costume. He wasn't sure that wasn't a fever dream if the truth were told. He hated everything about the apartment. The location, the neighbors, the way the windows couldn't be locked. Well, they could but the right jiggling motion, and the window opened anyway.
His father was still trying to talk him into going back to Boston and starting over. Which he couldn't do until Alexander decided if he was pressing charges or not. Not that he wanted to go back to Boston with his tail tucked between his legs.
It had been months and IAB still hadn't decided what they were going to do. It was a waiting game. They were waiting for him to be desperate enough to make another mistake.
He downed the liquor in his glass in one go, then refilled it with the last in the bottle. Someone knocked on the door and he glared at it, willing them to go away. Since he'd been living there he'd had his car stolen(And returned), his windows broken and the woman down the block had wanted him to save her from the abusive son of a bitch she was living with. Then she'd punched him in the face for refusing to shoot him for her. Apparently, his reputation had preceded him. He didn't answer his door anymore if he could help it. No one he wanted to see was going to come knocking anyway.
The short solid rap came at the door again. A cop. Figures. Craig Alexander must have made up his mind. "Go away." He yelled at the door. They could work for it. He turned the volume up on the television and pretended to be watching it. Channel 5 was talking about another dead body. Palm Beach PD had better things to do than pound on his door.
He didn't look up as the door opened. "Unless you have a warrant that's breaking and entering. So turn around, go back to your precinct and come back when you have one." He continued to stare at the television.
"God Tom."
Cassie. With her best judgmental tone and those gorgeous judgmental eyes (That he hadn't looked at yet) and she probably had that adorable little judgmental set to her mouth too.
"I didn't invite you in." He said, changing the channels, He didn't want to hear about another dead woman. Not if he wasn't going to be able to investigate. "Go away."
She moved to stand in front of the television and turned it off. "Quite the place you have here"
"Don't like it you can leave." He said, god he wasn't drunk enough to deal with this. "In fact why don't you leave either way? I'm not in the mood, Cassandra."
She stepped around his coffee table and sat down on it. Leaning forward to look him in the eyes.
"Don't sit on my table. I hate it when you do that." He took a long drink of his liquor. "I mean it, Detective St John. Get out."
"Are you blaming me for this somehow?" She asked, she couldn't see any other reason he wouldn't be willing to talk to her. "Whatever this is?" she indicated their surroundings.
"This is what I can afford while on suspension. And no I don't blame you for this. I know who's to blame. I just don't want to talk to you. Get. Out. Of. My. Apartment."
"You don't mean that, Tom. You're drunk."
He looked her in the eyes then. "Weren't you the one that said people always tell the truth when they're drunk? Well, I'm drunk."
"Okay, I deserve that." She said. "No one has your new phone number so they sent me to check on you."
"Yes, they do." He said he'd informed everyone of the change of number when he'd gone to a less expensive cellular service. "If Internal affairs wants to talk to me they can do it themselves or have they decided to throw you at another screw-up cop? You're good at doing their job for them" She slapped him and he barely registered it. He took another drink.
"You're wallowing. Typical. I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything different." Okay that she didn't mean to say out loud. She really didn't. But he made her so angry that it had just popped out of her mouth.
" You know, I honestly think you're not happy unless you're making some sort of snide remark about how substandard I am. Do you know the difference between you and your mother Cassie? She doesn't pretend to be your friend while doing it."
"That I don't deserve." She said.
"If you wanted to stay friendly you should have come by when I was sober. I'm apparently a liar when I'm sober. Something you and IAB seem to agree about."
"They want to see you tomorrow." She said "9:30 in the morning. Try not to smell like a brewery when you go in."
"Distillery, Cassie. You brew beer, you distill scotch." He told her. "You've delivered your message, now go. Please. I've asked you several times." He wasn't going to ask her to believe him when he said he had truly loved her anymore. Why should he? It was plain as day that she didn't even like him. Should have been plain years ago.
" This isn't who you are, Tom." She said standing up.
"How could you possibly know who I am, when I'm not even sure anymore." He turned the tv back on and began to flip through the channels.
Cassy walked over to the nightstand and set his alarm clock for 7:00 am. She took one of his suits out of the closet and hung it on the closet door for him to find the following morning. She knew he'd be in no condition to take care of those things himself. Then she left, making sure the door was locked on her way out.
