Calamity Jena (Invertary Book 4) (3 page)

They all groaned.

“We keep telling you,” Mitch said, “this isn't a club. It's food.”

“It could be a club. I got us matching T-shirts. If we all wear the shirts it will feel more like a club.”

“You can wear your T-shirt if you want. We can't stop you. But we aren't a club.”

“We could be.” Josh stroked his hand down the front of his vintage
Breakfast Club
T-shirt. “This is a great shirt. It was a great movie. Iconic.”

The men ignored him.

“There they are.” Matt pointed to the Americans coming through the door that led to the upstairs hotel.

Before he could get up and approach the men, Mr Suit spotted the group. He grinned widely and headed straight for them.

Frank Di Marco stopped in front of their booth, flanked by his bodyguards. “If it isn’t Atlantic City’s favourite crooner. How you doing, Josh?”

“Good, Frank, good.” Josh and Mitch both stood to shake hands with Frank.

“It’s been what?” Frank spread his hands. “Twenty years? You were just a kid, working the clubs.”

“If I remember rightly”—Mitch sat back down with a grin—“you were working the clubs too.”

Frank laughed. “True. Too true.” He shrugged. “Talents lie in different areas, eh, boys? You did what you were good at and I did what I was good at. Such is life. And here we are, in our prime, men of influence.”

“I don’t know about that,” Josh mumbled.

“Did you move up in the world, Frank?” Mitch arched an eyebrow at the man.

Frank shrugged. Matt assumed it was supposed to look humble. It just looked fake.

“Got myself a club. Remember Legs? Acquired it a year ago. I’m turning it around. Also got myself a partner. You mighta heard of him.” He paused for effect. “Vince Rizzoni.”

Mitch let out a low whistle. “I hope you know what you’re doing, man.”

“I told you when we were kids,” Frank said, “we were destined for greatness. Now look at you two—Josh here is setting underwear on fire all over the globe and you’re watching his back, making sure that talent of his earns the money and respect it deserves. Now I have someone watching my back too. It’s taken a lot of work, but now I have the capital and the backing I need to implement my plans. Legs is just the beginning. I’m aiming for world domination, boys.”

Matt watched as Joe, the guy wearing the goon T-shirt, turned a laugh into a cough.

“Tell me, officer,” Frank said. “Did you manage to get Jena out of the church? We have a lot of catching up to do.”

Matt studied the guy before speaking. “No. She’s still in there. She doesn’t want to talk to you. Or see you. She’s wondering why you’re calling her your fiancée. I’m kind of wondering the same thing.”

Frank chuckled, like the whole conversation was deeply amusing. “What can I tell you? We lived together for four years. She’s been here a while; you know what she’s like. Kooky. Isn’t that right, Grunt?”

Grunt grunted. Helpful guy.

Matt felt his jaw clench. “She’s worried you might be here for payback.”

Another fake laugh. Matt was getting seriously sick of Frank’s we’re-all-guys-together routine.

“Now why would she think that?”

“Maybe because she cleared out your house, sold everything that wasn’t nailed down and when she was done there found a buyer for your car.”

Frank wasn’t smiling now. Matt stood. Pleased to see he had a couple of inches on the guy. “A 1966 Chevelle, wasn’t it? Perfectly restored, I hear.”

Josh let out a low whistle.

“Ouch,” Mitch said with a wince.

Frank’s fists clenched. “A misunderstanding. That’s all, officer. This is a domestic issue. Nothing for you to concern yourself with.” He tugged at his cuffs, flashing gold cufflinks that would have cost Matt more than a month’s salary. “I’m here to take Jena home. She belongs to me.”

“Don’t you mean
with
you?”

Frank shrugged. “Tomato, tomahto—isn’t that how the song goes? Jena and me, we got history. She’s the girl for me and I’m taking her home. Where she belongs.”

“I think it’s best if you leave Jena alone. You two have nothing to talk about. Your relationship is over. The fact she moved country without telling you should have clued you in.” Matt took a step towards Frank, invading his space. “There’s nothing for you here. I suggest, strongly, that you go home.”

