“Hello, District Attorney Flowers,” I say with a smooth grin.
She glares. “This is the women’s room, Casso. What the fuck are you doing? I guess I shouldn’t ask, since obviously you’d stoop to following me into the toilet. That’s the sort of man you are.”
She’s goading me, clever girl. I don’t rise to it.
“So we’re dropping pretense, that’s fucking nice. Gets real old being all stuffy with you, Joyce, when I know you’re a cold-hearted killer deep inside.”
She rolls her eyes and steps up next to me to wash her hands. She pumps soap and scrubs. “Make it fast.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“It’s an election year. You think I want to be associated with the Bruno Famiglia right now? I’d rather cut off a hand. I’d have a better chance at winning.”
“Come on, these old windbags love me.”
“But the young ones don’t. Your father made enemies, and he left them for you, but you’ve been too busy doing your crime thing to notice.” Joyce finishes and I hand her a wad of paper towels. “Thank you.” She dries her hands.
“I need to call in a favor.”
“Shitty time for that.” She throws the paper towels into the trash and faces me.
“I’ve been good to you, Joyce. Now I need you to reciprocate. Don’t make me resort to threats.”
Joyce’s eyes slip to Olivia. “And who’s this?”
“My wife, Olivia Cuevas. Yes, that Cuevas family.”
Joyce sighs and nods. “Nice to meet you.”
“You as well.” Olivia’s perfectly polite.
“Who got picked up?” Joyce asks, looking supremely exhausted and wary. “I might be able to help but there’s no promises.”
“Mickey Stazek. I need something from him, and he says he’s got a case.”
Joyce barks a laugh, shaking her head like it’s the worst joke she’s heard all day. “You’re kidding me. Since when did you work with the Polish outfit?”
“Since now. Can you do it?”
“No way,” she says, crossing her arms, trying to look tough. “Mickey’s got a murder case against him, didn’t you know? A murder case with a good witness. He’s going down and I’m getting the credit. Sorry, Casso, but you’ll have to ask for something doable.”
I grind my teeth together. Fucking Mickey didn’t mention his charge was murder, I wouldn’t have tried to use my political connections to help a damn murderer. Not that I mind the killing bit, more that getting caught is a real problem, and I don’t feel like getting tangled with that mess.
“Lower the charge then. Give him, I don’t know, involuntary manslaughter, something like that.”
Joyce shakes her head. “Witness saw him execute a guy. Shot him right in the skull, no hesitation. There’s too much evidence here. Not going to happen.”
“There has to be something. A campaign donation, a crook you want prosecuted that I don’t care about. You want another big case? I can give you one.”
“Not happening, Casso. I’ve got this one all lined up and ready to go. Maybe if there weren’t an election, but I’m half DA and half politician. Now, please, when we’re out of here, act like we don’t know each other.”
“Seems like we don’t,” I say softly, glaring at my useless DA friend.
“For now, until I win reelection, you’re right.” She softens a bit. “Try me again after the votes are tallied, okay? I want to work together. Just not on this.” She turns and leaves and the door swings shut.
“Shit.” I pace back and forth. “Mickey’s going to play hardball now.”
“What will you do?”
“Come up with something?” I stop walking and look at her. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“Yeah? Where should we go?”
“Back home. I have a good bottle of wine I want you to drink.”
She smiles a bit, almost shy. “You’re trying to get me drunk.”
“I’m trying to spend a few hours looking at you in that dress. Or would you rather stay here and see if we can count how many pairs of dentures there are in that room?”
She laughs and takes my arm. “Lead the way.”
We step from the bathroom together. Clair Slotter and Flammetta Parareda are arguing with Nico, and both spot me and Olivia leave the women’s room arm in arm. The old ladies look utterly scandalized, and I give them a wink and a blown kiss as we pass. Let them gossip. It’ll only help my cause. Rich people love a good scandal.
“Rotten boy,” Clair Blaya hisses like a wrinkled albino snake.
Nico howls with laughter as we exit the premises.
Chapter 16
Olivia
I’m buzzing on the high of a successful heist. Well, a somewhat successful heist. I’m still new to this crime thing. Getting Casso time with Joyce alone in the bathroom was a stroke of genius, and it helped that Nico got involved and played goalie.
“To teamwork,” Casso says once we’re back in our private living room. I toast him and sip the heavenly red: light and fruity and slightly tart. Delicious.