March 14th
Tom managed to make it into the police station by 9:15. He'd expected from the start that he'd go to prison for the shooting, even if it was a clean shoot, the situation surrounding it was so murky that even he questioned it sometimes. He didn't resent that. What he resented was two months of limbo where no one who had ever carried a badge wanted to talk to him. No one wanted to be connected to a dirty cop and anyone IAB was investigating was in the eyes of other cops, a dirty cop. Even when they were cleared.
He didn't bother stopping in to say hello to anyone. He didn't even risk the elevator. He didn't want to see the way people would look at him. Even he couldn't look himself in the face these days. So he took the stairs up and rapped on the office door.
"Come in."
Tom entered and paused briefly before closing the door behind him. Sean Galloway was seated behind the desk, Also in the room were DA Alexander, and Harry Lipschitz. Tom nodded to his former captain. Harry had tried to connect with him every so often. He knew Harry believed him. He just couldn't do anything about it.
"Have a seat, Detective," Alexander said.
"Is there a point?" He asked. After all, he was certain he was just going to have to stand up again to be handcuffed.
"There is," Harry said. "There are things to discuss, Tom."
He nodded and took a seat. "Alright." He said.
"Are you acquainted with a woman named Maura Palmeri?" Alexander asked.
"You know I am or you wouldn't be asking," Tom said. It was in the lawyer's playbook. Don't ask questions you don't already know the answer to.
"Would you say the two of you were close?" He asked.
"Yeah, we dated in high school. I took her to junior and senior prom. No, I don't know anything about her father other than he hated my guts." Antony Palmeri was fairly high up in the Boston crime syndicate. The one that no one liked to admit existed. Everyone knew what he was, they just couldn't prove it.
"Must not have hated them too badly, since you still have them," Harry said.
"I was dating his only daughter. You really think he liked me?" He said "I wasn't from a connected family, and I wasn't Italian. The only things I had going for me was the fact that I'm catholic and Maura liked me."
"Is that why your relationship ended?" Alexander asked.
"No. I came down here to play football for Florida State and she went to New York to study art history." He frowned "What is this all about?"
"It's come to our attention that she's now living in Palm Beach," Harry said.
"Great. Thanks for the info. I repeat, what is this all about?" He did not like the way this was going. He could see it coming a mile away and it made him angry.
"For someone with his career on the line you are full of attitude," Galloway said.
"We all know my career is over. The only thing that we're waiting for is Craig to decide if he's pressing charges."
"That is still being debated, Ryan." He said.
"Then what am I doing here? You didn't ask me up here to talk about some high school romance from a hundred years ago."
"We are willing to drop all charges if you do something for us in return., Galloway said.
" Drop what charges? No one has filed charges yet. But let me guess, you want me to go back to Boston and look up old Tony Palmeri for some federal friends of yours. The answer is no. I might not have much of a life left, but I'd like to not lose what little I have."
"No. We want you to reacquaint yourself with Miss Palmeri. " Alexander said.
"She doesn't know anything. She's never wanted to know anything. Why do you think she went to New York to go to college? To get away from her father's associates and his business dealings."
"He's been here to see here at least once a year."
"He's her father," Tom said as if speaking to idiots. "That doesn't mean she's involved in anything."
"You are looking at a manslaughter charge Detective," Alexander said.
"Then charge me." Tom said "You either believe I deserve to go to jail or you don't. So right here, right now, arrest me or drop the charges. I'm not going to be yanked around by that chain forever."
"There is no statute of limitations on any form of homicide and you know that," Alexander said.
"I guarantee you she's not guilty of anything mob-related. She hated the stuff her father did. She hated his friends."
"But she doesn't hate him," Alexander said.
"He's her father." He repeated. "Most people don't hate their parents no matter what they might think when they're angry." Tom said.
"Let me put it to you this way Detective," Galloway said "Either you do as we ask, go meet up with your old flame, renew things, find out what we need found out then get your badge and gun back and all forgiven as far as that shooting goes, Or, you go on trial, and with that tape, you left in Harry's office you will be convicted, and you'll spend 10 years minimum in a cage with men you put away. Meanwhile, someone else is tasked with investigating your girl, someone who is just as happy to put her in jail as the feds are her father."
"You're a son of a bitch, you know that," Tom said. " How long do I do this until you are convinced of her lack of involvement?"
