‘A little here and there’s okay. A perk of the job. At least my dad viewed it that way.’ Paul leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers together on the flat of his silk shirt. ‘What I don’t like is the idea of Frank taking advantage of my dad being stuck at death’s door and helping himself because it’s easier.’
‘Frank’s not a thief.’
‘I spent the evening checking the books against the receipts, and Frank’s had his hand, no, Eve, his fucking arm, deep in the till.’ He’d gone from easygoing calm to screaming, his face red, spit flying from his lips.
This was why Paul didn’t give a crap what Bucks had done to her. Her heart filled her throat, her mouth.
‘You want me to talk to Frank for you?’ She prayed he’d say yes, let her handle it, get the money back, not send the muscle pounding down on Frank. ‘You know Frank, he doesn’t know numbers, he probably entered a few figures wrong in a spreadsheet. He’s not the brightest star in the sky.’
Paul dragged his sleeve across his lips. ‘Yeah. You talk to Frank. Because I don’t want to smash Frank’s face in. He brings in the celebs. Without Frank’s touch we’re just another high-end titty bar. The staying power of minor celebrity never fails to amaze.’ He smiled, a cold one like his father used. ‘If he’s having money problems, he should let me know; I’ll take care of him.’ Paul’s voice was now gentle, steady. It scared Eve.
‘Of course, Paul. There’s a reasonable explanation…’
‘I have to be able to trust him, Eve. If I can’t trust him… if I can’t trust you…’ He let the words fade into the quiet. ‘Then I have to take corrective measures, regardless of my affection for you or Frank.’
Corrective measures. Tommy’s old code words for a hit. Dizziness spun through her head at the idea of Paul ordering her and Frank killed. She thought of Ricky Marino, his body thrashed into shreds by a chain. She didn’t know for sure that Paul had done it. But people had whispered: Yeah he sure had, whooping and screaming and making a tantrum into a gut-wrenching kill that ended up discrediting his father and destroying their organization in Detroit.
‘I’ll make good on anything Frank’s done,’ she said in a rush. ‘And if I pay it back and you’re still mad at him, then let us go back to Detroit.’
‘Wow.’ Paul gave a soft laugh. ‘I haven’t even shown you proof of Frank’s skimming. You sure seem ready to believe he’d do it.’
After a moment she said, ‘Well, you wouldn’t accuse him without good reason.’
‘Finally you show faith in me,’ he said.
‘Of course I have faith in you, honey. Always.’
‘You want to see the proof?’
‘Yes.’
He handed her a CD. ‘Destroy it when you’re done,’ he said. ‘One file shows the charges actually made on client cards. The other shows the nightly revenues. There’s a big shortfall.’
‘I’ll check it carefully. If it’s him you’ll get your money back and an apology. And he’ll work for free, no salary, for six months. He’ll show you respect, Paul, I promise.’
‘Frank’s stealing from me, from my dying father, and you, you want to lecture me on how Bucks behaves and what deals I enter into.’
‘I’m not lecturing you,’ she said. ‘God forbid. So who found out Frank was skimming?’
‘Doesn’t matter.’
He got up from behind Frank’s desk and she stayed still as he walked behind her chair. After a moment he put his hands, thick-fingered, on her shoulders. ‘I know you returned money to my dad years ago A big load of cash he otherwise would have lost. So I’m giving you fair warning. You clean Frank’s nose. You get the money back he stole. And you and Frank keep breathing. Understand?’
‘Yes,’ she said. The pressure from his hands tightened on her shoulders, her collarbone. His thumbs rubbed the sides of her neck, tickled them slightly. Avoiding the bruise Bucks had left.
‘I forgive once, Eve. Not twice.’
‘Thank you, Paul,’ she said. ‘I’ll fix it. How much does he owe you?’
‘About ninety thousand,’ he said. The pressure on her throat increased.
She said nothing. It could be worse. She could call Detroit, talk to a couple of old friends, get a loan. Frank, the idiot, what had possessed him? ‘I’ll fix it,’ she said again. ‘Please, let me talk to him first? I’ll straighten this out.’
Paul Bellini eased the pressure of his hands, slowly turned the chair so she faced him. Leaned down close to her. ‘Frank steals from me or my father again, I’m gonna take him to a doctor I own in Arizona. I’ll have his tongue removed. No anesthetic. Then his mouth surgically sewn shut. I’ll let him starve like that for weeks and then I’ll take a chain to him and put him out of his misery.’
‘I understand,’ she said. She fought down a wave of nausea.
He leaned back. ‘Now. You and Bucks go get that money for me. I’ll see you when you get back, all right?’
Eve stood, fought to keep from trembling. ‘All right.’
‘Drive careful,’ Paul said. ‘That traffic’s a bitch.’
7
Eve sat at Frank’s desk, peering at the computer screen. Frank still hadn’t returned from lunch, which he considered a marathon event, and he’d forgotten his cell phone on his desk. She was reviewing the files on the CD Paul had given her and gritting her teeth. The discrepancies between large credit charges and the books had started small but widened in the past two weeks. In one case, a private party of ten in a suite had incurred charges of nearly ten thousand dollars. Only five appeared on the spreadsheet for the same charge, the other money diverted and never making it into the Bellini pockets. A little, yes. A perk. This much was unforgivable.
The slow crooked twist of a headache sprouted in her temples and she craved a hot bath, a cold glass of wine, and silence.
Her cell phone beeped and she clicked it on, hoping it was Frank.
‘Eve? It’s Bucks. I’ll meet you at the exchange,’ Bucks said. ‘I’m running a little late on other business for Paul. Sorry.’ The barest hint of conciliation in his tone.
‘He wanted us to go there together,’ she said.
‘Sorry, can’t. I’ll meet you there.’ He took a breath. ‘Hey, Eve. About last night. I apologize. I was out of line. Too much wine. I was kidding around with you, okay?’
‘It’s forgotten, honey,’ she said, trying to sound relaxed.
‘Eve, I do respect you. The great work you’ve done for Tommy all these years.’
She didn’t believe him, not for a moment. But she needed him on her side now, with Paul furious, and said, ‘It’s okay. We need to work together well, for Paul’s sake. Let’s have a drink after the errand today.’
‘Drown the hatchet,’ he said with a little laugh. ‘But not at the club. I’ll take you to a classy place with a really stellar wine list. I’m sure you’re tired of looking at tits in strobe lights.’
‘That sounds good.’
‘I’ll see you shortly,’ Bucks said, and hung up.
Odd. She would have thought that Bucks would have ridden with her, been her shadow in getting the money. Especially if he knew about Paul’s accusation against Frank. But fine, whatever. She closed the accounting files and headed down into the nearly deserted club. A few men still sat at tables, watching a dancer. An air of failure hovered about them, guys alone in the afternoon who didn’t have desks to return to, and she wondered if most of them were salesmen having off days, blowing commissions they hadn’t earned.
She walked out into the bright, hard Houston winter light, headed for her Mercedes.
Frank. That idiot. She wondered why he’d skimmed. He didn’t do drugs beyond a rare and purely social toot of coke. He had no gambling problem. Their finances were fine, not grand, but then they didn’t need much. Tommy provided fairly. Paul seemed far less inclined to share the wealth. Ninety thousand. It was a long slow bleed that she couldn’t afford. She was in her late fifties now; she couldn’t launder and courier money forever.
She had already taken a few precautions over the years, in case she needed to run. Credit cards under an assumed name, cash hidden in secret deposit boxes. She could drive right now to Houston Intercontinental, get on a plane. To Detroit. Or where no one knew her, find the Montana of the next stage of her life, begin again.