Frank’s eyes hardened. “It’s a free world. No law against me visiting with my woman. No law against me persuading her to come home with me. No law against seeing the sights while we’re here. Last time I checked, this town welcomed tourists.” His smile was cold. “I’ll be seeing you around, officer.”

Matt clenched his teeth as he watched him go. Apart from warning him off, there was nothing he could do. Once the door closed on the men, he sat back down and glared at Mitch and Josh.

“Talk,” he ordered.

A plate loaded with a cooked breakfast appeared in front of him. The smell of sausages, black pudding, baked beans and potato scones made Matt’s mouth water. There were even locally grown mushrooms and home-baked soda bread. It was heart attack heaven. Dougal, the pub owner and the town’s unofficial mayor, clasped his shoulder. “Thought you could use that, son.”

Matt half expected the man to hang around and insinuate himself into the conversation, but he left as quickly as he’d arrived. Matt suspected it was the murderous look he knew was in his eyes that deterred Dougal.

Josh and Mitch shared a look. Matt read it loud and clear: trepidation.

“Looks like Frank got what he wanted,” Josh said.

Mitch rubbed his chin. “No kidding, if he’s in bed with Rizzoni, he’s on his way to being a made man.”

Matt held up his hand. “Explain. From the beginning.”

Mitch sighed. “We were teenagers when we knew Frank Di Marco. He was a hustler back then. A guy trying to make a buck and a name for himself. He talked big, but was harmless. He was decent enough, funny, entertaining. He had a code. You could trust him.”

“That doesn’t sound like the guy we just had a chat with,” Matt said.

“No.” Mitch glanced towards the door Frank had disappeared through. “He’s changed. He’s managed to get into bed with the big boys.” He looked back at Matt. “Vince Rizzoni is well connected; he’s high up in the Rizzoni family. We’re talking Jersey mob. I don’t know where Vince sits in the structure of things; we’re out of touch. But he’s definitely mob.”

Matt felt a throbbing start in his temple. “What’s this club he’s talking about?”

“Legs? It’s a strip club. Used to be
the
strip club. Sounds like Frank’s got plans to take it to the top again.”

Matt relaxed slightly and forked some baked beans into his mouth. It took a lot more stress than this current fiasco to ruin his appetite. “So, he’s not mob, only connected to the mob. American mob, which is far, far away.” He looked at Mitch. “I don’t have to worry about him, then?”

Mitch was grim. He shook his head. “No, it means you have to worry more. Sounds like he’s trying to impress the Rizzonis to get in deep with them. It doesn’t look good if his woman ran out on him.”

“Especially if she cleaned him out beforehand,” Josh added.

Mitch nodded. “Something like that will make a man lose face. Trust me. If you want to impress the mob, you sort that crap out pretty damn quick. I saw this a lot when I was studying law. Mob guys up on charges over something that started out as a loss of respect and ended with violence, and bodies with cement shoes.”

Everything within Matt stilled. “Is Jena in danger?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Mitch said. “With the Frank I used to know I’d say no, but that Frank didn’t make deals with the mob. I don’t know what this Frank is capable of.”

Matt didn’t like that answer one bit.

“I wouldn’t trust him,” Josh said. “His image has taken a hit. For a guy like that, image is everything. A good image promotes respect. I would guess that’s why he hooked Jena—she’s gorgeous. That kind of woman gives a man status. It’s also probably why he’s pissed about his car as well. A pristine Chevelle is nothing to sneeze at. They sell for what? A hundred grand?” He looked at Mitch
,
who nodded.

“They can go for that much, but around about the fifty-k mark is more common.”

Matt buttered his toast. “Why the hell would Jena hook up with a guy like that?” He wasn’t sure why any woman would date Frank.

Josh shrugged. “Money? Lifestyle?”

No. No way. Matt shook his head. “Does she strike you as the gold-digging type? She’s out there fixing a house that’s beyond repair. Doing it all by herself. If she was into money and lifestyle, she’d have hit on a wealthy single guy or cosied up to someone willing to do the work for her.”

“You’re forgetting about the dates—she’s had a lot of them since coming to town.” Josh pointed his fork at Matt. “Men are falling over themselves to get at her. Maybe she’s looking for a sugar daddy.”