"I'm not going to put an end date on it, Ryan. You know that's not how it works." Galloway said "Vittorio Rossi is in town. You need to find out what you can about him. There is no way he's here in town with his boss's daughter without there being contact between them.
"What makes you think I'm not going to change sides midstream?" Tom asked.
"Because at the end of the day you're a good cop," Alexander said.
"That's going to be part of the problem. If I show up out of the blue, and she finds out I'm a cop she'll walk away. She thinks I'm a dirty cop, she'll run away." Tom said, "Unless she's had a traumatic brain injury since I saw her last she's not going to fall for that."
"What do you suggest?"
"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm telling you this is a stupid plan. One that is going to accomplish nothing but get me killed when her father finds out. But I'll do it. " He said. God, he hated himself right then. Which was fine, once her father figured out he was trying to milk her for information he'd fly out from Boston to put a bullet between Tom's eyes himself.
"She has a regular itinerary," Alexander said and handed over a piece of paper. "If you get a move on you can make it to her favorite coffee shop in time to catch her."
"I couldn't afford this place when I had a regular paycheck," Tom said. "This place is frequented by the one percent of the one percent and charges accordingly." He shook his head "I have one condition, non-negotiable."
"You don't get to set conditions, detective," Galloway said and was surprised by the glare he got from the district attorney.
"What is it you want Tom?" Alexander asked.
"No one and I do mean no one is to tell Cassandra St John anything about this. She'll decide she likes me again and gets worried and get in my way. I'm not worried about what Maura will do, but you can believe her father is having her watched. They'll start looking into me once I make contact. So… keep Cassie out of it. "
"Alright, Tom. We'll keep her out of it." Harry said, sadly.
"We'll give you a week to get past it was great seeing you again. If you can't get past that the deal is off." Galloway said.
"If I move too fast I'm toast. She's the sort of woman you let make the first move."
"You're not teenagers anymore., Galloway said. "How hard can it be."
"You don't get out much, do you," Tom said. He couldn't help it. Something about this guy set his teeth on edge. If he was a murder suspect, Tom would put money on him being the killer. "If I'm going to get there before she moves on we need to wrap this up or I won't get another chance till tomorrow."
Tom got the feeling that Alexander was reluctant, even if he was on board. He just wasn't sure what part of it he wasn't fully on board with.
"You're right." The DA said. "Get going."
Harry walked with him. "For what it's worth, Tom, I think this is all bullshit."
"Thanks, Harry, It was good to see you again, but I hate this. She doesn't deserve it." He said and walked back to his car. He knew that he wouldn't be believed if he was in her favorite coffee shop. He probably didn't even meet the dress code. So he drove to the next stop on her agenda.
She went to yoga class every other day. The coffee shop on the lower level of the athletic club he could afford. What's more, they knew him there, so it wouldn't be out of place for him to be there.
He purchased a cup of coffee, a news paper and a piece of pound cake. He took his seat at a table near the main thoroughfare and opened the newspaper to the classifieds.
He knew this was a waste of time. The Maura Palmeri he knew would never have anything to do with the likes of Vittorio Rossi, but he wasn't going to let anyone else near her. It was bad enough that he was doing it.
"Tommy?" He heard her but didn't look up. Not yet. "Thomas Ryan?" Then he looked up and pasted a smile on his face as he rose from his seat. "Maura?" He met her halfway and hugged her. "What are you doing in Palm Beach? My god it's been what… 17 years?"
"I live here now." She said.
"Come sit down." He said, God, she was still beautiful. She almost took his breath away. "I want to know everything, Are you married?" He asked.
She laughed lightly. "No. I came close a couple of times. Never could find that right fit." She said "You?"
"Divorced. I didn't find that right fit either. One of those workplace romances that went too fast and it ended before the first anniversary."
"I'm sorry to hear that. How long ago?"
"Four years." He said. "We can't even manage to be friendly anymore. So what brings you down here? Last I heard you were in New York preparing to take the art world by storm."
"Well I graduated with a master's in Art history, and I met my second fiance, we came down here on vacation and I fell in love with it. We split up, and I decided that I loved it so much that I was going to move here. The dreaded trust fund came through about that time so I had time to sort out work and all of that."
"So what's your favorite thing about living here?" He asked
"It is almost 1500 miles from Boston and my father." She said and laughed.
