I shrugged. “He was difficult to resist.”
My friend blinked at me then tossed his head back to laugh, the sharp yips like a hyaena but oddly charming. “Oh, Elena, you are an enigma.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I decided, when before I might have thought he meant it as an insult.
“You should, absolutely. Now, I’m curious. Why did you call me?”
“Dennis O’Malley is corrupt. I caught him meeting with the Irish mob a few weeks ago and when we tried to get him to recuse himself, he laughed in our faces. He’s got Judge Hartford in his pocket and he’s determined to use Dante’s case a springboard to State Senator.” I took a sip of the thick, bitter espresso in front of me, rallying my confidence to ask what I needed to ask. When I looked up at Ric again, my eyes were wide with intensity. “I called because I want to ask for your help. I want you to dig up whatever you can find on him.”
He frowned. “The firm already did a background check.”
I gave him a pointed look. “Not through you and not deep enough. I’m asking you to go above and beyond here, Ric. As a friend.”
His mouth dropped open slightly and I knew he was shocked I would ask him to do something unethical. The old Elena was as morally sound as they came, but I’d left her behind somewhere between Staten Island and Napoli.
He was quiet for a long time, studying me, peeling back my skin and bones to read what was written in my blood. I thought he would say no. In fact, I opened my mouth to tell him to forget it when he leaned back in his chair, affecting a casual pose with his legs crossed and fingers steepled.
“Okay.”
I blinked. “Sorry, what?”
His lips twitched. “Okay, this is no big thing. Of course, I will look into him for you.”
“No big thing?” I echoed, a little foolishly.
“Do you remember representing my cousin when he was busted for possession last year?” he reminded me.
I nodded, but I didn’t think that had any bearing. I was just doing my job and helping out a friend. He hadn’t asked me to do anything illegal or unethical like I was asking for now.
“And do you remember when my sister assaulted the woman who slept with her husband?”
Another nod. That one was hard to forget, Carmen Stavos was a firecracker.
“And do you know, we have worked together for years and you are the only associate who never made me feel like their servant?”
Ah, well that I could believe. Most of them were pricks only focused on their own upward mobility.
“So,” Ric concluded. “This is no big thing. We are friends, Elena, I would do this for you even if you had not done so much for me. I’ll look into Hartford too and let you know what I can find.”
I blinked owlishly, because it occurred to me that I hadn’t really known if Ric and I were friends. We got along and I enjoyed working with him, but I always assumed he just thought of me as some vaguely pleasant associate.
It said a lot about my mental state before Dante that I discounted a friendship because I automatically assumed they didn’t want to be friends with someone like me.
It made me grieve for the woman I’d been and rejoice for the progress I’d made in the last few months.
“Thanks, Ric,” I said, letting some of that tenderness seep into my tone. “That means a lot.”
“Hey, don’t forget, you’re a powerful lady now. Maybe you’ll be able to do a big favor for me some day,” he teased.
“Well, while we’re on the topic of favors, there is something else,” I confessed. “Have you heard of the di Carlo brothers in the Cosa Nostra?”
He snorted. “Anyone in law, police work, or the media knows the di Carlo brothers.”
“They’ve gone to war against the Camorra.”
“Ah.” He rubbed his chin as he pondered the situation. “Because they think Dante killed Giuseppe di Carlo?”
The coffee shop was on a quiet street and it was too cold to be sitting outside really, so Ric and I were the only ones sitting bundled up on the chairs in front of the shop, but I still lowered my voice. “They know he didn’t. Apparently, the brothers were the ones to order the drive-by to take out their own uncle and get power for themselves.”
Ric let out a long, low whistle. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you the world you just married into is violent as hell.”
“You do not.” I could still remember Rocco Abruzzi’s brain blown out all over the back wall of his office like it happened two minutes ago. I knew I would live with that memory for the rest of my life.