Lake laughed. He’d been so quiet that Matt almost forgot he was there. “If she was looking for a sugar daddy she wouldn’t have gone out with half those guys. She went fishing with George the mailman last week. He isn’t exactly rolling in it.”

Matt sighed heavily. “I don’t like this.” He went to eat his black pudding, and his plate was empty. What the hell? Did he eat it without noticing? He looked up and found Josh trying to appear innocent.

“I’m telling Caroline,” Matt told him. “Didn’t she put you on a diet? I remember her lecture on how you need to be fit for your new tour. She won’t be pleased you’re eating a fat-filled Scottish breakfast. And she definitely won’t be impressed that yours wasn’t enough for you and you had to steal mine.”

“Have a heart, man. That’s plain evil.” Josh paled, and the men laughed.

Matt pulled out his phone and dialled his computer genius cousin, Harry. “Can you run a background check for me?”

“Sure thing. Let me get a pen. Who’s the lucky victim whose privacy gets invaded this time?”

“Three guys, new in town. Joe something. Grunt, that’s a nickname, I don’t have a real name for him. And Frank Di Marco.”

There was a pause. “Tell me you mean ‘something’ is Joe’s last name, otherwise this is a needle in a haystack scenario. I mean, seriously, Joe? It’s right up there with John Smith. And you want me to run a search on somebody called Grunt? Are you running a fever? Do I need to call your mum and get her to check on you?”

“I thought you were the genius? You have computer superpowers. Nothing is too hard for you. Isn’t that what you keep telling me? That you’re king of the cyber world?”

Josh and Mitch laughed, while Lake’s top lip twitched.

“You’re an annoying pain in my backside, you know that, right?” Harry said in resignation. “Do you know anything else? Or is this all I’m getting?”

“They all come from Atlantic City. They have mob connections. And Frank was Jena Morgan’s boyfriend. Emphasis on was. He owns a club called Legs.”

Harry let out a heavy sigh. “You owe me for this.”

“I’ll offer my services to check under your bed for rats. I know you still have nightmares about them. Don’t worry. Your big cousin will protect you and we’ll call it even.” Matt grinned as he hung up on Harry’s blustering threats. He sobered as he turned to Lake. “I know your security business is busy right now, but we need to keep an eye on Jena. Can you spare anyone?” He winced. “There’s no money in it.”

“I’ll cover the costs,” Mitch and Josh said at the same time. They laughed and high-fived each other.

Josh saw Matt’s querying look. “Caroline would kill me if I didn’t help out.”

“Damsel in distress,” Mitch said by way of an explanation.

Matt looked at Lake. “So we’re good?”

Lake nodded. “We’ll work out a rota. I’ve got a couple of guys I can spare until we know what’s going on, but they won’t be free before the weekend. You okay to pitch in?”

“Aye,” Matt said. “I probably should, seeing as this is my idea.”

Lake’s lip twitched in an approximation of a smile, and he cocked an eyebrow at Matt. “Still planning on leaving town for a more exciting job in the city?”

Matt made his thoughts on that comment clear with a gesture.

The men laughed and Mitch signalled for more coffee.

Jena was bored. For some reason she thought claiming sanctuary would be more exciting than the reality. Since she was no longer sitting in the main restroom area, but locked in one of the toilet cubicles, the Weight Watchers group were able to use the toilets. For a while she was kept busy answering questions as to why she’d moved into the ladies’ loo, then the meeting started and she was alone again. Alone and hungry. Yet the thought of snacking while sitting in a toilet cubicle was less than appealing.

“Aunty Jena? Are you doing a poopy?”

Jena grinned widely at the sound of her young neighbour. “No, honey.”

“Good, they’re stinky and I don’t want to come in if it’s stinky.”

The next thing Jena knew, a blonde head appeared under the door and a little body shimmied in. The four-year-old was dressed head to toe in pink, with a headband that looked like Minnie Mouse ears. Without blinking, she climbed up on Jena’s lap and kissed her cheek. Jena’s heart melted, as it usually did any time she was around Katy.