"I can see where that might make things less stressful." He did not push for information about her father. Too soon.
"So how are your parents doing?" She asked.
"Dad's retired from the fire department. He's opened a restaurant now, believe it or not." He said with a smile, it almost reached his eyes. "Before he opened the restaurant he was driving Mom so crazy that they took separate vacations. She stayed in Boston and he came down here. He is not built for retirement."
"Look, this may be none of my business, but, you look miserable Tommy."
"Life is crazy right now. And if I get into it you're going to run for the hills and I could use a friend right now." That was God's truth. He needed a friend.
"We have too much history for me to run for the hills. Besides, there are no hills in Palm Beach." Not like they were used to back in Boston anyway.
He drew a deep breath "Challenge accepted." He said, "I am, was, I'm not really sure which anymore, a cop."
She raised an eyebrow. "You became a cop? I would have figured you for a fireman like your dad."
"Blew out my shoulder playing college football. I couldn't haul the equipment back when I was choosing a career. So I became a cop. Homicide detective to be specific."
"Now why would that make me run away?" She asked.
"Because I remember how they used to harass you and your Mom about your Dad back in the day."
"You know, I have been in Palm Beach for two years and you are the first police officer I have even met. So what is the story behind the 'am, was, not sure which anymore' preface to being a cop?"
He started at the beginning of the story. Falling in love, becoming engaged, all the way through the shooting and IAB putting him on indefinite suspension without pay, and the DA waffling over whether or not to press charges. "So here I am splurging on coffee and going through the help wanteds because I'm pretty sure I'm not getting my job back even if they don't put me in jail. Not what you expected I'm sure." He didn't have to fake being humiliated by it all. He truly was.
"I can't imagine dealing with all that and still being able to get out of bed in the morning." She said, resting her hand on his.
"Dad wants me to go back to Boston and move back into my old room until I sort this out. I think that would be worse than actually going to jail." He said "He has that tone when I talk to him. That 'I'm disappointed in you, Thomas' tone. Not that he says it, he says the opposite."
"Believe me I understand," She said. "Dad comes around, once in a rare blue moon. Usually, if I've been seeing the same guy for more than 6 months. I try to get out there for Christmas. Sometimes I can time it right where I get there on Christmas eve and I'm out by the 27th. I love my family but there is only so much I can take at a time."
"Family can be intense. I could tell you horror stories about my former mother-in-law that would curl your hair and make your stepmother sound like Mother Theresa." He said "But the less said about her the better. I hear creatures like that know when you're talking about them and show up to drag you to hell."
Maura laughed. "So what do you do to take your mind off of all this stress you're under?" She asked, Whatever it is, it's not working."
He shook his head "Nothing, and no I'm not going to start doing yoga." He teased indicating the rolled-up yoga mat she carried. "I'd wind up either flat on my face or twisted into a pretzel I am too old to get out of."
She laughed. "Alright, no yoga. Please come to dinner tonight. I'd like to get to know you again."
"I…" He was tempted to be the one to run for the hills or to confess to what he was being made to do. "I'd like that." He said and deflated a little. He hadn't thought he could hate himself more than he had when he'd gotten out of bed that morning. But just like that he'd proved himself wrong. "I really could use the distraction. Thank you."
She took a pen out of her purse and an old receipt. She wrote down her phone number and address, then handed it to Tom. "Dinner will be ready at about seven. So show up any time after six."
He looked at the paper. "Shall we say 6:30 then?"
"I'll see you then." She said and got to her feet. She kissed his cheek. "It is really good to see you again, Tommy."
"You too, Maura." He said. He watched her leave then noticed two men get up and leave the coffee shop too. He frowned and followed. He leaned against the exterior wall of the gym, watching, prepared to move in if he needed to.
Maura turned around suddenly and leveled a hard, cold glare at the men. "Go back to Boston and tell my father I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself."
"We can't do that, Miss Palmeri." One of them said. Tom decided he was tweedle dum. The other one was smart enough to keep his mouth shut so he was tweedle dee.
"Then figure out how to be less obvious so I can at least pretend you're not there." She said and got into her car.
He went home. He began to clean the place up. It was a dump, there was no doubt of that, but he was going to have to be on top of his game. That meant being sober and practically OCD about everything being in its place. He needed to know if something was a fraction of an inch off. Palmeri was having Maura watch dogged. Which meant he probably already knew that they had run into each other. His place would be watched and probably bugged within the next few days.
He still trusted Maura. She'd have to give him a reason not to. But he did not trust anyone else in her life. That trust might bite him on the ass like the last woman in his life had, but he couldn't let that turn him against every woman he knew. Especially not her. People could change but not that much.
He showered again, shaved, and dressed for dinner. If it wasn't for the crap reason he had run into her he'd be looking forward to it more. That didn't mean he wasn't looking forward to it. He was. It just meant he felt like a real bastard too.
He double-checked the address. "Flagler. Of course, she lives on Flagler." He had known her trust fund would be massive, but this was more than he'd expected. He thought he might have arrested one of her neighbors. Maybe two.
He pulled into her driveway at just before 6:30. He rang the doorbell and was let inside by the maid. "Hi, I'm Tom Ryan, I'm expected." He said.
"This way." She said. "Miss Palmeri is in the kitchen."
He followed her through to a kitchen that he could fit his entire apartment into.
"Tom, Hi., Maura said smiling.
"Hi." He said, "That smells incredible."
"My grandmother's Ossobuco Milanese recipe." She said.
"No wonder my mouth is watering." He said with a grin. "Your grandmother was an amazing cook. I'm surprised you got the cookbook out of Boston and lived to tell the tale."
She laughed "She actually willed it to me. My brothers think they're too good to cook and she refused to live it to Uncle Sal even if he does own three restaurants." She checked on the polenta as it cooked on the stove. "Would you like a glass of wine?" She asked.
"Please. I can open it if you like."
She told him where to find everything, and Tom opened the wine and poured it into the decanter to breathe.
The conversation came easy. It always had in the past, but it surprised Tom a little that it still did. As kids growing up together, going to the same catholic school they had a lot in common. Now there was only the past. But from the moment they took the first sip of wine to the moment they took the last bite of food the conversation was easy and light.
They took their second bottle of wine into the living room where she had set out photo albums from their teens.
"So where are the watchdogs?" He asked as they settled onto the sofa. "I saw them earlier at the gym.
"Oh, you mean Dad's spies?" She asked. "I don't let them on the property. Not that it stops them from making regular reports on my activities. They're probably off making a call to Boston now about you being here."
Tom laughed "That's gonna go over well." He shook his head.
"Which means about as much to me now as it did when we were dating." She said. " He's my dad and I love him but I'm a grown woman and I make my own decisions."
"You were making your own decisions when you were 12." He said. He took a drink from his wine glass and set it on the table.
"And you never once complained. It was one of the reasons I said yes when you asked me out."
"Only one of?" He asked.
"Well, I liked your sense of humor, and how you laugh. The way you looked at me when you thought I wasn't looking… the fact that you're absolutely gorgeous didn't hurt either."
"And now I'm blushing," Tom said, laughing a little.
"I liked that too." She said, and for a moment he thought she was going to kiss him.
It was just past midnight when he began to make his excuses. "I'm glad I ran into you today." He said.
"I am too." She said. "I'd like to see more of you. If that's not too forward."
"It's not too forward. I'd like that too, but I'm not sure what's going to be happening in the future. I could wind up in jail. In fact about the only guarantee, I can make about the future is I'm not going back to Boston any time soon." I'm a bastard, he thought, a real bastard.
"Well, you aren't in jail yet. Don't live your life as if you are."
"I need to think about things. It's not you. If life was back to normal you'd have to beat me off with a stick. Believe me. But it's not and while this is hanging over my head I'm scared to think too far ahead." He wanted more than anything to see her again. He'd felt at peace for the first time in a long time and he craved that like a man in the desert craved water.
"So don't." She said "You can't do anything about what internal affairs does, spinning it around in your head every day is going to kill you. If you want to go out, or even just need someone to talk to, you have my number. I'll understand if you don't, but I hope you do."
"Alright." He said.
She walked him to the door and stepped out onto the porch with him. "Good night."
Tom leaned in and kissed her gently. "Good night, Maura."
He got in his car and drove. Why couldn't he have met her again earlier instead of Virginia? He shook his head that sort of thinking didn't pay off. He'd have just wound up with IAB yanking his chain sooner. This was doomed. It was always going to be doomed. When it was over she was going to hate him and he wasn't going to blame her. Her father would kill him. He wasn't sure he would blame him for that either.
